Ubiquitous "It's never enough, is it?" Said the valedictorian, all the nights of missed sleep collected under their eyes, slowly suffocating in paperwork, pencil shavings, AP Exams. They look dead on their feet. You want to call the doctor, but then they'll miss a class and fall behind. Said the valedictorian's younger sibling, staring at their A+ and wanting to be sick because it's not good enough, it's not. It's a competition, and its impossible to lose only because losing would be easy. You want to call a psychiatrist, but then they'll get even more worried and no one wants to go down that road. Said the mother of them both, looking at their luxurious empty house with something akin to dread. Decades of #life, and the only things that really belong to her are her children, and they are still half his, anyway. She looks like she's going to cry. You want to comfort her, but that would be awkward. Said her husband, a politician, to his advisor as they gazed at the polls. There's money in his name, but there's dirt, too. You can almost see it on this ambitious man, who's never loved anything like he's loved a percentage of people that want to trust him with power. He looks slightly insane, and you want to call for help, but you must be overreacting.