"You're quite the lucky patient today." the doctor said as he handed me an x-ray of my leg. "See anything broken?"
"As far as my eyes allow me, no."
"Exactly. The bullet was quite superficially shot into your thigh. Luckily it didn't go too deep into your skin. We removed it and closed the wound with stitches. Be back in 7-10 days so we can remove them, alright?" the doctor smiled kindly.
"Sure. Can I leave now?" I asked, pretty much tired of the hospital decor.
"Right. Your boyfriend is waiting outside. I'll get him in here."
"Boyfriend-"
I was cut off by the tall man who took me to the hospital in the first place. I was pretty bad with blood nowadays and passed out after noticing the gun shot, therefore I didn't remember much. I just knew that Abbacchio was there when it all went down. I was lucky to have him around as I would've never expected that to happen; especially to me.
He entered the room and the doctor made sure to leave us alone, followed by a nurse that was wandering around the room for some reason. I looked at him, from head to toe and, man, he looked bad. I could tell he didn't sleep last night as his dark circles were deeper than mine and he didn't even bother with styling his signature hair.
"Isn't it kind of funny?" I said with a breathy laugh. "Wasn't it the hospital room where we got along for the first time?"
"I'm tired of this place... And having to take you here every time we're around each other." he frowned.
"You used to visit me everyday after I got shot on the duty last summer. Then you... you kind of disappeared. When I last saw you, you were all drunk and nasty. Couldn't even walk yourself home. I wonder what happened to you."
"It's none of your business."
"It really isn't. But I think I am allowed to think about it from time to time. Because, to be honest, you were the only-"
"Stop that." he tried cutting me off.
"-Friend I've ever had."
And there it was. The awkward silence I could never stand and the surprised look on his face. He wasn't expecting that at all.
"You abandoned me." I stated and looked away.
"I didn't-"
"Surprise, shawty!"
I jumped in surprise and looked at the widely opened door where Narancia stood with colorful balloons in his hand. Behind him were Mista and Fugo, their hands occupied with a huge cake and an envelope. In the very back was Bucciarati, who made sure to make his way first to me, not giving a shit if Mista threatened to drop the cake due to his bumping into the hat guy. He sat down by my side and handed me a bouquet of flowers, each of a different species.
"We didn't know what your favorite flower was so we just got you one of each." he smiled, letting go of the flowers.
"Neither do I." I laughed and took the flowers in my hands, admiring the gorgeous combination. "They're so pretty... You guys didn't have to do all this."
"Of course we had! You survived!" Narancia said, receiving a hard slap on his nape from Fugo.
"Yeah!" Mista shouted. "Happy survival day, (Name)!"
"Bro-" Fugo said with a disappointed look on his face, matching Bucciarati's. "We're glad you're okay, (Name)." he said, somehow trying to make the atmosphere less chaotic.
"Thought we lost you for a second there." Mista continued.
"Okay, that's enough!" Bucciarati said. "Excuse us for a second."
He dragged Mista and Narancia out of the room and I quietly enjoyed seeing him scream at them through the window. What a masterpiece...
Fugo stepped closer to me, handing me the envelope. I opened it as he watched me closely, with a smile stuck to his face. There were some papers inside it. I was pretty much intrigued by them and excitedly took them out. Those were my hospital discharge papers.
"Is this for real?" I asked him as a smile formed on my lips. "Tell me you're not messing with me right now."
"I figured you wouldn't like to stay here for long, so we pulled a few strings and now you're out."
"Fuck yeah!" I exclaimed. "I hate hospitals so much."
"We can tell."
"What do you mean-"
It felt incredibly great to leave the hospital that day. I've always been the lame teammate, even in the mafia, that ends up in the hospital. Embarrassing.
As soon as we got home, I had Narancia help me to my room, as I couldn't walk very well. It was nice feeling my bed again. The hospital wasn't very kind to spines, that was obvious.
I had my eyes closed for a second before realizing the boy still hadn't left my room. I open one of them to glance at him then I close it again, not that disturbed. "What are you doing?" I asked him with a sigh.
"Looking around." he said absent-minded.
"I can see that. Why, though?"
He finally realized that what he was doing was lowkey creepy and shrieked. "Uh. I mean, I haven't seen your room after you moved in, that's all. You changed a few things."
"Yeah, it's part of moving in. You actually gotta put stuff in drawers and shit." I said sarcastically.
"...right." he trailed off. "I'll just leave."
He was upset and it took me a few seconds to realize it. "Ah, fuck. Come back here. I didn't mean to be rude. It's just this pain in my leg isn't doing me any justice."
He seemed to have cheered up as he sat on my bed and began talking absolute nonsense. I liked him quite a lot. He had this thing about him that somehow made me feel less guilty about my life choices and shit like that.
As he was talking, I couldn't help but ask him "How do you do it?"
He paused for a few seconds, mouth open and eyes halfway closed. He was trying his best to understand what was I asking him. "How do I do what?"
"Look attractive so people forget you can't do basic math."
And just like that I exposed him. Was it that obvious that he didn't know how to multiply a number? Maybe. But I think it was the fact that I was just as bad at math as him. I could easily spot him. Geniuses think alike.
"How did you- You know, when I first saw you I thought you were a witch of some kind. Now I'm convinced you are."
"I did hex my middle school chemistry teacher." I confessed, not being able to hold that secret with me any longer.
"What is that?"
I ignored his question, not wanting to explain to him something not even I knew.
"What was your favorite subject in school?" I asked, hoping to distract him.
"Uh. I didn't go to school much but when Fugo is tutoring me, I despise all of them." he said with a smile. "What about you?"
"Meth."
"Oh, like, math?"
"No, what the hell? I never liked that shit."
"But you said math-"
"I said meth."
"It's literally the same thing."
"It's not. One kills you and the other you snort and it makes you horny. It also kills you." I said bluntly as I got my hands on a sharpie
"I don't see how you can snort math. Like, do you shove ink up your nose or-"
"I just told you. It's not math."
"But you said 'math'. I'm really confused. And what are you doing with that sharpie?"
"Snorting it." I said as I drew weird shit on my hand.
"That's not your nose- (Name), are you high? Should I get Bucciarati?"
I wasn't high. I think so. I mean, they did put horse tranquilizers in my leg back in the hospital but I think I'm more likely to get high on chocolate syrup.
"No, but I once ate a rock."
"You what-"
"It's not that deep, Nancy. It only happened like two times."
"You... did it multiple times?" he sounded lost.
"It didn't kill me the first time, so..."
"Bucciarati usually doesn't allow me to hang around people like you."
"He's right. But you do anyway. That's motherhood for him."
He looked at the ceiling, trying his best to process what just happened. I could tell I killed some of his brain cells by now and I couldn't be more proud of myself. I really enjoyed messing with people and I was stating to think it showed at that point.
"Hey, Narancia" I said, managing to get his attention. "Wanna have a sleepover tonight?"
He was surprised by my sudden question, but quickly got along with the idea. "What kind of sleepover?"
"The one you go to when your friend is out of the hospital and realizes she can't walk and will probably need help to go get a snack at 3am. We can also build a fort."
He looked at me, no emotion showing on his face. "I'm in."
In a matter of minutes, Mista and Fugo were also in my room, building the fort as I was drawing on some old magazine, since there was no space left on my hand.
We decided to leave Bucciarati out as he was talking about some important stuff he has to do tomorrow. Better let him sleep then screw up this whole thing for him. And Abbacchio just didn't fit the vibe. Neither mine or the party's.
"What do you think, (Name)?" Fugo asked as a few droplets of sweat formed on his forehead.
"Looks cool." I said as I lamely stood up and walked to the fort in an awkward manner, holding the walls with a strength I didn't know I had. The others were too inconsiderate to see how I basically begged for help to sit down. Of course, I wasn't going to actually ask them for it as my ego was too big for that, but still.
I dropped my body to the ground with a loud hiss coming from between my teeth, almost feeling like my leg just left my body and decided to start a life of it's own in Canada. The boys looked at me with deep disappointment and it didn't take an expert to figure they were judging me.
"Don't say shit." I mumbled as I crawled into the fort and rested my leg on the pillows.
"You could've asked for help." the blonde boy said, earning a piercing look from me.
"Fugo, you're pretty but I need you to shut the fuck up."
I took my sweet time to mourn my leg before acknowledging what the others were talking about.
"Did you guys know you can snort math?" I heard Narancia say and I instantly came back to my senses.
Oh, boy.
"Math? Who told you that shit?"
"(Name). Apparently it makes you horny and then it kills you."
Mista and Fugo look away from Narancia and fix their eyes on me, basically telling me to start counting my days. I wasn't sure if they were going to kill me or if I was going to kill myself in one of my failing attempts to run away from my problems.
"You told him about meth?" Fugo said with a confused frown on his face.
"Yes?"
"Just like that? On God?" Mista couldn't even believe what he had just heard. "Can you explain it to me, too? I deadass don't know what that is."
"Hey! I was saying something important here!" said the orange boy, frustrated that his attention was taken away from him. "Look, Fugo. If math is that dangerous maybe we should stop doing it everyday. I'm just sayin', you don't know when it kills you."
"Nice try."
"Anywayyy... I'm tired. Aren't you guys tired?" I changed the subject, not standing one more second of talking about drugs.
"You sleep like a grandma." Mista scoffed, probably expecting something more exciting than the sleepover he was fooled into.
"My leg hurts like a grandma's." I said, trying my best to lay down without destroying my leg even more. "You guys can keep fucking around, just don't go through my underwear or stuff like that."
But we all knew there's no party without me, so they ended up going to sleep as well. It was nice until I woke up in the middle of the night, with a sore throat. I must've been too busy looking around me in a hope that I could find some water (and successfully failing) to notice how my hand was desperately clinging to Fugo's, who seemed to be struggling with blood circulation in his fingers. I gasped at the sight of his slowly turning purple hand and quickly let go of him.
Since I had already fucked his sleep up, I chose him as my savior. My finger poked at his arm, successfully waking him up.
"What's wrong?" he mumbled, still not fully awake.
"I'm thirsty."
"Then get some water."
"Fugo, my leg is falling off."
"So is my hand, damn." he said, only now becoming aware of the pain I caused him.
"You sleep like a creep. No wonder your hand got all crushed." I basically lied to his face.
He looked at me with bored eyes. "You're such a liar." the boy said as he got up. "I know it was you."
"You do?"
"There's no way I couldn't feel that. Where did you get all that strength from?"
"Just shut up and get me that water."
*
"Can I trust you all to not burn the whole house down?" Bucciarati said, fixing his hair clips.
"No." I said from the couch, tilting my head so I could watch him upside down. "But I could promise you the minimum damage if you got me a cat."
"Not happening." he quickly cut me off, earning a whine from both me and Narancia. "I expect you guys at Libbeccio later. I have to inform you about something."
"Why not tell us now?"
"Because he thinks that everything's a business meeting." Abbacchio entered the room.
"It's not a business meeting. I just don't have time for that right now." Bucciarati scoffed, getting ready to leave. "Just don't be late."
"We're never late." Abbacchio sighed, sitting on an armchair.
Without paying the man too much attention, Bruno left us all alone, praying to God that he will have a place to sleep in tonight. Okay, maybe we did wreck cars in our free time, but we weren't that bad. Usually.
"Are we really never late?" asked Narancia, knowing that what Abbacchio said wasn't completely true.
"No." the man answered him, for once, with honesty. "But Bucciarati sounded pretty petty about that whole thing. Might as well just get there early and make fun of him for being the late one. Perhaps, we can have lunch at a normal time, too."
His idea wasn't too bad, as none of us really felt like cooking for the whole team. The others agreed with him, while I didn't find it necessary to comment on the matter.
We used our really new and cool car to get to the restaurant, as Bucciarati refused to drive it after it being used as a murder weapon against him. I didn't really see the problem, judging by the fact that he did not die but ,oh well. Might as well take advantage of it and use the car for our own good. That...unless we crashed this one too.
We didn't though. Hard to believe, I know.
As we sat around the round table and enjoyed our lunch, Mista decided to interrupt the others as they were talking about who knows what.
"Hey, guys! Guys! Just listen to me here!" he said and we all knew the next few minutes were going to be full of bullshit. "I was thinking about this last night while you were talking about meth."
"Meth-?" Abbacchio said but quickly got caught off.
"So, human flesh... If you ate it, would it taste good, or would it taste bad?" he asked, getting told off by Fugo, of course.
"Why are you bringing that up outta nowhere, man?" Narancia whined as his appetite soon disappeared.
"Yeah! Fuck off and go eat by yourself. Fucking disgusting..." I said, very much judging him.
"Just listen to me! I've been thinking real hard about eating... 'Cause whether or not you're living a happy life depends on it. That's why I think this is important." we all looked at him and he knew he had lost us. With a loud sigh, he continued. "So, anyway! There are animals that eat meat to survive, right? Like lions, and cats, and bald eagles... But you can never order the meat of these carnivores at restaurants. Why? It's because they smell too nasty to eat! They taste horrible!"
No, no. He had a point. And we all agreed on that as we got comfortable in our seats, for once not feeling the need to tell him to shut up.
"Yeah? Guys? Cats taste too nasty to eat. You with me?"
As Mista kept talking, I looked at the nearby room, noticing a man. I lean towards Fugo, not remembering to have seen him coming in. "Hey! What's up with that guy?" I asked, pointing in his direction.
"Ah, he's been here the whole morning, waiting for Bucciarati. Or so I've been told."
"Another job?"
"Don't know."
"...I'm getting a bad vibe from him. I'm not sure if he's sketchy or something is coming our way, but neither of those sound too nice to me."
"Want me to go there and check? I could find out the reason he's here." he offered and I nodded.
"Good idea. Nothing too exagerate, though. We're just making sure he has come here with good intentions."
"Can't risk it after the last mission." he said, looking at my leg. "Maybe you should stay here with the others while I handle. I don't want you to get hurt."
"I'm not that useless." I glared at him.
"I never said that. But you just got back from the hospital. It's better if you rest for now and stop stressing about everything." he said as he stood up and found his way to the man.
"Believe me, I can't..."
"SO, THE CONCLUSION! HUMANS EAT MEAT, SO THEY TASTE GROSS!" Mista shouted for the whole restaurant to hear.
"Keep it down, damn." I said, feeling a headache coming my way.
"Well? What do you think of my idea? Those horror novels and movies all tell you how good human flesh tastes, but it's all made up!"
"I see. That does sound convincing." Abbacchio said as he sipped on his wine.
"I...I eat more veggies and fruit than meat, though." Narancia said, giving up on his soup as Mista got closer to him.
"You might taste pretty good then!" he laughed as the boy's face showed pure concern.
"Don't scare him like that, man!" I said, pushing the hat boy away from Narancia.
"I'm just stating facts." Mista said with a grin.
"Facts, you say? Then how would I taste?"
"Probably like shit. All I've ever seen you eat up until now are junk food and candy." he stated with an exagerate chuckle.
"But I don't eat that much meat."
"That's the point. You're worst than a lion."
"Ouch..."
Before we could start arguing, Bucciarati finally made an appearance, giving Abbacchio the satisfaction of messing with him. "Oh...Bucciarati. Took you a while... Where were you? We started eating without you." he said with a smile stuck on his face.
Bucciarati frowned at him, but quickly brushed his comment off as he put on his big boy face. "You remember Leaky-Eye Luca?"
"Who the fuck is that?" I asked as I took a bite from Fugo's steak.
"He's in charge of the airport."
"What about him?" asked Abbacchio.
"...They found his corpse. He died an unnatural death... Let's investigate. Orders from Capo Polpo." I cringed as I remembered that ugly fuck from Satan's hall; also known as the prison.
"I never liked that punk!" Narancia complained as Fugo returned to the table, asking me what was going on. "He had it coming. He always picks on the weak and sells drugs to children. I'm betting he just overdosed on that cheap shit and fried his brain."
"...Narancia, regardless of what you may think, you must never say such things out loud... Not in our world..."
There was Mr. Mom-cciarati. We all hated it when he started talking about the fucking meaning of life and thank God Fugo was there to save us all from further torture.
"Will I be investigating? You're set to become a capo yourself. There's no need for you to spend your time on these matters."
"No... I'll do it myself." Bucciarati said before looking to his right and noticing the man in the nearby room. "By the way, Fugo..."
"Oh, right... I forgot..." the blonde trailed off. "We seem to be having a guest. He's been waiting for you all morning. He's a civilian who runs a flower shop in Piazza Monte Santo. We've run a background check. He's a normal, honest man, but his only daughter passed away about half a year ago.
Bucciarati got seated as Fugo escorted the man to his leader, the rest of us just minding our business. The man had trouble walking, one of his legs not seeming to work as well as the other. I related to him on an astronomical level. He set his suitcase on the chair in front of Bucciarati, not bothering to sit down.
"Mister Bucciarati..." he started, looking rather nervous to talk to the man with an ugly bob. "First of all... As you can see, I have a bad leg. Although normally, my wife would have come here with me... I must apologize for coming alone today."
Bucciarati looked at him unimpressed, giving him the same look he usually gives me when I try to blame others for my shit. "Do you pay your taxes?"
"...Pardon me?"
"Do you do your duty to your country...and pay all your taxes as an honest citizen should?"
"...What do you mean? Of course I do."
"Although I do not know what you wished to speak to me about, this is no place for a civilian like you. If you've been paying your taxes, then you should take your matters to the police or a court of law." he shiften in his seat. "The moment you begin speaking to me, you will own a debt, one greater than you can imagine." he spoke with an intimidating look stuck on the man.
"I...I have done what everyone in this country does. I work for my family, trust in the law, and raised my child well. My only daughter. She turned 17 last September."
As he said all that, the man looked our way, becoming aware of the presence of the losers around the round table. I noticed him stress about something, not really sure what, but if I had to guess, I'd say it was most likely about his daughter.
"I don't mean to impose but, I would like to speak to you in private from this point on."
rude.
We all looked at the two, almost feeling hurt or something like that. Bucciarati looked our way for a second, but it wasn't a look that suggested we leave right away. It was more like an 'I got you' type of look.
"If you wish to continue," he said as he looked back to the man, "Then I regret to inform you that they place a great deal of trust in me, and vice versa. I could never bring myself to tell them to stop their meal and leave this building.
Yeah, Bucciarati was really cool. And because of that, the man didn't find it in himself to complain. He even said his story loud enough for us to hear it.
"This all started a few months ago. I heard from my wife that my daughter had found a boyfriend. It seemed that daughters are reluctant to directly tell their fathers of such things. That boyfriend was a young, up-and-coming sculptor. I thought that was fine, but...what I didn't like was that despite being older than my daughter, that man never even tried to come over and introduce himself to us. And soon after... my daughter went to his apartment, clutched one of his sculptures, a strangely-shaped stone, and..." the man's eyes filled with tears as he said "She fell into the courtyard!"
He cried loudly as he collapsed to the floor, urging Bucciarati to help him and perhaps comfort him, like he always did.
"F...forgive me for l...losing control of my emotions. B...but why must I cry such bitter tears? My daughter...was my hope... she was young... and shining with beauty... I would like you to avenge my daughter. Give that man his just deserts!" he said as he opened his suitcase, revealing an incredible number of lira. Narancia even sat up at the sight of the money, while the others kept their cool. Kind of.
"Wait a moment. What you just said... Was this a murder? Are you claiming this boyfriend pushed your daughter off the roof?" Bucciarati asked, not sure if he was pitying the man or if he didn't want anything to do with all this. " If this were a murder in this city, then I should have heard of it by now."
"These are my life savings... I will give it all to you... The police declared it suicide without any proper investigation into that man. My daughter was not the kind of girl who would've ever wanted to kill herself. The lawyers only wasted my time, and didn't believe a word I said. There are things that only family will understand. My wife and I can say with conviction that our daughter would never have committed suicide." the man could barely handle talking about this and still spent his time trying to convince us, especially Bucciarati to help him. Not gonna lie, I was a big softie at times and I fell for this little show from the very start. But from the looks of it, Bucciarati didn't look too impressed. "And, even if it were suicide, what happened on the roof of his apartment that could have driven my daughter to do such a thing? I beg of you. Please, settle this matter for me. I want that man to taste the same years of despair that I cry now."
"Life can be difficult at times. I'm sorry, but I can't do that. Do you think we're hitmen who perform lynchings over misguided grudges?" Bruno said, although he truly felt for the old man.
"The people of the city trust you. I want you to bring him to justice."
"Justice?" Bucciarati raised a brow. "Mister florist... you told me that you wished to speak in private. Wasn't that because you knew you were saying something you shouldn't be saying?" Bruno sat back in his chair, almost allowing his face to soften. "However... There are things that only family will understand... Those words are not something that can be spoken lightly. I find it hard to believe your words have not moved a single heart in half a year. This boyfriend... We'll see what he knows."
"Huh?" the man looked up at Bucciarati, hope returning to his eyes.
"We will only take your payment if that man is found guilty. Will that be acceptable?" he spoke softly, making the man kneel in front of him and thank him endlessly. "Mista... I'd like to leave this matter to you, okay?" he addressed the bored guy at the table before leaving the building.
"...sure." Mista said as he stood up, knocking a sculpture off its stand that happened to be right next to his chair. He touched it, then started to freak out. "Hey! Did anyone say anything? What did you say just now? Did any of you say anything to me?!"
"Chill the fuck out, will you?" I groaned as the headache I was waiting for finally stopped by to say hi to me and ruin my day.
"Didn't you hear him? Bucciarati said he'll leave the case of the florist to you." Fugo said as he made his way to the door, alongside me, helping me walk. "Come on, already. Bucciarati has to investigate Leaky-Eye Luca, so we'll drop you off on the way. He's already at the parking lot."
"N...No, that's not what I meant!"Mista said, earning even weirder looks from us.
"Mista, don't make a mess of the restaurant's stuff. Put that back on the pedestal."
The hat boy looked beside him, noticing the pedestal Abbacchio was talking about. It was curious how he hadn't noticed it up until now.
"Did I put this stone here?! Was it here the entire time? Did I knock it off the pedestal?"
"Yeah, you just did. Pay more attention, man." I said, waiting for Mista to hurry up.
"Be careful standing up... Don't knock the chair from behind..." Abbacchio said with a sigh.
Seeing as Mista was finally pulling himself together, I allowed myself to ask "Why am I tagging along, by the way?"
"Bucciarati said something about experience...?"
---
Here's a fun game!
CHOOSE YOUR SNEAKY LINK!
I'll just name a few characters that would make some good uninvolved lovers and you guys just gotta comment on the ones you like best. I'll choose the two most- voted and write some really bad smut when the story starts stressing me out lol
Bucciarati
Abbacchio
Prosciutto
Melone
Risotto
Diavolo
Don't you dare judge me for adding Melone or I'm throwing hands.
ly all and have a good one<3