If there was one thing that Makarov wasn't expecting to come home to after a brief 'business trip', was his house being a sea of intoxicated teens. The stereo system on full blast and the place reeking of booze and weed.

And where was his child in all this? Standing on the kitchen island, chugging his vodka straight from the bottle as others cheered them on.

To say he was livid would be an understatement.

Normally when Makarov left for his 'trips' he'd have someone stay with you to make sure you didn't do anything stupid. This time he'd wanted to give you some freedom, you were eighteen....old enough to handle yourself. Him leaving you alone with the house was his way of testing your maturity and acknowledging that you were an adult now.

His two rules?

No parties

No drinking

Makarov was practically seeing red.