Chelsea walked down the steps off her house after finally putting her children to sleep and taking a seat on the stairs, staring up at her mums, Grace, portrait.
She took a cigarette from her pocket and lit it, "You have no idea how much shit you've missed, mum. I know I say this a lot, but I could really use you right now."
Chelsea fell silent as she watched her dad walk down the steps and sit down beside her, lighting his own cigarette.
"Can't sleep?" Chelsea asked, glancing over at him.
"I haven't been able to sleep for ages, Princess." Tommy scoffed, rubbing his hands down his face.
Chelsea smiled sadly, "That's the first time you've called me Princess in a long time. I'm worried for you, dad , this whole brain tumour thing. We haven't spoken a word about it since. You don't speak to me anymore."
Tommy nodded and took a drag of his cigarette before glancing at his daughter and seeing her tired face, "There's no point dwelling on it, Chelsea. We have a meeting tomorrow. Lizzie will attend. I need you to be there again-"
Chelsea stood up abruptly, her frustration evident in every line of her body.
"I'm not a machine, Dad," she declared, her voice trembling with emotion. "I can't just switch off my feelings and do as you please. I have been through so much. I've lost my mum, my Uncle, Polly, my fucking sister! And you expect me to be fine! I'm not a robot! I haven't slept in days, I almost lost my children and you didn't notice! Because of this- because of you- I'm completly empty! I don't feel things, I'm not happy even when I hold my kids in my arms I still feel empty!"
Tommy watched her go, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. He knew he had pushed his daughter too far, had demanded too much of her in his relentless pursuit of power and success.
The grandeur of the Shelby estate seemed to close in around Tommy Shelby as he sat alone on the stairs, the weight of his regrets pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. His once proud posture slumped under the burden of realization, and the silence that filled the vast halls echoed with the ghosts of his past mistakes.
Tommy's mind replayed the countless decisions he had made, each one driven by his insatiable hunger for power and greatness. He had built an empire from nothing, clawing his way to the top of Birmingham's underworld with ruthless efficiency.
His beloved daughter who now seemed like a distant shadow of her former self. Once vibrant and full of life, she had become a mere shell, her laughter silenced, her spirit extinguished by the weight of her father's expectations.
Tommy closed his eyes against the sting of tears that threatened to spill over, the ache in his chest a constant reminder of his failures as a father. How had he allowed his selfish desires to overshadow the well-being of his own flesh and blood?
The memory of Chelsea's hollow eyes haunted him, a painful testament to the damage he had inflicted upon her with his relentless pursuit of greatness. She had become a ghost of herself, lost in the shadows of his towering ambition.
Memory's of her laugh and their good times together flashed inside his crowded head, he had never felt more like a failure than now. He had always needed Chelsea, she was like his rock, keeping him from falling off the edge when he was about to jump from the cliff.
But he had forgotten that he was hers too. She needed him more than he needed her and he hadn't been there and now it had caused her to completly change who she was as a person.
Tommy looked up at Grace's portrait and shook his head sadly, "Grace," Tommy began, his voice barely above a whisper as he addressed the portrait. "I've made a mess of things, love. I've let my selfish ambitions drive a wedge between me and our daughter, Chelsea."
