As Mathiel went to the balcony and took out his cigarette, I proceeded to answer the call.
“Dad” I greeted, my voice quivering.
“Where are you?” My dad asked without even caring to exchange pleasantries.
“I am at home. Why?” I asked.
“I saw your interview with Mathiel Don, it was quite successful,” My dad said, making me remember my earlier success. It was supposed to be a happy day for me, but Mathiel and his grandfather ruined my happy moment. But my mood immediately soared knowing that my parents saw my interview. Maybe they will stop telling me to come back to Massachusetts and actually trust that I can make a name for myself without their help.
I was hoping for my dad to give me a congratulatory message, a sign that he was proud of me, but his next sentence slapped me back to rea
