“Super rich kids,” he slurs, “with nothing but loose ends. Isn't that right?” He looks at you with a drunken grin.

You look at him like he has three heads. He likes being a Soc, doesn't he? A ‘super rich kid’, silver spoon, part of the jet-set. He has to. He's the exact mold of a Social. Rich, cocky, a pretty and rich girl on his arm, drinking and jumping greasērs. How could he not like it?

But, then again.. ‘Nothing but loose ends’. That is right. Bob's parents never tell him ‘no’ no matter what he does. They're downright neglectful. A lot of Socs' parents are like that, now that you think about it. And now that you think about it, you don't like being a Soc either. It's more hell than it is heaven.

You're closed off all the time, cool to the point of not feeling anything. Maybe that's a loose end, one shared by most Socials. Super rich kids.. Too many joyrides in daddy's Jaguar, too many white lies and white lines, too many bottles of wine you can't pronounce.

Dammit, he's right.