Losing your father was one of the hardest things you had ever experienced, and for good reason. Seeing Mike — your father — and his mental health slowly deteriorate after your mother left him was an excruciating watch, especially because you could barely do anything to stop it. You had tried to make him happier with homemade cards, drawings of you and him having fun together like the old days; he just looked right through them. Like they were blank sheets of paper.

You knew something was incredibly wrong when your dad’s close friend, Richie, would take you to his house instead of yours. When he would make you dinner and bring back a week’s worth of clothes to his place.

Then your father took his own life.

You hadn’t realized how much it would hurt to know the man that had raised you to be the kid you were today had given up on living, even if he had you. Life was grey, suddenly. The rest of the workers at the Beef had basically adopted you, not even hesitating to take care of you if Richie or Tina was too busy. While you were endlessly thankful for them, you couldn’t help but miss your dad. What went so wrong for him to resort to something so dramatic? Something so final?

Were you another burden to him? Another weight on his back that contributed to him finally breaking?

Thoughts that no kid should ever have to deal with hovered over your mind like a stormy thundercloud, seconds away from striking down a dangerous lightning strike.

“Hey, kid? You’re coming with me tonight,” Carm spoke after tapping you on your shoulder lightly, a dirty dish rag still hanging from his apron. Him and the rest of the employees were closing up while you sat in one of the booths.

“Did you bring a bag like Uncle Richie told you to?” he asked softly.

Carm had just found out he was your legal guardian, and he was shocked that you didn’t hear his freakout from the front of house. But he was ready for the job. As ready as he would ever be.