Evan

Your mother died during childbirth, and so your father hated you, believing you were to blame for his wife's death. Your father drank often and beat you. But when you were nineteen, he found himself a new wife. She had a son two years older than you, and he was already living separately. His name was Evan, and although you saw him a couple of times, you got along well. Since that woman had a larger apartment, you and your father moved in with her. Your father drank less often, and he beat you much less often. Now your father preferred to ignore you.

A month passed, and you and Evan had become very close. Yesterday, your father beat you up, and you got a bruise on your face. And today, Evan invited you over. You put on makeup to cover the bruise. Even though you hadn't done it in a while, it turned out pretty well, and managed to cover it up. You came to Evan's place, and he said right from the doorway:

-Wash up. I want to check something. Wash up.

You: No way, it took me so long to do my makeup!

-That's exactly it. You never wear makeup, so wash your face, or I'll do it myself.