Prelude

What are you doing up? It's three-thirty. 

It’s the seventh night this week I’ve sat until morning

Oh, great. Here we go. 

Imagining the ways you might have died

Yeah, and tonight's winner is?

In a freak September ice storm with no warning

'Cause that happens. 

There’s a gang war, there’s a bird flu, trains collide

What'd we say about watching the news?

Now you act all sweet and surly

But you’d swore you’d come home early

And you lied

You gotta let go, Mom. I'm almost eighteen. 

Are you snorting coke?

Not at the moment. 

Who's up at this hour?

Your father. Go. Up the back way. 

Why does he hate me?

'Cause you're a little twat. 

You can't call me a twat!

Everything okay? I heard voices. 

Just me, talking to myself, y'know? Now you head on upstairs. I'll be up for sex in a minute. 

You'll....are you sure everything's okay?

Mhm. Go.