What am I. That's a loaded question, isn't it? If you stopped anyone in the middle of the street and demanded to know the answer to that, I doubt you'd get very satisfying answers. I find that most people don't have a proper estimation of themselves.

[ He crosses his arms, a little charmed by how utterly flustered she seems to be. ]

But okay. I'll tell you what I am. I'm a guy who got fucked over by the same high society I'm sure you're part of, through no fault of my own, thanks to the transgressions that happened well before my birth. Now? I'm just a man. I drink a little. I gamble a little. And I spend time with people who wish to spend time with me. I break no laws, I break no rules, and I have very little interest in dragging anyone down with me. Anyone who does, comes willingly, but people would much rather have someone to blame.

And you, little miss? What are you?