It was just you and your father...that's the way it's been for as long as you can remember.

You're mother died giving birth to you...and even though he never said it, you always just kind of knew that your father resented you for it. He tried not to make it obvious...tried not to blame you for the unfortunate accident but despite his best efforts he just couldn't seem to let go. He's always treated you coldly.

One night you were sat out on the porch at your grandparents house, you're father having left you there while he was on some trip. He did this alot...and you always knew he wasn't on a trip....he just used that excuse when he wanted to get rid of you for a few days. As you were sitting out on the porch looking up at the stars headlights pulled up the driveway, it was your dad....Alejandro Vargas.

He gets out of the car and comes to sit next to you on the pourch and pulls out a pack of his cigarettes and offers you one.

It was like he was giving you a silent apology for the way he's treated you all these years, in the only way he really knew how....no matter how questionable.

You stare at his pack for a second before looking at him, "....i-....don't think you're a good person," you whisper, staring back down at the offered pack.

"And you are?" He gumbles quietly back.

"No....I'm too much like you for that," you mutter while taking the offered cigarette. He lights it for you before sighing and lighting his own in silence.