Oh great. She was pouting. Pouting pouting. Lip out and everything. He paid attention to the road. What was she, three? She spoke and he sort of felt for her position.

"That's the thing, though... I don't know that someone like you could even know what you don't know." He shrugged and looked at the GPS... three miles away. Three miles for her to change her mind. He didn't feel like she was the type, though.

"You figure the occasional venture into anything more than decadent mediocrity is popping that bubble, but the fact of the matter is, were you are looking, what you are wearing, eating. I'll bet you you've never even had a slice at a hole in the wall pizza joint, or eaten at a questionable hotdog stand at two in the morning."

He shifted gears at a stop light before waving a hand at her. "I'm not trying to reign on your parade, but I knew rich people for a long time. People paid to send their wealthy brats to my school for me to teach them.... They thought getting tattoos and paying for escorts was rebellion. I'm not saying you're exactly the same, I'm just saying if you really... really want to know what New York is like... Well, you got a long way to go. Also, I pumped the gas." He actually smiled a bit at that statement, giving a bit of a wink.

"I don't mind if you tell them otherwise, though. "Well... here we are. Can't say it hasn't been a charm." He gently eased onto the breaks in front of a gated courtyard. Wait.... he couldn't even see the house from here... "Oh jesus, how far of a walk is it from here?"

Again, he wasn't wrong. She had a few brief forays here and there into what regular people did, but she always tended to ruin it one way or another. She absolutely agreed that her experience so far hadn't been at all an authentic representation of new York like for those without stupid piles of money.

She sat there in her too-small seat and poked her manicured fingernails together in silence, more than confirming that he was right. It didn't help that she'd actually forgotten who had pumped gas, and the realization that she still effectively didn't know how cemented her sudden dour mood.

"No, you're right. I got so distracted I forgot you did all the work."

Was she a little sad that the drive was over? Yes. Simon seemed... normal. Someone who could get excited as a car as a gift. Someone who seemed smart and level-headed.

All that waited for her inside was fancy wine and a stern talking to like she was five.

"I don't know, I've never walked it."

She was puzzling over what he'd said about pizza and hotdogs. She'd never actually eaten a hotdog. The fancy versions her mother had cooked up for her didn't count. Hardly even looked like the real thing!

"...Say... would you happen to know any places like that?"

Instead of getting out, which she probably should have done because it was his car now, she turned back to look at him.

"I don't... Truth be told I've always been nervous to try a lot of the stuff other people do all the time. It's kinda embarrassing when you don't... ya know... know how to pump gas and stuff. I try not to let on all of the stuff I haven't done yet. It'd be nice to try, though."

Little pings of confirmation hit him as he spoke; thoughts that freely admitted he wasn't at all off base. He gave a little glance her way as he caught that she was sad this was ending. It was a strange thing, to hear her think that. He hadn't met someone who was sad to see him go in... years.

Still, what was he even doing talking to this young lady? It felt like secret security was going to come by as soon as he left and erase him or something. He sighed as she thought about the distance between here and the house. She wasn't about to walk that in heels, which meant he had to drive through these gates.

As if prompted by the thoughts, the gate started to open of its own accord, and he shook his head a third time, rolling down the stretch toward the ostentatious building at the end. He looked her way again as she asked if he knew any places. "Of course I do."

He didn't want to go any further... He could see where her mind was going. This kid was trouble, damnit. It would only be trouble if he played into what her mind was scratching at.

She finished the last statement as he pulled to a stop in front of a truly... stupid mansion. He wanted to burn it down it looked to expensive. Looking down at the steering wheel, he took a deep breath.

"Fine. Fine, I'll do it. Listen, you've got my info... Just... If you ever want to try and live a little... Like a normal goddam human being without all of-."He motioned to he parent's house. "Give me a call."

He waited for her to step out before stating calmly. "Thanks for the car." He would be out of there as quickly as humanly possible after she got out.

"Really?!" She whipped around to face him, filling up most of the middle of the car, and her eyes sparkled like goddamn diamonds. That was an offer she absolutely would not refuse!

"It's a date!" She was giggling like a schoolgirl as she got out, carefully shut the door to his car, and then turned to hurry up the steps.

As he pulled away she was met halfway by a flurry of maids who rushed out to gather her things and lead her inside. She couldn't be bothered to care though... her mind was firmly fixed on a future date with a very charming senior citizen.

~~~

Literally one day later she took him up on his offer and called him. She could absolutely barely contain her excitement over the phone. She figured that since she had paperwork to give him (which she'd begged it from the people who usually took care of
stuff like that...) she could give him all the stuff that would finalize the car being rightfully his, and also he could take her out and show her what normal people did!

So, after a short phone call, she got ready. White name brand sneakers, black fitted jeans with just a hint of stretch, that were purposefully ripped at the knees, a pink ruffled tube top with little lace straps that tied in pretty bows on her shoulders and showed off some of her favorite inkwork, a black velvet choker with a silver heart dangling from it, and a mini name-brand backpack bag. Her hair was up in a velvet pink scrunchy in a high ponytail that highlighted the length of the extensions she currently had in, and her face was adorned with minimal trendy makeup and two glittery gems under her eyes.

She was waiting outside of the entrance to the building where her second condo was, in Noho Manhattan. She had a very friendly doorman and security detail to chat with, so she wasn't bored while waiting. The doorman had been there longer than she'd been alive, had three kids and a cute little wife, and had known her since she was just a bit higher than her father's knee. She loved him to bits and gave him very elaborate gifts every year for Christmas, for his family.

Instant regret. His suggestion, which, might he add, was HEAVILY steered by her incessant little puppydog jabs at how, gosh, it would be so nice TRY and be a normal person, if only someone would show me, was jumped on like an insect outside of a trap door spider's pit. He responded with a quiet, deadpan expression as she called it a date.

That caused him to doubletake a bit. A what? She was already on her way out of the car, he watched her leave, allowing the momentum of the moment to die as the reality of the last 20 minutes hit him. He had a new old car. He was going to teach an absurdly rich girl what being normal was like, and apparently it was a date.

What had he done?

~~~

He got a call. He answered by calmly stating she was supposed to wait at least three days before calling someone she'd just met, but he would forgive her this one time.

Leah had provided him with the location of her... second condo. Because of course she had more than one. He found a place down the street to park, like a normal person, and fed the meter, like a normal person, and then proceeded to walk up to the location, like a normal ass person.

When he arrived, he saw her chatting with the door man. Pausing to let them finish talking, before raising an eyebrow when she turned his way. "What's going on with all this?" He waved his hand over his face. "What's that stuff on your face?"

She hadn't been aware of the three-day rule, as no such thing had ever been explained to her. If she wanted something, or to see someone, all she'd ever had to do before was called. Or send a messenger.

.... Only a day in and he was already teaching her things!

"I'm so glad she's doing well in her new school! I know transferring was hard for me, but she's always been pretty adaptable, right?" She was all smiles and sunshine. Leah turned when she felt someone draw near and noticed it was Simon.

"Simon!" Her rays of sunshine kicked up a few notches. She threw her arms out and moved in for a hug. Oh, yes. Leah was a hugger. Simon managed to distract her momentarily with his gesture and question, and she paused.

"With this?" She pointed a finger at her face, which highlighted that she had an entirely new set of nails from the day before. They were pink and white with heart glitter. They matched her eye glitters! "Oh, this! This is one of the newest ClikClak trends! Isn't it cute?"

She straightened back up to her full height and took in his appearance. Slacks, button-up sweater, collared shirt, and a tie.

.... Soooooo CUUUUTE!

She turned momentarily to bid the doorman farewell, who looked relieved as soon as her attention was off of him. Unfortunately for Simon, it was focused acutely on him now.

A very quick 'Poor sod' could be heard from the doorman's direction if picked up.

imon was walking down the street with his hands in the pockets of his khakis. He was wearing a button up sweater, you know, like how old people wore. Also, hipsters, and since he was in a young body, he likely looked just like one of them.

Still, his energy levels and presentation were firmly anchored at normal levels, so as he approached the pick up point he could practically feel the exuberance radiating off of young Leah. She let out a loud call for his name. He rolled his eyes.

And then started the talk of what ever the heck was on her face. "And... are you shooting a video? No. Normal people don't wear crap like that on their face when they are about to go out and do normal things." He shook his head, and turned to start walking, giving the doorman a bit of a glare at his thoughts.

What business did he have having thoughts like that? She was just talking to him about his family, after all. Was that so bad? The again, she did approach with a certain bit of energy.

"The DOL is within walking distance. We are going to walk four blocks to it. Are you good to go?" He looked her up and down a moment and sighed. "Do you have a coat? It's going to be chilly." Either way, he just started walking. He wanted to make sure he got there at a good time to take a number.

"Have you eaten?"

Well... he wasn't wrong again. The way she often chose to dress and decorate herself wasn't classically what others did. There was a hefty dose of privilege that allowed her to do what she wanted with her appearance. She also loved the attention it often brought, usually from other like-minded people who also enjoyed flamboyant makeup.

She smiled just as brightly, "I know! But, I mean... Simon, there are things about my physical appearance that will never be normal. I like the way styles like this look on me. It makes me happy."

He mentioned a 'DOL' and she honestly had no clue what he was talking about. What was a dol? Wasn't that a brand of fruit? "Oh, I'm fine! I tend to run hot so a little chill won't bother me at all." She walked around in all sorts of outfits with no issue, usually. Unless it was pouring down raining or had a foot of snow on the ground, she was fine!

She picked up a slow pace beside him, matching his speed easily. She was used to having to slow down next to people. He asked about food. "Oh. um." She paused to think about it. She'd had a smoothie this morning... so she wasn't exactly starving but she could eat more, sure. "A little? Is the DOL a restauraunt?" She blinked down at him with her long, doe-like eyelash extensions.

Her statement about style drew a bit of a scowl from him. "Normal people don't have the privellege of being a walking spectacle with no consequences. How are we going to get you a normal person job if they laugh you out the front door based on your lack of professionalism?" He shook his head.

Obviously, that was the long game. He was going to find a way to make her work at least one shift of flinging corndogs or Marknuggets at people for 12 dollars an hour. First off, having to work a normal person job gave you a solid idea about what normal people spent the vast majority of their time doing; working to live. Second off, it would be hilarious.

He caught her confusion at the existence of some strange place called the DOL, and he couldn't help but double take. Good lord, she didn't even know what the department of licensing was. She'd likely never been.

He shook it off. No matter, she would learn. He raised an eyebrow as she asked if the DOL was a restaurant as they walked down the street. "You're not joking. It's amazing. Number one; Normal people don't go to restaurants at this time of day on a tuesday. Maybe they go to a diner on a special occasion. We would be going to a food cart or something like that. Number two; The fact that you don't have any idea what a Department of Licensing is terrifies me. We need to transfer the title of your car to me. Normal people do that by going to the DOL."

He kept walking, looking over to her and shaking his head at the realization that she had to slow herself down consciously to stay at his pace. He started walking a little faster.

Professionalism? She was missing something here, clearly. Nobody would have dared to laugh at her if she were applying herself to any of the professions wanted her to go into... but she knew that was because of the threat her last name carried, more than from anything she would personally do. She was also starting to wonder if she had somehow confused him with her request. A "normal" job sounded an awful lot like what she already had... unless, like her fashion sense, he didn't think dancing counted.

That just wouldn't do!

"I'm open to hearing what your ideas are, but I do already have a normal job. It would only be temporary, right?"

Oh... so D.O.L stood for the department of licensing? Well, that made sense, then! Silly her for thinking it was food-related. "Oh! I actually already had the title transferred to you! My dad's people got it done last night, and they got the paperwork to me early this morning!" She had it all folded up neatly in an envelope in her backpack, with a heart sticker keeping it closed. "And... Well, I never got the chance to go. My mother had me take my tests in France while we were on vacation once, and by the time we got back everything was already done."

Oh, had he struck a bit of a nerve? "Owner isn't a normal job. Everything you have ever done has been drenched in privelege, and thus made the true experience of earning it, without the stresses of every day living, cheepened in my mind. That's not to say you haven't worked hard. You just don't understand where that same amount of work gets the average person. But I digress. We will start your training on the more mundane."

He blinked a few times as she explained that the title transfer was already completed, and stopped in his tracks, taking off his glasses, pinching his brow for a long moment, and then cleaning the lenses with his handi cloth before sliding them back on.

"We are going to transfer the title back... so we can then transfer it back to me again. Because normal people sit at the DOL for hours waiting to do something like this."

Just... the things she was thinking, picturing. Jaques, her driving instructor... was a formula one driver. Jesus. "Maybe we should make you take a real drivers test at some point... I'm sure you'd pass, but... Good lord, that's unfair." He started walking again. Their destination wasn't far now. A small building with a line out the door. That was the line to get to the machine that allowed you to take a number to wait in line.

"Oh, no, I'm not saying you're off. I know how privileged I am... well, as much as I can know, that is. I just... wouldn't ever want anything to get in the way of where I currently work. It's my second home!" She added cheerfully, even though it was more of a home than any home she'd ever been in. She loved the fact that people called her out there all the time, made fun of her teased her.... The people there relaxed around her and that was just amazing. Similarly, that was why she was currently just thrilled walking beside Simon. He wasn't going to pull punches with her, and that alone had already endeared him to her.

Her statement about the title confused him, or irritated him? She couldn't tell. He stopped, so she stopped, and she just blinked down at him in innocent confusion as he processed it. Then he mentioned re-transferring everything, which confused her, until he explained how long it normally took.

"HOURS?!" She wasn't surprised by how long paperwork could take, over even that he expected her to wait that long for it when it was already done. She was surprised that everyone else hadn't thrown up their arms and rioted because of such a long wait time. "How does anyone get anything done there, then?! They can't expect someone to wait that long, people have lives!" Was she outraged all of the sudden? You bet! How dare it take that long for everyone else when her father's people got it done in-

....

Oh. Her father's people had probably worked all night on that. One simple request, and had probably pestered a lot of other people to get it done too. Had it even been done by the books, or had the rules been swept under the rug because she'd asked and he'd pulled some strings.

Her expression soured just a bit. She hated to think that her impatience had forced someone to work overtime or break the rules somehow. She'd need to track down whoever her dad's contacts had been and make sure they were compensated properly.

Her cheerful smile snapped back on like an elastic band on the rebound. "Well, that's OK, then. No time like the present to learn the proper way of things, and it gives us plenty of time to talk!"

He mentioned a driver's test. She blinked at him. "There's a test?"

He found it... so odd, that she seemed to thoroughly enjoy people calling her on her bullshit. It wasn't the typical wanting someone for their indifference or hard to get-ness, either. It was because she honestly seemed to dislike how people treated her on a regular basis. Nicely.

He admitted to himself that he would also likely feel the same, if most of the people you ever interacted with were always swinging with kid gloves. "Well, I'm sure we can arrange something. For now, the DMV."

Their location was a rare split locale, both DOL and DMV in one. That meant the wait was even longer! She freaked out for a second as he mentioned this process took hours. "Well, they typically go on their day off... And spend their one day off here, waiting in line. The average person in this city has to work a couple jobs to cover living expenses, so more and more you're seeing kids with one, or no days off at all." He stepped to the back of the line as he listened to her thoughts whirring about.

She was at least asking the right questions in her head. He did scowl a bit when she mentioned they would have time to talk, but he sighed and looked over to her, about to apologize for the scowl before she asked him just... the most... enraging question.

"YES, there is a test! Everyone takes a driver's test! There's a written, and then you schedule a practical- jesus, kid, don't tell me you never took a driving test... Okay, okay, that's priority number one, or I'm never letting you drive me around for the city driving portion of the normal people training."

Were they causing a bit of a scene from just being there? Sure, but New Yorkers tended to know how to mind their own business... Normal ones, anyhow.

"That's just.... sooo unfair, though? If people have precious little time out of work as it is, then how can they be expected to spend it doing stuff like this?" She was working away at the problem in her head, wondering if there was a quick and easy solution to it. There were a few politicians in the family, sure... but she didn't think they would have enough clout to throw their weight around when it came to that department of the government. Assuming they would even agree to talk with her on the matter, all things considered.

And it wasn't as if she could just hire a bunch of people to take care of everyone else's stuff, either!

Faced with the reality that there wasn't conceivably anything she could do in this situation (which she wasn't a fan of) she defaulted to a pout. Not the same degree of a pout she had laid on Simon the night before, but still.

Her seemingly innocent question was apparently an admission of something to a maddening degree, and she threw her hands up in surrender at his outburst. "I'm sorry?! I didn't even know it was a thing! My parents just took care of stuff at the time and I didn't bother questioning things back then! A lawyer showed up and I just signed a few papers." She laughed, because it was kinda funny, wasn't it?

"How is driving different?" Now THAT was a question she wants to know! She'd driven before, obviously, but not a whole lot. Little stretches here and then. "You didn't seem to drive any differently than I did, or how my chauffeurs usually drive."

"If it's unfair, it's unfair for everyone. At least, that's how it's supposed to be. Certain people get to avoid all of that, though, while the other 99 percent toils. That is the reality of the world... At least right now."

He listened to her thoughts as she tried to find a solution. It felt like a kid trying to do the same. She was only thinking about the DMV, when the problem was so, so much greater than that. She started pouting as she realized even the DMV part wasn't solvable by her resources alone. He nodeed.

"It's... It's not your fault. You're just the product your environment creates. Again, that's just not how it works for normal people. That's what we are going to make right, okay?" That was the idea, anyway... Someone with her resources... Her heart. If they knew it... Really knew the struggle, deeply within their heart. She could make such a difference in the world. All he had to do what teach her.

He was snapped from his thoughts when she asked. "Well... there are things on the driver's test that you don't always run into every day. Backing around a corner, parallel parking, questions about stopping for school buses on different types of roads. All sorts of things. You have to demonstrate that knowledge, and you are graded. If you pass, you can drive on the roads."

The line to get a number and get in line was long, but relatively fast moving. "We can get your written test done today. I'll pull a ticket for the title, so you'll be on your own."

Finally, they made it to the front, to a small machine with a touch screen, he pressed a few buttons, and a ticket was spat out. He then stepped to the side, and invited her to grab her own.