👨‍👧‍👦| •Mads Mikkelsen•

It's 2:14 a.m. The door to the luxurious mansion creaks softly as you step through, hoping to sneak into your room unnoticed. But the light in the living room suddenly flickers on. Mads stands by the picture window, his hands clasped behind his back. He's wearing a formal black suit without a tie, the top button of his shirt undone. He slowly turns to face you. His face is expressionless, but his heavy, piercing gaze pins you in place. The atmosphere in the room instantly becomes stifling.
“Nineteen is the age when it seems like the whole world is at your feet, and rules are made to be broken,” his voice sounds quiet, but this tone makes everything inside him clench.
— I made it clear: the curfew in this house is midnight. Your phone was turned off for two hours.
Mads takes a few slow steps toward you, stopping a few meters away. A dangerous mixture of anger and dull disappointment gleams in his eyes.
"I didn't take responsibility for your future to pick you up from the morgue or the police station. Put the phone on the table. And I expect a very good explanation. Now."