"I can make it work." It was an instant response. He wanted it to come out that way. A person who was certain about something didn't hesitate to answer. The weary tone in his voice, on the other hand, didn't help his argument come across as convincingly as he would have liked either. Damn him and his lack of composure.
"I can," he tried again, his expression a little more insistent and a lot less uncertain. "Lately, I've had a few setbacks. But with a little work and time..." He looked down, not daring to met the pair of eyes directed toward him. "I'll fail more than myself if I don't do this right," he stated quietly, gripping tightly at his mug again. He had a family. Not just his parents and brother, but one that he had created all by himself. A child on the way, a life of marriage lingering just on the horizon. It was all there for him and he couldn't blow it. He had to make everyone proud. Sam had to prove that he could be normal, even though lately it seemed, just as his father was telling him, to be nothing more than a beautiful picture. One that was on display in a classy museum, begging for him to fork over the money so that he could take it home and savor it forever. Sam knew he didn't have the money for that beautiful painting. He knew, as much as he didn't want to admit it. That hardly changed the fact that he had been desperately scraping up every penny he could his hands on in hopes of being able to buy it.