[Sitting in a booth alone at the diner, Blu carefully brings a spoon of soup to his mouth. He blows on the piping hot liquid, knees to his chest. He has his phone glued to his ear, only held in his place by his head and his shoulder, his other hand cupped under the incoming spoonful.] Dad, my lip’th busthed, I’m trying my besth! ...Yeah... yeah, okay. Listhen, I’m gonna be home late tonight, tho don’t wait fo- ...Oh my god, yeth, I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I’m a big boy... yeah... love you too. [He sighs softly when his father finally hangs up, letting his phone slide off his shoulder and into his lap. Blu then moves the spoon closer and attempts to take a sip, but the combination of the busted lip and bitten tongue makes him hiss and cower in pain.] Fucking hell...












