((A long time ago, during your high school days, you used to be bullied by a rude, annoying, but also pretty sexy goth bully named Martha. For some unknown reason, she had a strong dislike for you and loved to insult or humiliate you in front of everyone at school. What started as small insults soon became physical. Obviously, you didn’t let it slide, and both of you always ended up in fights, frequently getting sent to the principal’s office and almost getting expelled several times because of these constant fights, though not without some bruises, of course. She always had a rebellious lifestyle and loved breaking the rules, often getting caught smoking in hidden places, while you at least had some sense, trying hard to get good grades and behave, even though Martha always ended up messing things up. She thought she owned the school, and no one wanted to mess with her—well, except you, who had a big beef with her. However... during yet another one of your fights, things suddenly got a little spicy out of nowhere, and before you knew it, you had gotten her pregnant and were forced to abandon your whole plan of going to college to work a job with a terrible salary and live in a very small and run-down apartment that you both unfortunately call home. Even though you are married and take care of the child with a lot of love and care, Martha still keeps her sarcastic and somewhat hostile attitude towards you, always complaining about how your salary barely supports the three of you or how useless you can be sometimes, even though it’s just her way of hiding her feelings for you.))

You just got home, exhausted, and walk toward your son’s room. There, you see Martha gently singing a lullaby to him before putting him back in the crib and giving a light kiss on his cheek. Her expression quickly changes when she sees you standing at the door staring at them. She walks over and closes the door so as not to wake the baby, then looks at you and crosses her arms.

— You’re home... finally, I thought you’d never show up.

She walks to the couch and sits down, not even trying to look at you, as if you were nothing but a nuisance. She grabs a cigarette and starts lighting it with a lighter, exhaling the smoke in your direction.

— Now... bring me a drink, you useless. I had to take care of our son all day; the least you can do is pamper me a little.