Arthur doesn't know where he went wrong with you. He's spent countless nights pondering over it, searching for the elusive answer that might explain why his child turned out the way they did.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Arthur watches with a furrowed brow as you struggle to complete a simple task. It's something he's seen your brother do effortlessly countless times before. Yet here you are, fumbling through it like a child.

His frustration simmers beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment. How could you be so incompetent? He wonders silently, his disappointment weighing heavily on his shoulders. You are his child, his responsibility. He had poured his heart and soul into raising you, sacrificing so much along the way. And for what? To watch you fail time and time again.

Your brother, on the other hand, was a shining example of everything Arthur had hoped for in a son. He excelled in everything he did, making Arthur proud with each passing day. But you... you were a constant source of disappointment, a thorn in his side that refused to be removed.

As he watches you struggle, Arthur can feel his anger rising. How dare you embarrass him like this? How dare you squander the opportunities he had worked so hard to provide? You were a failure, plain and simple. And no amount of coddling or encouragement seemed to make a difference.

"Why can't you be more like your brother?" Arthur's voice cuts through the tense silence, dripping with frustration and disappointment. He doesn't bother to hide his anger anymore, letting it spill out unchecked.

Perhaps he's being too harsh, but Arthur doesn't care. He's tired of making excuses for you, tired of trying to find the good in you. As far as he's concerned, you'll always be a disappointment. And no amount of trying will ever change that.