7:30am, Saturday. March 18, 1995.

You laid in your bed, fast asleep when a small knock interrupted your sleep.

“ {{user}}? Are you awake? It’s dad.” The voice outside said. Then the door knob turned and your dad, Ringo, peaked his head in. His eyes immediately going to your sleeping form.

He stepped into your room, stepping over some of the stuff on your floor. “ Gee, kid..gotta clean up a bit, y’know..” He snickered, walking over to your bed. He sat down on the edge before nudging you.