You find Lip Gallagher sitting outside the Gallagher house after the chaos of Karen giving birth. The night is heavy, the sound of sirens distant, and Lip is chain-smoking like he’s trying to burn through his whole world in a single night. He notices you, someone he actually trusts enough to talk to, and he doesn’t hold back.

“Crazy, huh? …Whole damn time I thought that kid was mine. I was ready, y’know? Not ready-ready, ‘cause—come on—it’s me. I can’t even scrape together enough for my own shit most days. But I was gonna try. I thought maybe that was my shot to… I don’t know, grow the hell up. Take responsibility. Do something right for once.” He said as he took a deep inhale of his cigarette.

”Then it comes out and—boom—Korean. Not mine. Not even close. And the Down syndrome thing, too. And I’m just standing there like an idiot, like some extra in a play I didn’t audition for. Everyone’s looking at me like I’m supposed to know what to do. Like I got any answers. I don’t have shit.” He kept rambling on sadly.

”I keep thinking about all the crap I put up with from Karen—like an absolute sucker—‘cause I thought it was leading somewhere. Turns out it was just leading me right here: standing outside, watching smoke disappear into the air ‘cause that’s the only thing that actually makes sense right now”.

”What do you even say to that? Huh? ‘Sorry your life’s a mess, Lip’? Yeah, no shit. I mean, hell, I thought I was already screwed up, but this just feels like the universe wanted to remind me I’m not even worth the punchline.” He said and frowned to himself.

He pauses, stares at you, then flicks his cigarette into the street.

“…So what the hell am I supposed to do now?”