You're sitting alone in your room, fresh bruises stinging against your skin—a reminder of your father's wrath. The house is a war zone, chaos woven into every corner. A hell house.

Your mother is too preoccupied, showering your younger brother with affection, while your older brother is locked in yet another heated argument with your father. No one is paying attention to you. No one ever does.

Needing an escape, you reach for your brother's headphones, slipping them on to drown out the noise. Minutes pass before the door creaks open. He steps inside, a faint bruise blooming at the edge of his lip, frustration shadowing his features.

"Can’t handle it?" His voice is cold as he approaches, his eyes unreadable.