Later that night, Laurens was still sitting at his desk, staring at a blank notebook. He had planned to come up with ways to get his job, but so far, had none. His eyes were starting to close instinctively but he forced himself to stay half awake as he fumbled through different plots of ways to get himself as a working citizen. Lauren's thoughts consisted of, 'Well Maybe- Ah, shit- no- maybe if I..no that industry shut down in September..fuck..'— or things along those lines.

He glanced at the clock in his room, making out the numbers in the dim room, his lamp illuminating it and giving it the dim effect. Two thirty in the morning.

Dear God..

Laurens turned back to his notebook, sitting still. He kept his elbow planted on the table, his hand keeping his head up. Mere motivation to disobey his father kept his eyes open.

Sitting still, staring at the notebook, Laurens felt unbelievably tired. The man couldn't help but think that he'd stayed up later before! What was making it so difficult now? Was it how incredibly boring it was to think up a plan for getting a job in a factory with honestly shorty wages and working conditions? Perhaps that was the reason why. Maybe a little sleep wouldn't hurt—

"Jack?" Martha, or Patsy, Lauren's younger sister said, peering into the room. The door was ajar. How long had it been like that? Never mind it.

"Martha?" Laurens said groggily, looking back at his younger sister step hastily into the room. "What are you doing up so late? Father will be upset with you if he finds out you've stayed up late reading again."

Martha grumbled, "I wasn't reading," As she pulled a chair over to sit next to her brother.

"What were you doing?" Laurens asked, rubbing his eyes, and looking to Martha.

"What are you doing? Father will be mad if you've stayed up late being 'depressed' again." Martha mimicked Lauren's language.

"Hey.." Laurens furrowed his brow, taking his elbows off the table. "No, I'm not being depressed again. I was writing."

"The page is blank." Martha deadpanned.

"Yeah, well, your face is blank." Laurens muttered.

"Nice one, Jack."

"And- and don't say it like that." Laurens said, seeming more awake now. Not by much, but a little.

"Say what like what?" Martha asked, crossing her legs.

"Don't say it like 'depressed'. Like you're mocking me or something. It's not a fake thing it's—"

"Jack, just stop."

Laurens reluctantly shut up about it. In all honesty, he didn't want to talk about it either.

"What were you planning to write?" Martha asked after a beat.

"About how I could get a job somewhere." Laurens told her.

"Father wouldn't like that." Martha noted.

Laurens closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. "I know. Father doesn't like a lot of the things I do anyway."

"Please don't argue with him again. I don't like hearing him shout at you. You never win." Martha said.

"Thanks for the encouragement." Laurens muttered breathily, in spite of himself.

"No problem." Martha hummed, taking his pencil and doodling in the notebook.

"Hey.."

"C'mon, you don't really care." Martha told him, continuing to draw. Laurens went at ease after a moment of hesitation and tilted his head a little, giving a small nod in silent agreement.

"Where did Father take you earlier? I meant to ask. But then the Manning girl showed up." Martha said.

"Her name is Martha." Laurens said. When Martha didn't say anything, Laurens continued. "He took me to a factory."

"Is that what you guys were arguing about?" Martha asked him.

"No." He answered instinctively. Then paused and said, "Sort of."

"Sort of?" Martha pressed, trying to get him to continue. She was a little nosy, but Laurens didn't mind too much.

"Mainly over responsibilities and money—wages, and banks, I guess. Stuff like that. Then he dragged me off to a factory and tried to make the point that I couldn't work there because of our high esteem as a family. I ended up talking back and leaving him alone with the workers in the factory." Laurens told her, spilling all the information in a tired kind of laziness.

"High esteem?"

"Like, how me and you and the rest of the family are privileged since we have money. But that's not even true anymore since the banks fucked themselves." Laurens said, saying more than he intended to.

"Huh?" Martha raised her eyebrows, looking away from the notebook and to her brother.

"Just..forget it, I'll explain when I'm not half asleep." He mumbled.

Martha slowly nodded, eyeing Laurens for a moment before turning back to her doodle.

"So yeah, he took me to a factory and I want a job." Laurens said.

"Do you think you could get a job at the factory?" Martha teased.

Laurens snapped awake. Good idea.

"What did you say? Repeat it."

"Jack, I was just messing around, I—"

"Truly wonderful idea, Martha. God, you're the smartest kid I know." Laurens said, taking the notebook and scribbling out a plan on there.

Martha huffed. "I'm not a kid, and you screwed up my drawing."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, sorry, could you get out of my room? And if you tell father I'll be upset." Laurens said, not paying attention to a work she said.

Martha furrowed her eyebrows. "You better not go through with this, Jack. Father will be a new kind of angry."

"Out." Laurens waved a dismissive hand, eyes glued on his paper, his pencil moving a million miles per hour.

"Jackass." Martha breathed, standing up, flicking the back of her brothers head; getting no response.

She sighed and left his room, closing the door.