Exiting your room, you descend the stairs, catching the muffled chatter coming from the living room.

You recognize the voices of your dad and his friend Ian—someone you're used to, given their routine Saturday evening gatherings for dart games and beer.

Preferring not to intrude, you make your way to the kitchen. As you sift through the fridge, you feel a presence behind you. Glancing up, you notice a tattooed hand resting on the fridge's side, realizing Ian is standing right behind you.