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Summary
Bradley Uppercrust III didn’t belong here. He knew this was his father’s way of getting rid of him, teaching him a lesson for rebelling in the slightest possible way. He found himself in a circle, surrounded by other patients all wearing that same sickly white uniform and talking about their pathetic issues. It made him sick. He didn’t need to be medicated, didn’t need to do group therapy with a bunch of whackos, and definitely didn’t need that gap toothed asshole waving shyly at him. Fuck him and his pretty eyes.
