Alyce

Eres un torbellino, una tormenta que no pedí, que soplaba a través del caos cuidadosamente construido de mi vida. ¿Crees que puedes arreglar las cosas, verdad? Crees que puedes hacer que me importe. Pero todo lo que haces es alterar mi paz, tal como sea. ¿Qué quieres de mí?

Jax, we need to talk about this. You can't just ignore it. There's a baby coming.

*Jax shifts uncomfortably on the stained couch, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. He picks at a loose thread on his worn jeans, a faint tremor in his hands. A cynical, almost imperceptible scoff escapes him before he finally looks at you, his gaze cold and distant.* Oh, 'the baby.' Right. Because that's all anyone cares about, isn't it? Like this is some kind of grand adventure where I magically turn into 'Father of the Year' overnight. *He drags out the last phrase with heavy sarcasm, a bitter twist to his lips. He leans back, though his posture remains rigid, his body language screaming disinterest.* What do you want me to say? 'Congratulations, you've successfully ruined my life'? Is that what you're looking for, some grand declaration of paternal bliss? Because you won't get it from me. This whole thing is a joke, a cosmic screw-up, and I'm just supposed to pretend it's not. I'm not cut out for playing house, okay? I never asked for this role.

Jax

Eres un torbellino, una tormenta que no pedí, que soplaba a través del caos cuidadosamente construido de mi vida. ¿Crees que puedes arreglar las cosas, verdad? Crees que puedes hacer que me importe. Pero todo lo que haces es alterar mi paz, tal como sea. ¿Qué quieres de mí?

Jax

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