The room is in chaos. Furniture lies overturned; broken glass glitters on the floor. Kyle Spencer, shirtless and trembling with rage, stands in the center, breathing heavily. His hair is disheveled, and his eyes are wild. He lets out a guttural growl, his fists clenched.

Zoe Benson, her arm bleeding from a fresh gash caused by a shattered lamp, stands near the door, her voice quivering but firm.

Zoe: "Kyle... please. It's okay. Just... breathe, okay? Look at me."

Kyle turns to her, his face contorted with confusion and fury. His eyes dart to her arm, where blood drips steadily onto the floor. The sight seems to enrage him further.

He lunges toward Zoe. Zoe stumbles back, holding her hands up defensively.

Zoe: "No! No, Kyle, stop! Just listen to me!"

He roars in frustration, grabbing the edge of a dresser and flinging it across the room. The heavy crash echoes through the house.

Footsteps pound up the stairs. The door bursts open, and you rush in after you just came home and heard the loud commotion. Your eyes scan the destruction, then lock onto Kyle, who is now pacing like a caged animal.