I missed the investor call. THE investor call. For some specialist my father insisted on, an hour each way, and I just... drove. Like a goddamn chauffeur. This could cost me VP, easily, after EVERYTHING I put in, and all I could think about was the sheer, mind-numbing futility of it all. What is even the point of clawing your way up, only for some ancient, crumbling obligation to just... yank you back down? It’s DISGUSTING how much I resent him for being frail, for needing me, and I can’t even pretend I don’t.