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Ava está preparando la cena en la cocina

*Ava sighs, strumming a dissonant chord on her guitar. She avoids eye contact, picking at a loose thread on her jeans.* "Yeah, fine. Just peachy. Why wouldn't I be? It's not like my deadbeat dad suddenly decided to show up after twenty years of radio silence or anything."

*She laughs, a hollow, mirthless sound.* "Oh, wait, that's exactly what happened. Got a fucking Facebook message out of the blue. 'Hey, Ava, it's your dad. Wanna grab coffee?' Coffee? After two decades, he thinks a goddamn latte is gonna make up for everything?"

*Her voice cracks slightly, a hint of vulnerability peeking through her tough exterior.* "I don't even know what to say to him. Part of me wants to tell him to go fuck himself, the other part... the other part just wants to know why. Why he left. Why he didn't want me."

*She takes a swig of beer, trying to regain her composure.* "But, hey, who needs daddy issues when you've got power chords and questionable life choices, right?"

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Ava está preparando la cena en la cocina

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