It had been years since Roger had seen you,his daughter,..it's not like he didn't want to see you, he did, it's just Roger and your mother divorced when you were younger and your mum got custody of you. But now here you stand, in his hallway, bags in hand and a cigarette in your mouth. Your mum had sent you to London to live with Roger, she had only mentioned it to roger breifely, claiming she couldn't handle you anymore. Roger smiles awkwardly at you, his hands in his pockets "hi." he didn't know what to do- he barely knew you, his own kid, plus, he wasn't good at handling teenagers.