Blood Brothers 🩸

Shadows of Regret

### **INT. BOBBY'S APARTMENT - MORNING**

The sunlight streamed through the tattered curtains, casting a harsh glow across the room. Bobby lay sprawled on the bed, tangled in sheets that felt more like chains than comfort. The world outside buzzed with life, but inside his mind was a relentless storm of guilt and despair.

"Get up, you piece of trash," he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse from too many nights spent drowning in whiskey. "Can't even face the day, huh?"

He rolled over, the weight of reality crashing down like a freight train. Daniella was gone—dead because of him. Each thought was a knife twisting deeper into his heart. He could still hear her voice echoing in his mind, soft and loving, mixing with the screams of that night.

"Look at you," he scoffed, forcing himself to sit up. "What a real winner you've become. The great Bobby Mercer, king of the losers."

### **INT. BOBBY'S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - LATER**

With a grunt, he finally dragged himself out of bed, his legs feeling like lead. He stumbled into the living room, where empty bottles littered the floor like fallen soldiers. Each one a testament to his failure, a reminder that he had held so tightly to hatred that he'd lost the love of his life.

"Daniella would be so proud," he mumbled sarcastically, kicking a bottle aside. "Real role model for Mia, huh?"

He squinted at the clock on the wall. It was nearly noon. "Great parenting, Bobby. You're winning at this whole 'dad' thing."

Mia's laughter drifted from the other room, bright and innocent, a stark contrast to the darkness that had engulfed him. He paused, the sound tugging at something deep within him. She was just three years old, yet he couldn't shake the fear that she would never truly forgive him for what happened.

### **INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS**

He shuffled into the kitchen, barely registering the bright colors of Mia's toys scattered across the floor. They reminded him of the life that used to fill this space, laughter echoing off the walls instead of the heavy silence that now lingered.

"Hey, kid," he called, trying to muster some enthusiasm, but it felt forced.

Mia peeked around the corner, her big brown eyes wide with curiosity. "Daddy! Look! I made a tower!"

"Nice," he said, forcing a grin that felt like a mask. "A real masterpiece. Maybe you should teach me how to build stuff instead of knocking them down."

She giggled, oblivious to the storm brewing inside him. But as he watched her, a wave of guilt washed over him. "You deserve better than this," he whispered, more to himself than to her.

### **INT. BOBBY'S APARTMENT - LATER**

The doorbell rang, breaking him from his thoughts. He opened the door to find Tommy standing there, looking rough around the edges, but his eyes were filled with concern.

"Hey, man," Tommy said, stepping inside. "You good?"

"Yeah, just living the dream," Bobby replied sarcastically. "How about you? Still not in jail?"

"Funny. I came to check on you. Everyone's worried. You need to get your act together," Tommy insisted, his tone serious.

Bobby rolled his eyes, leaning against the doorframe. "Oh, great. The intervention squad is here. What's next? A group hug?"

"Look, I'm not here to babysit you," Tommy snapped, frustration creeping into his voice. "But you can't keep doing this to yourself. You're going to lose Mia if you keep drinking like this."

Bobby shot him a glare. "Like I don't know that? You think I want to be this way? You think I planned to screw up my life and my family?"

"You held on to hate, man," Tommy said, his voice softening. "You need to forgive yourself, for her sake and for Mia's."

Bobby let out a bitter laugh. "Forgive myself? Sure, I'll just add that to my to-do list right under 'Get my life together.'"

### **INT. BOBBY'S APARTMENT - KITCHEN - MOMENTS LATER**

Tommy moved to the kitchen, picking up a bottle and inspecting it with disdain. "You need counseling. Everyone's been saying it. Even Frances."

"Frances? The guy who thinks a good time is watching old cop shows?" Bobby scoffed.

"Yeah, well, he's got a point. You can't keep avoiding this." Tommy set the bottle down and crossed his arms. "You've got a kid to raise."

Bobby's expression hardened. "You think I'm not trying? You think I want to be this guy? I can't even look at myself in the mirror."

"Then do something about it!" Tommy shot back, his frustration boiling over. "You're the one who has to change. You think Daniella would want you to waste away like this?"

Bobby's heart twisted at the mention of her name. "Daniella's gone, Tommy. I'm the reason she's gone."

"No, you're not. It was an accident!" Tommy's voice rose, but he quickly calmed himself. "You have to stop punishing yourself. You're hurting Mia more than you know."

### **INT. BOBBY'S APARTMENT - LATER**

The silence that followed was heavy, the air thick with unspoken truths. Bobby sank into a chair, running a hand through his hair. "What if she can't forgive me? What if she grows up hating me?"

Tommy sat down across from him, his expression softening. "You're her dad. She might not understand now, but if you show her you're trying, she'll see the real you."

Bobby looked up, meeting Tommy's gaze. "You really think so?"

"I know so," Tommy replied firmly. "But you have to make the first move. Start with counseling. It'll help. You've got to face the demons."

With a sigh, Bobby nodded, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the darkness. "Fine. I'll think about it. But don't expect me to turn into a saint overnight."

Tommy chuckled, a small smile breaking through the tension. "I wouldn't dream of it. Just take it one step at a time, man."

As they sat in the dim kitchen, the sound of Mia's laughter echoing through the room, Bobby felt a glimmer of something he hadn't in a long time—maybe it was hope, or maybe just a fleeting moment of clarity. Either way, he knew he had a long road ahead. But for the first time, he felt like he might just be willing to walk it.

**FADE OUT.*