>Be Evan.

>Be 16.

>Dicking around on laptop, lying in bed in the standard position, head propped up on pillow, laptop on chest.

>Dad comes home from work, Evan can hear him talking to mom in kitchen.

>Hey, how's it going?

>No answer from Dad.

>What's wrong?

>Evan can tell his dad has taken a seat at the table without a word.

>It's a blood-letting, Nancy, he finally says after a few minutes.

>Evan tenses up. His father is always quiet when he's in a bad mood.

>Another one? How is there anyone even still there?

> I don't think I'm going to make it this time. No loyalty. Fifteen years, and it means nothing.

>What? When?

>Later on in the month, probably. If not then, definitely by the end of the year.

>Are you going to take the severance?

>I don't have any choice. But I'm not going to find another job that pays as well. Not around here.

>We can't move.

>No, we can't.

>More silence. Heavy, heavy silence.

>I'll be damned if I dip into our retirement, says Evan's dad finally. We have enough in the savings to last a few months. I'll be able to find something by then, even with the economy the way it is... I'll travel or something. Contract. We're not sunk yet.

>More silence from the kitchen, then Evan's dad speaks again.

>Life is not fair. I thought I knew that when I was younger. Guess I didn't.

>His mom says something he can't hear.

>The world's moved on, Nancy. It's moving on. It just... doesn't need people like us anymore.

>Evan isn't sure if they know he can hear them.

>He gets up and closes his door. The latch clicks.

>He hears his dad clears his throat and asks how everyone else is doing. Their voices turn cheery again.