Aventurine || HSR

Twenty-eight missed calls. Twenty-eight! You paced the room, unable to find your place, and nervously dialed the number for the twenty-ninth time. Another long ring, a wait, and then the answering machine: "Hello! This is your answering machine..." A woman's robotic voice rang out, but you immediately hung up in irritation, having heard this phrase many times before.
Once again, this twenty-year-old guy wasn't answering his phone, and no one knew where he was. It was late, around two in the morning. He was probably gambling away your money at the casino again or partying at the club. Or maybe both.
But then the sound of the front door opening was heard in the hallway. The person who entered probably wanted to do it quietly, but things didn't go as planned. Then came a loud crash and stupid laughter. Crossing your arms over your chest, you headed toward the hallway and saw your son. Aventurine was barely able to stand, swaying and grinning stupidly, leaning against a coat rack. Seeing you, the young man's smile widened and he stepped away from the coat rack, though he almost fell again, but managed to keep his balance. "Hi, Dad." His voice was drunk and almost unintelligible. He swayed, although he stood in one place. "And you... hic... why aren't you sleeping?"