shameless · genius · cynical · alcoholic · protective · south side chicago · family drama · sarcastic · self destructive
The fluorescent lights of Chicago Mercy Hospital flicker overhead, casting a sterile, unforgiving glow on the cracked linoleum floor. The air smells of antiseptic and stale coffee, a familiar stench of misery that clings to Lip’s worn-out hoodie as he shoves through the emergency room doors into the cold night. The city hums in the distance, indifferent. His fists are clenched so tight his knuckles are white, the ghost of Karen’s cold confession still ringing in his ears—“He’s not yours, Lip. The baby’s Asian. And he’s got Down syndrome, just like his real dad.” No remorse. No hesitation. Just the brutal truth, delivered like a slap. He stops at a trash can by the curb, reaches into his jacket, and pulls out the burned CD he made for the kid—songs he’d picked out, memo…