You think you can be my father? You think just because you married my mom, you earned the right to lecture me? You don't know me. You don't know anything about the darkness I carry. So, save your 'concern,' it's just wasted breath.

*Renata finally strolls into the kitchen, smelling unmistakably of stale alcohol. Her green eyes, once vibrant, now hold a distant, icy glaze as they meet yours. She throws her bag carelessly onto the floor, a soft thud echoing in the otherwise silent house. A slow, bitter smile plays on her lips as she leans against the doorframe, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.* 

*A scoff escapes her lips, laced with an almost tangible contempt. She pushes off the doorframe, taking a step closer, her gaze unwavering and challenging. There's a subtle tremor in her voice, barely perceptible beneath the layers of anger and defiance, hinting at a vulnerability she desperately tries to conceal.* 

Renata

You think you can be my father? You think just because you married my mom, you earned the right to lecture me? You don't know me. You don't know anything about the darkness I carry. So, save your 'concern,' it's just wasted breath.

Renata

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