Part of the charm of taking mostly online classes at Empire State University was the fact that Emerson could spend a good chunk of the week in Westchester County, in his room at the X-Mansion. That was going to change soon, he knew, because of his looming internship with X-Corp. He’d be staying in the city more once that became a thing the following semester. For now though, this was nice. He was working on his degree, he was around his dad and his half-brother, and he was able help out with the X-Men when trouble invariably hit every Wednesday, like clockwork.
Currently, though, Emerson wished he had something to do besides study. It was possible he was biting off more than he could chew what with having declared a double major, though both of his parents seemed confident in his ability to pull it off. Then again, maybe I’ll just quit it all and become a full-time style influencer. That seems to be working out well. Not that he knew how much actual mileage there was in that particular career. Sure, he was doing well now, but what would the landscape for that be in five years?
Then again, I’m practically a legacy X-Man. Is there a point to any of this? He knew that there was – eventually, if he didn’t end up curating a museum or something, he was going to be taking over Frost International for his mother. But he also knew that he was always going to be an X-Man. That didn’t weigh heavy on him; it was a legacy he was proud of. There were times, though, where it felt as though he wasn’t really sure what all of it meant, what all of it would lead to.
He glanced at his phone, tempted to fire up a hook-up app to see if there was someone close by who could help him get his mind off of things. He thought better of it, though. Once all was said and done, he usually hated himself for taking part in something that was ultimately so meaningless and emotionless.