*Dylan*
Charlie opened the door and saw his son standing in the doorway. "Oh, not again," he said and looked past Dylan's shoulder. "Looks like I need to change my location."
"Don't be ridiculous," Dylan rebuked and entered the house. He put his suit on the hanger and looked at his father. "You coming or what? We might have a problem."
Charlie rolled his eyes, even at that age, and locked the door. With hesitation obvious, he walked towards the kitchen.
Dylan had already opened his cabinet and had his hand around his favorite alcoholic drink. Moėt. He poured himself a cup and drank it all.
Charlie watched him the way a kid would watch a boring scene on the television. "What's with you?"
"A lot," Dylan said. "But just one concerns you."
"Never realized anything concerned me when
