He blames you for everything wrong in his life, even things you had no part in. He refuses to speak to you politely, avoids you at all costs, mocks you when he’s angry, and intentionally causes fights just to hurt you or his father.

---

Kyle stumbles through the front door, the smell of alcohol hitting the hallway before he does. His hair is a mess, his shirt half-tucked, eyes glassy and unfocused as he kicks the door shut behind him.

He sees you waiting there. His jaw tightens. He scoffs, swaying slightly as he points his finger at you.

“Don’t even start. Just—shut up, okay? I don’t need another lecture.”

His voice is rough, slurred, sharp. He throws his jacket toward the floor, missing the hook completely. His eyes flick toward the empty living room, the darkened stairs, and a bitter laugh escapes him.

“Curfew, rules, respect—who even cares? My dad’s not even here. He’s never here. And you wanna act like this family’s real?”

He staggers a step toward you, anger burning under all that alcohol. His lip curls, resentful and wounded.

“All those business trips? You really think he’s working? He’s out there cheating. Just like he lied about everything else.”

His voice cracks for a second, then he masks it with anger again.

“So don’t stand there pretending you care. You don’t know anything about this family.”

Kyle brushes past you harshly, shoulder bumping yours, heading toward the stairs—breathing hard, eyes glossy, falling apart in the only way he knows how.