"Seeing as both your parents are deceased, the next course of action would be to send you to your next of kin, Ms. L/N."
My eyes widen. "All of my aunts and uncles live out of the country, sir. I don't speak any language besides Italian," I argue, "there's no way."
"Is a Mr...." my lawyer trailed off, scanning his papers for the name, "Bruno Bucciarati not your elder brother?"
"Well, yes, but he's my adoptive brother, I rarely-"
"Adoptive, biological, it's all the same in the paperwork." He cuts me off, "In fact, I've already contacted Mr. Bucciarati and he's agreed to take you in."
The large man shuffles in his desk chair. He straightens out his papers with a huff.
"I suggest that you pack your belongings, Ms. L/N. You have a flight to Napoli tomorrow afternoon."
Finality seeps into the air. I'd try to argue my way out, but I know the answer. Until I'm a legal adult, I have no say in where I'm taken or who I'm with.
I just hope that my brother is the same kind boy that I remember him as.
_ _ _ _ _
The Napoli International Airport is noisy, filled with star struck tourists and cranky businessmen. I can hear the pleasantly robotic voice announcing the coming and going of flights.
Napoli is nothing like Milan.
I shake my head, brushing out my intrusive thoughts.
You've been places alone, Y/N. You'll be fine! Just focus on finding your bag on the belt.
Like magic, the large suitcase careens down the conveyor belt, a brightly colored sticker pressed to its side.
The people around me reluctantly step back to let me through. I take my suitcase by the handle, struggling to pull it up over the safety railing. It's not too much trouble though, and I'm soon rolling my bag away, looking for an open seat in the open room.
It's so loud that I can barely form a cohesive train of thought. I'm turning around every three minutes because I think that my name is being called.
"Y/N?"
When I whip around, I'm surprised to find that it wasn't a hallucination. A man is standing in front of me.
He's wearing an expensive white suit, dotted with black print and zippers dangling from every seam. His leather shoes clack as he drops his foot down, standing regally.
"Bruno?" I ask.
The man nods, a slight smile gracing his face.
I rush into his arms, catching him off guard. Sniffling, I utter rushed apologies.
"I'm so sorry, Bruno. So, so sorry."
Bruno wraps his arms around me, rubbing my back to try and comfort me.
"What are you apologizing for? You did nothing wrong, Y/N." His chin rests on the top of my head.
"I haven't seen you in years! And when your dad was in the hospital, Mom didn't come and visit. I didn't even know. I'm so sorry for not being there!" I wail, clutching the back of his suit jacket.
"That's why you're so upset? Y/N, look at me."
He steps back, forcing me to stop clinging to him. My hands are soon brought into his as he attempts to calm me down.
"You were a child, Y/N. It's not your fault. I was hoping that you'd remember me, though. I am your big brother, after all." He chuckles.
I only sink back into a sobbing mess.
"I'm such a bother, though! I don't see you for years, and now you have to take me in because...." my words choke me, "because Mom is gone." I say bitterly.
He sighs, and I look back up at him.
"I'm thankful that you're safe. You didn't get to chose who you went with in the divorce, you were only a baby. I don't blame you, and neither does my father. Okay?" Bruno brings a hand to my cheek, brushing off a stray tear.
A quiet whine came from my throat when I tried to speak, so I just nodded.
"Okay. Have you eaten today?" He questions.
I shake my head 'no'. My clothing has become increasingly interesting, as I'm fidgeting with it to avoid Bruno's skeptical stare.
"That's unhealthy, it's already noon." He states.
"I didn't really have any time," I defended myself, "the lawyer told me yesterday evening that you had agreed to take me in. I thought that I'd be in Milan for at least a few more days while they talked about getting my passport in order to go overseas."
"You're not a bother, Y/N, you're family." Bruno maneuvered around me, grabbing my suitcase. "Come on, we can go get pizza. I'm starting to get hungry as well."
"Okay."
Bruno steps forward and glances back, waiting for me to join him.
"Hey, Bruno?"
"Hm?"
"I love you."
He sighs, tilting his head up.
"I love you too."
_ _ _ _ _
A half-empty box of pizza is sitting on my lap while Bruno drives the car to my new home. We were nearing the outskirts of the city, the cramped alleys turning into manicured lawns and vineyards locked behind wrought-iron gates. I'm fairly sure that I saw a horse.
"Napoli looks a lot nicer than I remember it as." I mention while staring out the car window.
"That's because the streets aren't ridden with drugs." He glanced over at me for a moment when the road straightened out. "It's amazing that you can remember Napoli, Y/N."
"Hey, I don't have the memory of a goldfish!" I chide, turning my head to look at him.
Bruno looked just like he did from the snippets of childhood that he was featured in. His hair hung down in sleek, straight locks, framing his face and bright blue eyes. He's surprisingly pretty for a man, you might be able to mistake him for a woman if he wasn't adorned with muscles.
Bruno chuckled, "I'm just surprised that you can remember it, that's all. The last time that you were here was when you were six. At Christmas." He elaborated.
"I was joking with you, Bruno." I yawn, "Can you get jet lag from flying in the same time zone? I'm exhausted."
"I'd say it's from stress. Traumatic events seem to do that to people."
My face drops. I was having such a great time being with my brother that I had forgotten the reason that I was here.
"Yeah..."
Bruno stayed quiet, focusing on the addresses on the mailboxes. He slows and flips on his blinker, turning into a driveway. The gate was already propped open enough to drive through, so the car slowly rolled down the paved driveway, stopping in front of the house.
I gasp, looking up at the giant house.
"It's not much of a home yet... after the lawyer called, I had to make some arrangements." He states, pulling the keys out of the ignition.
The doors unlock, and I step out of the car, standing awkwardly in front of a practical mansion. Bruno follows suit, grabbing my suitcase out of the back seat.
He's the first one to the door, already turning the knob and stepping inside.
I'm following him inside. The ceilings are arched, bringing out traditional architecture while still fitting a modern style. Everything smells new, though I'm drawn to the fact that there's no furniture.
Bruno sets my bag down near a hallway entrance.
"My interior designer said that they'll be decorating tomorrow, but I did manage to get the beds brought in. You can pick your room; it doesn't matter to me."
His voice echoed in the empty room.
"Did you just buy this house? For me?" I ask. "This place is giant, what do you do for a living?"
Bruno hummed, crossing his arms. "I'm a private contractor."
He walked over to me, taking the pizza box from my hand.
"I'm going to put this in the kitchen. You go explore." He commanded.
"Okay!" I called as his footsteps clacked away.
There's a staircase adjacent to the hallway, so I walk up the steps. It's another empty room, a hallway sticking out from the back of it. Three doors on the left, two on the right.
I deliberate for a moment before deciding to open the left doors first.
The first one was a bathroom, the second a small bedroom, and the third a slightly larger one.
I tried a door on the right, and I was gasping. The room had large bay windows. They opened the room to the golden Mediterranean sun.
I walk to the window, leaning against it.
And to my surprise, it creaked open, helping me to notice the small balcony that it led to.
"This room just keeps getting better." I babble to myself.
I bring my hand up to my eyes to shade myself. It seems like I can see for miles, past the vineyards and fountains, a long orchard, and to the cliffs, the cerulean blue waters sparkling.
I'd fix the window later. For now, I want to unpack. I've found my room.
_ _ _ _ _
What clothes I had in my suitcase weren't hard to put away. With such little notice, I had stuffed as many of my favorite pieces into the bag that I could. A shoebox took up the most room. It has my family pictures in it, along with some heirlooms that I couldn't risk getting pawned off.
I packed a few small boxes of appliances and trinkets that are supposed to be shipped from Milan in the next week or so. As for the rest, my parent's will dictates that it be auctioned in an estate sale.
"Y/N!" I heard my name being called from downstairs.
I open my door before shouting out a "COMING!".
My feet clack on the stairs (I had forgotten to take off my shoes in the excitement) as I make my way to my brother.
There he stood, hand on hip. He held the set of car keys in his hand.
"We need to go to the store to buy the essentials. Do you want to come?" He asks.
I shrug. "I don't have anything better to do."
It's a relatively short drive to the strip mall that we park in front of.
"Here." Bruno pushes something into my hand as I snap my attention to him.
It's a shiny credit card.
"Bruno I-"
"I want you to go into that store," he points to a artisan bath store, the obnoxious pink framing the name sticking out like a sore thumb, "and put what ever you need on the card while I take a call."
"...Okay." I agree.
We step out of the car and walk across the parking lot to the entrance of the store. Bruno stops, turning away and pulling a flip phone from his pocket. He gestured for me to go inside, and I open the door, the overwhelming scent of perfume starting to give me a headache.
Two attendants immediately flocked toward me.
"Hello! Welcome!" A mid-20s blonde greets me. "Are you looking for anything in particular?" the brunette asks me.
I pause, trying to collect my bearings. How do they work with this smell?
"Um, not really." I respond, "I need to get shampoo and conditioner. Oh, and soap, but I guess you already knew that."
"Great! Well, we'll let you look around. If you need any help, don't be afraid to let me know!"
"I'll be available too!" they call out to me.
I look out of the window, watching as Bruno brings his phone to his ear. He's turned away from me, so I can't tell what he's saying.
Must be important. I think to myself, disappearing behind a rack of Tuscany goat milk soap.
I don't know how long I'm standing in front of a rack of soap trying to figure out the difference between 'English Rose' and 'Italian Rose', but I seem to have been taking too long, since the blonde woman is approaching me with a box.
"I think that I have your perfect solution!" she squeals, almost tipping the contents of the box over. "We just got in a new line that smells just like (favorite scent), I'm sure that you would love it!"
A hoard of bottles were neatly stacked atop each other.
"Is that it?" I question.
"The full set. If you'd like, I can ring you up and you can be out of here in a jiffy!"
I contemplate for a second. Eh, what's the worst that could happen?
"Sure."
The saleswoman leads me to the counter (where the brunette is glaring enviously), and drops the box onto the surface. She pulls out various bottles (which I'm unsure of their use, I thought that shampoo and conditioner were the only things you need for your hair) and rectangular packages, each time pressing her manicured nails into the buttons on the register.
Soon, she's tetras'd the items to fit in a large bag branded the same obnoxious pink color. The woman squints at the cash register display, turning back and smiling at me.
"And your total is € 275, 38! Are you paying with cash or card?"
I raise my eyebrows at the outrageously high price. What the hell are they putting in this stuff to make it so expensive?
Nevertheless, I hand over Bruno's credit card, watching her as she slides it through the register, pulling out my receipt and handing them both back to me.
I pocket the card, knowing that that bag would crush my hands if I tried to lift it with one arm.
The attendant slides the bag to me, letting me pick it up off the counter, carrying it in my arms.
"Thank you." I say, already making my way to the door.
"Have a nice day!" She cheerfully calls.
I push the door open with my feet, shuffling out.
"That was borderline extortion." I comment.
"What?"
I peek over my bag just as Bruno hangs up on the phone, sighing frustratedly.
"That was borderline extortion." I repeat. "It was like 275 euros, what the fuck are they feeding those goats that make a bar of soap the same price as a train ticket to Rome?"
Bruno calms as I speak. "Watch your mouth." He warns me.
"Okay, okay!"
My arms are relived from their burden as he takes the bag from my hands.
"We need to get towels today." He states, pulling on the sleeve of his jacket. "What do you want to eat for dinner?"
I smile mischievously, putting out my opinion, "If we went and got more pizza, we wouldn't have to go get groceries tonight..." I drawl, hoping that I've sneaked the thought into his mind.
He tuts, catching me in my scheme. "I know what you're trying to do." He warns, "But fine."
Bruno sighs as I cheer.
"You're not eating pizza twice in a row, though."
There's always a catch.
"Pasta?" I question.
"Just not pizza."
I cheer again, "Pasta!"