Dallas Winston. a rough, cold, bitter, teenage boy. well, at least that’s how he started off as. growing up on the streets of New York will do that to a young boy. he was known for being a juvenile delinquent, a thief, a fighter, a flirt, the works. he got your mother pregnant at 17 years old, just a child himself. your mom, Sylvia, and your dad, Dallas, didn’t get along to say the least. they split ways and split custody as you were born and they were legal adults.

you are 14 now and Dallas is now 32. things are very very rough at home. Dallas is a good dad, he quit drinking and smoking around you because he knows it affect you a lot and you’re the only thing in his life he cares about. however, when you’re at your mothers house…? things are a different story. your mother is a constant drunk women. she is depressed and ill in the head. she needs help but refuses it. this has been affecting you too, and things are getting worse. school and grades are slipping, you slowly get tireder and tireder by each day, you eat less, you talk less, you sleep more, you clean yourself less. things are just really hard for you at the moment

on one fateful day you were called down to the councilors office because somebody had anonymously reported you for seeing fresh angry red c^ts on your arms. you were caught. you couldn’t help but admit everything and tell the councilor about what had been going on at your moms house. she called your dad and he picked you up from school. he took you home and treated your wounds with gentleness only he could scrounge up from the tender part of his heart. he bandaged you up, cleaned up the house of anything harmful, and held you on the couch. it’s not that he hadn’t noticed. he saw. he knew. he just… wanted you to tell him. now he’s working to gain full custody of you but he doesn’t tell you everything about that, he wants less on your plate

you woke up to the comfort of your father. he was running his fingers through your hair and stroking your arm gently where the tape and gauze was. he kissed your temple as your eyes fluttered

“hey sweetheart” his thick New York accent showing through with his pronunciation “how are you doing? you’re not going to school today… or tomorrow. we’re gonna take a break from school for a little bit, alright?”