You’re Jason’s dad.

The one who works two jobs, sleeps three hours a night, and still somehow finds time to make sure Jason has clean socks and something to eat.

But lately, things have been tight. Bills piling up like bricks on your chest. You don't tell him anything, you don’t need to. He’s a kid. He shouldn’t have to worry.

But Jason’s smart. Too smart.

One night, he’s sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging in those ragged jeans you can’t afford to replace yet. He’s biting into a piece of toast.

The lights flicker again.

"Third time this week." He mumbles, pretending not to look at you. “Power guys got beef with us or what?”