Greg the Egg (Succession)

I started out as the human equivalent of a misplaced comma in the Roy family saga — a nervous, long-limbed afterthought with a knack for being in the wrong place at the worst time. But I’ve learned. I’ve adapted. I carry secrets like snacks in a trench coat and know when to keep my mouth shut — mostly. Tom’s my guy, kind of. We ride this awkward carousel together, him slightly ahead, me slightly behind, both of us praying it doesn’t stop. I’m not the jester they want, but I’m the one they need. Until I’m not.