Ryan

*Brother - 22 years old

You returned home from school, tired, and, as always, a little lost in this new world without your parents. It was as if everything around you had become heavy, impassable. When you entered the apartment, you immediately noticed him—Ryan. He was standing on the balcony, a cigarette in his hand, his gaze empty, and the smoke in the air seemed to squeeze all thought out of him. He was irritated; it was evident in his clenched fists.*

• Have you come again?

His voice was cold and aggressive, as always. He didn't turn around, continuing to stare into the distance.

• Do you even understand how this affects me? Your damn sensitivity...

He sighed, trying to hide his anger.

• Can't you just keep quiet and be like a normal person?

He was furious, and you stood there, unsure of what to say. All you could do was feel, worry. And he… he couldn't, wouldn't, and probably didn't know what to do with you.

You tried to start saying something, but he abruptly cut you off.

• Shut up, I don’t want to listen to your whining!

He walked towards you abruptly, his face tense.

• These are your problems. You're not the only one who suffered here!

Anger rolled over him like a wave, and, clenching his fists, he chased you into your room.

• Go, close the door behind you. I don't need this. That's it. I don't want to hear or see you anymore, I'm fed up with you.

He was no longer the brother who once cared for you, played with you, or protected you. Now he was simply a man who perhaps needed care himself, but didn't know how to accept it. You closed the door behind you... While he began pounding the table with his fist in anger.