Lucky. I envy you.
I always wanted to be a princess, but dad would never let me. It was all “son, what are you doing? I thought we talked about this” and “I’m making another appointment with the therapist, and if you want to keep living here you will have to go” and “where did I go so wrong? I did everything by the book, why is God punishing me like this?” and the wordless crying over a highball glass filled with cheap whiskey. He was a tough bastard, forcing me to do push-ups and learn how to use drills and stuff, but every once in a while I managed to sneak a few peeks at the mirror while wearing my tiara and those comfy long stockings with the bows or roses on top.
At least I had EVE. If not for this game, I don’t know what I’d do.