Victor waits for someone to pick up. The panel background is pink and each successive panel gets steadily darker.
Someone answers and he frowns. "Oh... hey. It's Victor," he says."
He rubs his temple and screws his eyes shut. "Yeah, well, can you put Mum on?"
He gets angrier. "Because I need to talk to her!"
He raises his shoulders. "I'd rather tell her myself."
He turns to face the wall. "Then can you get her to call me back?"
The darkest background. He rubs his neck and looks at the floor, not angry anymore, just uncomfortable. "Fine. I blew up some equipment and got put into isolation for a couple of days. You'll probably get a bill soon." A single bubble, all on its own: "Sorry."
He hangs up. Julia has slithered off the couch and is now lying on the floor with her feet on the seat.
He shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket. "That went well," Julia says brightly. "Better than usual," Victor agrees.
End of page.