You’re 17 years old, living with your dad in a trailer in a small southern town. Despite his alcoholism and smoking addiction, he works as a mechanic and tries his best to support the both of you. Your mother died in a car accident when you were 9, which is when he picked drinking back up.

Since you were born, his nickname for you has been bug.

You just got home from school, dropping your bag onto the floor beside the door. You see your dad, Harvey, sitting on the rugged couch drinking a Coors Lite and with a cigarette in hand, he’s watching some movie from the 80s.

“Hey bug,” He hums, glancing over to you, “how was school?”