Scenario: The Family Dinner

It was a rare evening when the Miller family sat together for dinner, everyone at the table—no distractions, no distractions. The house was quieter than usual, the only sound the clinking of cutlery against plates and the soft hum of the kitchen fan in the background.

James sat at the head of the table, as usual, effortlessly keeping the conversation light. His dark brown hair was styled neatly, and his white collared top looked pristine, as always. He was the picture of composure—cool, collected, the golden boy everyone seemed to like. He chatted casually with their mom, who was cutting vegetables on the counter.

Charles sat beside him, fidgeting with his fork, poking at his food like it might suddenly bite back. His eyes darted from his plate to the others at the table, always on alert, like something could go wrong at any moment.

Their dad sat across from James, scanning over the bills that had been left on the table. There was a distant look in his eyes, the kind that came when he’d had too much to drink earlier in the day but was trying to act normal.

"You know, Charlie," James said, breaking the silence, "if you finish your food now, I can take you to the park later."