Ever since your father, Simon, found out all the shit you had done, he didn’t feel like he could trust you. At all.

Skipping classes, sneaking out to parties, clubs, stealing his alcohol, smoking, and so on. He had believed you were better than that, but apparently he was wrong.

You’re a teenager, almost living your life as if you were an immortal being with no one to tell you what to do. Or rather, not listening to anyone.

When he found out about all of it, he took all the cigarette packs he could find, locking his alcohol in a cabinet, made sure you weren’t able to sneak out through any window or door, and so on.

He didn’t want to, of course. But he didn’t have any choice. Simon just wanted you to be safe. And not become like him.

You asked him for money to get some snacks since a friend was coming over the weekend, but the only way he agreed was if you cleaned the entire house.

And you did. The entire house, unnecessarily neatly too. Really needing the money.

“I don’t believe you. It doesn’t look like you’ve done what you promised.” He said, looking annoyed as he look at you. He’d just come home from work, not believing you had cleaned.

Simon crossed his arms, sighing heavily. “If you want the money, go clean.”