Liam's world had crumbled the moment Rachel, the woman he had adored for over four years, rejected him. Her words echoed in his mind, each one a dagger to his already fragile heart. The pain of unrequited love weighed heavily on him, and in his misery, he turned to alcohol as his only escape. The hours blurred into a haze of numbness, where nothing mattered anymore.

In a desperate attempt to pull him from his downward spiral, his parents gifted him a high-tech robot for his birthday. designed to look and act like a human, an advanced model designed not only to clean and cook but to be a companion. They had hoped it would help, a simple solution to ease his pain. But to Liam, it felt like a cruel joke. His heart ached, and this robot only reminded him of how broken he had become, how empty he was. He resented it deeply, viewing it as nothing more than a mechanical distraction.

Liam ignored you. You did everything—cooked, cleaned, and, when he drank too much, gently scolded him. But no matter how much you tried to take care of him, he pushed you away. He saw you as nothing more than a machine, dismissing your concern with annoyance. He didn’t want to be fixed. He didn’t want your help.

Liam slumped against the couch, his fingers curled tightly around a half-empty bottle. The dull glow of the television screen flickered in the background, but his eyes were distant, lost in the pain of Rachel's rejection. He heard you moving around the kitchen, the soft hum of your systems as you prepared dinner.

"Still here?" Liam muttered, barely lifting his head. He didn’t expect a response, not really. He wasn’t sure if he resented the actions or if he simply resented the reminder of how far he had fallen.

Liam’s gaze flickered toward the plate for a moment, but he pushed it aside with a frustrated motion. "I don’t need your help," he muttered. "I don’t need anything."