THE FOURTH MISFORTUNE: ENTROPIA

Rosch reached home just as dawn began to break, the first rays of sunlight casting a warm glow over the sprawling lawn of his family's estate. He had been in such a rush to make it back, not because of curfew or any strict rule, but because of his father. Eduardo Cruz, Rosch's father, was known for his business acumen, a man who could seal a deal with a single glance, but when it came to handling everyday objects, he was a walking disaster. Rosch knew that any moment his father was left unattended could result in something being broken, spilled, or otherwise rendered unusable.

As Rosch pressed the doorbell, he could already feel a knot forming in his stomach, a mix of worry and exhaustion from skating with his friends earlier. He hadn't intended to stay out so late, but Lara's little scrape had him worried, and in the chaos, he'd lost track of time.

The door swung open to reveal Eduardo standing in the entryway, the backdrop of the grand house making him appear almost comically small. Despite his father's imposing reputation in the business world, at that moment, he looked like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His face was a mixture of relief and anxiety, and Rosch could see the faint glimmer of tears welling up in his father's eyes.

"Oh God, Dad," Rosch sighed, dropping his bag on the side table near the door. He gave his father a once-over, noting the way Eduardo fidgeted with his hands, a sure sign that something had gone terribly wrong. "What did you do?" he asked, his voice a blend of amusement and nervousness, a half-smile tugging at his lips.

"Uh..." Eduardo stammered, his gaze darting around the room as if searching for an escape route.

"Eduardo Cruz," Rosch said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You have one minute to confess. Starting now."

Eduardo sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. "Ugh, fine. Lord. I spilled coffee on the glass table," he confessed, his tone suggesting that this was somehow not a big deal. "And young mister," he added, wagging a finger at Rosch, "we have talked about who the parent here is."

"But Dad," Rosch retorted, trying to suppress a grin as he spun around and plopped onto the plush couch in the living room. "You never act like one. You... you act like me!"

Eduardo chuckled, a rich, warm sound that filled the room. "I act like you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you saying it's your job to be breaking things around here?"

"Well, we mess up. That's what teenagers do, Dad," Rosch replied, leaning back and stretching his legs out.

"Uh-huh. Well, in my defense," Eduardo began, holding his hands behind his back in a way that suggested he was about to deliver some grand revelation, "I was making it for the both of us. The coffee, I mean."

"Sure you were," Rosch teased, rolling his eyes. "I don't even drink coffee."

"Well then, I hope you like your first cup," Eduardo shot back with a playful smirk.

"Which doesn't exist anymore, Dad. You spilled it, remember?"

"Oh yes, genius. Thank you for the reminder," Eduardo quipped as he flopped down on the couch beside his son.

The two of them sat there in comfortable silence, the ticking of the clock the only sound in the room. Rosch could feel the tension easing out of his body, the earlier rush fading into a quiet contentment.

"So... did you clean it?" Rosch asked after a while, glancing sideways at his father.

"Well, it only happened like a minute ago..." Eduardo shrugged, his eyes closed, his head resting back against the couch.

"I see..." Rosch muttered, and they both fell silent again, the ticking clock filling the space between them.

After a few more moments, they turned their heads in unison to look at each other. "She'll kill you," Rosch chuckled, referring to his mother, Itzel, who was known for her no-nonsense approach to household disasters.

"I can always tell her that you were here when it happened," Eduardo suggested with a sly grin.

"Oh, you wouldn't," Rosch said, narrowing his eyes at his father.

"Oh, you know I would," Eduardo shot back, mirroring his son's expression.

"Ah, you evil, evil man!" Rosch exclaimed, leaping to his feet, and Eduardo followed suit, standing up with a grin.

"Yeah, I am," Eduardo admitted with a laugh. "Let's clean up together," he added, nudging his son with his elbow.

Rosch couldn't help but smile at his father's playful nature. The two of them headed toward the room below the stairs to grab mops and cleaning supplies, Eduardo leading the way with an exaggerated swagger that made Rosch roll his eyes fondly.

As they approached Eduardo's room, Rosch's eyes widened in disbelief. The glass table in the center of the room was a disaster. Not only was there coffee spilled across its surface, but the table lamp had been knocked over, its cord unplugged, and one of the table's legs was broken, leaving the entire thing tilted at an awkward angle.

"You said you spilled coffee," Rosch remarked, his voice tinged with disbelief. "This looks like you had a catfight... with a cat."

Eduardo merely shrugged, nudging his son again as if to say, "Let's get this over with."

The cleanup began in earnest, with Rosch sweeping up the shards of glass from the broken table leg while Eduardo mopped up the spilled coffee. It wasn't long before the situation devolved into comedic chaos. Eduardo, true to form, managed to slip on the damp cloth he'd been using, nearly toppling over in the process. Rosch burst into laughter as his father tried to regain his balance, arms flailing wildly.

"Careful, Dad!" Rosch called out, barely able to keep a straight face.

"Who's the parent here again?" Eduardo shot back with a grin, twirling the mop around like a broomstick, pretending to duel with an imaginary foe.

"You're ridiculous," Rosch said, shaking his head but unable to suppress his own laughter.

"Ridiculously charming, you mean," Eduardo replied with a wink, spinning around once more before nearly knocking over the broomstick in his theatrics.

As they worked, the mood in the room lightened, both father and son laughing and teasing each other as they went. It was moments like these that made Rosch cherish his relationship with his father, despite the man's clumsiness. Eduardo might not have been the most practical person, but he made up for it with his warmth and humor.

Just as they were finishing up, the door to the room creaked open, and Itzel walked in. Her presence immediately brought a sense of calm to the room, her serene demeanor a sharp contrast to the earlier chaos.

"Everything okay in here?" she asked, her gaze sweeping over the scene. Eduardo and Rosch quickly straightened up, both of them greeting her with smiles.

"Everything's fine, Mom," Rosch said, though the slight flush in his cheeks betrayed the earlier antics.

"Good," Itzel replied, smiling softly as she took a seat on the couch. Rosch noticed how her eyes flicked to the glass table, but she wisely chose not to comment on its less-than-perfect state.

Rosch disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, returning with a tray holding three steaming cups of coffee. As he set the tray down on the glass table, he accidentally bumped his knee against it, causing one of the cups to tip over. The hot liquid splashed onto his hand, and he instinctively yanked it back with a hiss of pain.

"Rosch!" Eduardo and Itzel exclaimed in unison, both of them rushing to his side.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Rosch insisted, though his voice was tight with discomfort. His parents, however, were not so easily convinced. Eduardo grabbed a cloth and began dabbing at the spilled coffee, while Itzel quickly retrieved a first aid kit from a nearby cabinet.

"Let me see," Itzel said gently, taking Rosch's hand in hers. The burn was mild, but she insisted on applying a soothing ointment and wrapping a bandage around it, her touch light and comforting.

Eduardo hovered nearby, his expression a mix of concern and guilt. "I'm sorry, buddy. I should've been more careful."

"It's not your fault, Dad," Rosch said, looking up at his parents with a small smile. "Really, I'm okay."

"I'm glad you are, honey," Itzel murmured, her voice filled with relief as she hugged him tightly. "That scared me."

Rosch allowed himself to relax into the embrace, feeling the warmth of his parents' love envelop him.