John shrugs at that, not particularly agreeing or disagreeing.

"I didn't really fit the mould. I tried, but he..."

It had just been difficult. His face scrunches up as John turns over the memory, trying to think of ways to describe that don't seem... wrong.

"He had everything planned out for me, and I didn't want that. I didn't want boardrooms and stocks and shares and meetings all the time. It wasn't me. I guess he couldn't accept that."

He shrugs and unscrews a bottle of water, takes a long sip. It's not something he can change now, it is what it is.