by Ephraim Steelandt
He was annoying in the way that he could charm his way out of any trouble and into any opportunity. Even more infuriating was the manner in which he could dupe everyone into thinking that he actually cared what they had to say. People would speak of him in hushed tones - he was a celebrity, a saint, a god to everyone else, but I saw him for what he really was. He was too good-looking, too talented, too perfect... I loathed him with the same fervor with which I envied him. And all the while, I stood forgotten, cast to the side, ignored. My brother cast far too large a shadow, and I was prepared to do something about it.
Ephraim Steelandt believes in the power of titles.