Mathieu sat up in his bed, running his hands over the soft, plush blanket that was draped over his legs. A yawn rose in his throat, and his eyes shut tight as the last bit of sleepiness left his body. He was used to waking up early, when the sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon. He flipped the blankets off of his body and got to his feet, walking over to his closet. He pulled open his white dresser, fingering the pristine fabrics inside until he chose his preferred outfit, removing his pajamas and quickly dressing in his day clothes. The boy walked over to his bathroom, which was tucked in the corner of his large bedroom. A clock on the wall reminded him that he only had an hour left father would come and studies would begin, so he swiftly combed his clean blonde hair and brushed his teeth. He looked acceptable. 

Walking out of his bathroom, Mathieu headed downstairs and shut the door behind him. He could already smell food- his mother cooked for him every morning. His mother was nice enough, and she was very pretty. She had long blonde hair and deep blue eyes, with a slim figure and large chest. She would be a good model, but her body wasn't very authentic. He silently sat down at the kitchen table and watched as a small meal was laid out for him. As soon as he sat down, he mother walked over to him, kissed the side of his head as a sort of "good morning" before heading outside. She spent most of her time out there, when she wasn't working. All she did was lay on her hammock and tan. It made him a bit jealous, really. 

He finished his food in about ten minutes, getting up and putting the dishes into the sink once he was done. His father chose this time to walk into the kitchen, standing near the entrance with a stern look on his wrinkled face. Claude had slightly darker skin than his mother, with slim eyes and a forever frown on his lips. He looked like a James Bond villain. 

"I assume Diane has fed you already?" His father asked, folding his hands behind his back. Mathieu sighed. His dad was so proper all the time. Who acted like that nowadays? He felt like he was the only one who had to deal with this. But complaints aside, he still stood a bit straighter an nodded, looking up at the tall man. "Yes, she did."

"Good, then classes will start. Westley will be here any minute. Go to the study." He instructed, turning and walking to the front door, where he slipped on his shoes and headed out. Mathieu followed his instructions and sighed as he trudged up the stairs towards the library. This was the start of a long day. First, he was tutored in math for an hour and a half. A twenty minute break, and another tutor arrived, to teach him history for the same amount of time. So on and so forth, through English, French, science, and business. All the subjects he was expected to master. It was almost like normal school, except he had no friends, no fun teachers, no free time, and no happiness. Sometimes he wished he'd get a break, but life's unfair.