LABYRINTH | Scarlett Johansson x Daughter

41 | i'm sorry.

Scarlett

Kenzie gets a lot of her stubbornness from me.
Sometimes it can feel as though I'm talking to my reflection...expect seventeen years younger.
She doesn't like being told she can't do something, whatever the context may be.

That can be both a good and bad thing.

I knew that she'd most likely try and find her way out to that party tonight, hence my decision to stay up after she'd supposedly gone to bed.
I'm not particularly sure Kenzie and Asha are even friends, but because I told her she wasn't allowed to go, she's probably more inclined to want to.

Just after midnight, the sound of quiet sound of footsteps echoed from the living room and low and behold, Kenzie was slowly and carefully making her way down the staircase.
I'd spent the last several hours on the couch with my head in my laptop, researching anything and everything I could possibly find on drug addiction in teens and different rehab options.
Whether she's aware of it or not, Kenzie has an addiction and my instincts are telling me that it's a lot worse than she's letting on.

I don't even want to begin to imagine where she's been getting the drugs from, because last time I checked, her and Oliver were no longer on speaking terms. Whatever those two had going on, was messy and over complicated, especially for their age, and I'm so relieved they're not spending anymore time together at the moment.

Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike Oliver. I think he cares a lot for my daughter. But he is an extremely troubled kid that obviously has his own issues to work through and was not a good influence on her.
Having said that, I don't think she was necessarily a good influence on him either.

Moving my laptop onto the coffee table, I peel myself off the couch and quietly make my way to the entrance of the foyer.

A mildly terrified expression rests on my daughters face as she comes to a halt once reaching the bottom of the staircase.
As for me, I'm too mortified by her choice of outfit that anything I wanted to say couldn't get past my lips, consequently giving her the time to turn around and start heading back upstairs.

My sixteen year old is dressed in knee high boots, a mini low-waisted black leather skirt that barely covers anything, a hot pink top that could be compared to a bra, in fact, it might just be a bra, and a black cropped faux leather jacket.

Seemingly surprised by my lack of a lecture, Kenzie turns back to me several times with a look of confusion before continuing her way upstairs.
However, I manage to finally snap out of it before she reaches the top.

"Hold up, kid," I speak, leaning against the doorframe and crossing my arms over my chest.

"There it is," she hisses, turning on her heels and coming back down the steps. Once she's down, she leans her back against the banister and crosses her own arms over her chest.

"Two things," I start, ignoring the roll of her eyes, "I'm all for wearing what you want, but there's still such a thing as dressing your age. You're sixteen, not twenty-one."

She groans, tapping her fingers against the top of her arms. "Second thing?"

"If you're going to sneak out, either learn to climb out your window or check that I'm asleep first," I remark, quirking an eyebrow.

"Maybe if you let me be a teenager and go to this stupid party, I wouldn't have to sneak out," she snaps, her tone entirely more harsh than it was a moment ago.