𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

29 || Boys Club

You can't blame me.

"He wrote everything in those journals." She explains. "I'd be surprised if the truth of the universe wasn't in there."

The truth.

"Now, will you stop being such a big baby and wish your father a happy birthday." She yawns, pulling back her sheets and slowly but surely getting into her bed.

I glance to the window where sunlight beams into the room, casting a warm glow onto her bed where she lies down and can't help but smile as sitto prepares for her afternoon nap.

I briefly debate joining her.

A nap sounds good, but so does any ounce of information.

I approach her bed, "I'll do you one better." Leaning over, I place my lips against the skin of her forehead before pulling away, "I'm gonna go see him."

. . .

Thick polluted air, angry car horns, pedestrians shoulder to shoulder giving the dirtiest of looks to each other.

I breathe it all in.

Ah, how I loved the city.

I head into into the building, the gold pleated writing beneath the even larger gold plated clock a reminder of the place I'd once called home.

il Ademaro  - The Perfect Getaway.

Everything looks the same, yet feels so different.

A little girl runs past me, chasing a group of boys with nothing but a toy hammer in her hand. I follow them into one of the banquet halls just in time for the lights to dim, before the room lights up again, only this time alongside a chorus of "Sopresa!"

The man at the heart of the surprise smiles, his brown eyes warm, lips stretched into a smile and sharp features, the only trait I'd inherited softened.

A birthday party.

I always knew the Italians loved any excuse to come together, but I never knew it'd be like this.

Kids running around, women sitting around, laughing, talking, taking photos, while most of the men huddle around the bar, with drinks in their hands.

And at the heart of it all?

The Ademaro family.

It all makes me physically ill.

How I ever thought I could be one of them is beyond me. I'm nothing but an outsider looking in, only difference now is that this time, I plan on destroying it all.

Eventually when I can't take the sight of them all anymore, I slip out of the room and head towards what I really came here for.

The journals.

Aside from the elevator which led to a locked door, the left staircase was the only way to directly access my floor.

Thirteen flights of stairs bring me to a large metal door. On instinct I grab the handle, twist but unlike every time I check, the handle twists allowing for the door to open.