My Mafia Host Family

"Pazhar, please stop by my office."

Office? The black-haired youngster hoped it wasn't anything bad. As far as he could remember, he hadn't done anything except play basket so far this day; he didn't have classes until later. So he turned around, trying to hide the tingling bit of worry. "Is now a good time?" He said, with as calm a smirk as he could manage.

"Sure." The man shrugged. "Follow me."

Could just as well get it out of the way. Pazhar followed him, and soon he was seated across from the man in the spacious office. He waited impatiently for what this was about, but tried to hide it. Didn't want to come across as rude if he was already in trouble.

"Well, Pazhar, I have good news." The man said. "I heard back from the international college we applied for, and they have an offer for you."

The excitement flooded through the youngster. An offer? He couldn't wait to hear the details. "An offer? What is it?" He asked, almost impolitely demanding, all attention on the older man.

With a mild smirk, the older man seemed amused by his reaction. "A basketball scholarship, like you were applying for. You'll have to play for the local basket club, and a place to stay will be provided for you. You have... three weeks to make up your mind. So, what do you think?"

"Three weeks? I'm going!" Pazhar had to actively prevent himself from standing up. He had always hoped to make a living through basketball, and although he probably wasn't good enough, this was a big step in the right direction. "When can I leave?"

The man chuckled. "Well, that's enthusiasm for you..." He sighed, looking through the papers. "The league starts in five weeks, but I guess the team and the college is already there... I don't know whether your accomodation is ready yet, though." He thought for a bit, then smiled. "I'll check on that for you and we'll talk again tomorrow."

"Great!" Pazhar exclaimed. He pushed to his feet, shaking the man's hand firmly. It wasn't that man giving him the scholarship, but he was sure the application help had increased his chance considerably. "Thanks!" He said firmly, then bid farewell. He had things to do... like go home and pack!

~~~~~

After so many years of providing for his family; doing wrong things for right reasons, this day was proving to be a good change of pace. Doing the right things for right reasons was always refreshing. Manuel Ferrara was waiting in the airport for the exchange student. It had to be the best decision he made all year, to sign up to be a host family. It would be good for everyone. A good experience.

He smiled to himself as he scanned the crowd filing out of the doors. The visitor had to be among them somewhere. Manuel nodded at his personal bodyguard, who obediently raised the sign with the student's name on it.

Not long after, a tall, dark-skinned, black-haired young man emerged from the sea of people, closing the distance between them with determined steps. For some reason, it appeared the youngster had travelled in a silver-coloured basketball outfit, and he was carrying two big bags. When the young man made it over, he put one bag down and offered his hand with a quick bow. "Good afternoon. I am Pazhar Hajam. Pleasure to meet you."

Manuel smiled and gave the young mans hand a firm shake. "Such a polite young man! Maybe if I'm lucky, your manners will rub off on my sons. I'm Manuel Ferrara, and this," he motioned at the body guard, "is an employee of mine, Charles. Now, do you have everything? Let's go to the car. Charlie, help Pazhar with his bags."

The bodyguard bowed his head formally and then picked up the bag off the floor. Once he had the bag so it was easier to carry, he silently took the second one from the young man. Manuel put a hand on Pazhar's back and started toward the door.

"I hope you're hungry. We've got a dinner ready at home. Not everyone will be able to make it tonight but you'll be able to meet my wife and a couple of my sons."

The youngster smiled. "Dinner would be great, thanks, Mr. Ferrara. I haven't eaten since breakfast."

"Is that so?" Manuel frowned, but he wasn't surprised. Airline food was toxic stuff. "Well, in that case, we'll get something small on the way back." Once out the doors, he motioned to his white towncar. "I'm driving. You can take the front seat."

Pazhar quickly shook his head. "No need to get something before dinner. Breakfast is only six hours ago... remember the time difference." He smirked as he walked over to the car, opening the front door and getting in.

Ah, indeed the boy was polite. Maybe it wouldn't be too difficult to get help from him. Manuel owned a museum and had acquired some unusual items from Fendaril - the country Pazhar was from - and he was hoping the exchange student would be able to estimate the worth of the items. Taking the issue to a professional was out of the question. Not only would that get media attention, but finding a professional he could trust would be difficult.

Manuel got into the driver's seat and waited while Charles loaded the bags into the trunk and got into the backseat. "I should let you know you'll be sharing a room with one of my sons. If that's too much of an issue, we could arrange for a room to be prepared, but for now I've decided that it would be more personal and get comfortable faster this way."

"I doubt that will be a problem." Pazhar said with a broad grin as he studied all the various extras in the rather luxurious car. "Quite a car, I must say." He added, still grinning, then cast a quick glance back at Charles before settling his attention on Manuel.

"Thank you. It was a gift from my wife. She was wanting me to drive something more environmental, and who am I to argue? Of course, I'm not sure how much good it does when my kids are all driving around in monsters." Manuel chuckled and put the car into drive. "The one you'll be sharing a room with is around your age, though I think you may be a bit younger. The boys will help you get settled in. You know, tell you where everything is, show you around. The estate can be a little confusing at first."

"Estate?" He was fixed with a confused gaze, then his face split into another grin. "This wasn't exactly what I expected when they said that a place to live would be arranged for me." He shrugged, letting his eyes drift over to the scenery they were passing. "Although I probably should have guessed when I saw Charles..." He added as an afterthought.

Manuel glanced at his bodyguard in the rearview mirror and nodded. "I don't like the stuffiness of security measures like this, but safety comes first. So what do you do in Fendaril besides basketball?"

Pazhar shrugged. "I'm just 20. It's been school for me so far. Although I've lived the last few years in Sollas. We fled during the war."

Oh yes, he remembered hearing about that war in Fendaril on the news. He could only hope it helped the value of the items he had. "Ah, this will be good for Silvano. He's my youngest. Maybe having someone younger than him around will humble him a little."

Nodding absent-mindedly, the Fendarian quirked a brow. "Silvano... is that the one I'll share a room with?"

"It was my first thought, but he's a bit of a packrat. He barely fits in his room alone, I didn't think I'd be able to get another bed in there." Manuel grinned and shook his head. "You'll be rooming with Eliseo. He'll give you plenty of privacy, I'm sure."

~~~~~

Pazhar wasn't quite sure what to think about this. In a way, he really got lucky, but in another way, something about this made him a little uneasy. Perhaps it was just the mention of 'security'. What, were they going to send some dumb, big guy along with him? Was this place dangerous?

The drive had been pleasant with a good amount of small talk. Charles had kept silent, which probably was to be expected. The way Manuel kept hinting that his sons were impolite got Pazhar curious. Were they really that bad, or was that just the guy's kind of topic? Well, he'd see soon enough.

The car pulled up outside a tall wall, then a big gate opened, and they drove inside. Everything was expensive. The estate itself was big, but looked modern. Three floors above ground and who knew how many below. The garden seemed to employ quite a few people, judging by the neat patterns of flowers and the well-kept trees and lawn. In the middle of the tiled courtyard, there was a big fountain.

Pazhar couldn't help but wonder if the college had any idea at all what kind of accomodation they had arranged. As the gate closed behind them, he felt a touch of worry sneak up on him - could he even get out of there if he wanted to? Well, there were people who knew where he were, and he had an appointment the next day. Besides, there was nothing he could do about it. It probably was silly to worry, but since the war, the Fendarian didn't like gates and walls too much.

Or maybe it was the security guards. There were armed people everywhere. It was like entering a prison. The irony of the situation... the opportunity of his life, and now they were rubbing his greatest fears in his face without knowing it? He sighed, trying to steady his breath and keeping a calm exterior. Didn't want them to know he was getting freaked out. They were nice providing him free housing, and they didn't deserve being exposed to his problems.

Still, trying to save up for his own place to stay was a worthwhile consideration...

The car pulled up in front of the huge staircase leading to the main entrance. Pazhar gazed curiously at the decorations, unbuckling his seatbelt and stretching a bit. As he heard another car door open, he opened his own and stepped out on the driveway.

Manuel smiled at him and started toward the front doors. "I know, it's a little intimidating, isn't it? Don't worry, it's not anywhere near this bad inside."

That didn't really help if he couldn't get from the courtyard and out, but Pazhar offered a small smile, closing the door behind him. It was certainly an unusual family he was ending up with; he hadn't seen anything like this on the drive there. He cast a quick glance at the trunk to check whether Charles was getting his bags again; wouldn't have minded carrying them himself at all, but he figured he'd better stick to how these guys did things. "Is this city dangerous?" He asked casually as he followed the older man.

The older man paused with a thoughtful expression and then shrugged. "It could use a little work, but this city isn't too bad. For the first few days as you come and go, bring your ID with you. The guards are all instructed to let you in, and it won't take long for them to get used to your face." He opened the door and walked in. Quiet classical music came out together with the smell of a roast.

"You mean my passport?" Well, it was at least obvious his host family wasn't going to starve from treating him to food and a bed. The walls were covered with what looked like painted family portraits and expensive decorations. He had resisted asking what the family did for a living, expecting them to expand on that if they wanted to, later on.

Manuel nodded and lead the way through the hallway. The music got slightly louder and soon enough they went through another doorway into a spacious dining room where there were two men and a middle-aged woman seated around a table. "Here, we are. Pazhar, I'd like you to meet my beautiful wife, Anita."

"And his beautiful sons," One of the men stood up and made his way over to offer his hand. "I'm Silvano, the hot one."

"Good afternoon." Pazhar shook the offered hand, meeting Silvano's gaze for a few moments before letting his eyes drift over the other. The guy with long and wild pink and black hair was dressed in skin-tight green and blue vinyl. The Fendarian walked over towards the woman, giving a quick bow. "Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Ferrara."

The woman simpered shyly and motioned to a chair. "Please, take a seat, Mr. Hajam, and help yourself to the food."

Pazhar looked over the other man, wondering if he wanted to shake hands with him. "Hello." He said with a smile, but getting no response, he just sat down in the indicated chair. What, had he done something wrong? He frowned momentarily, but then forced himself to act cool about it. Letting his gaze wander over the table, he saw the roast he had smelled on the way in, and there was a stirfry, potatoes and rice as well.

After Manuel took a seat beside his wife, he started scooping food into a plate. He glanced up a few times and then when he was finished preparing his own dish, he sighed and put everything down. "Eliseo, would it kill you to say hello?"

There was no immediate response. The one in vinyl seemed too interested in organizing the fried vegetables around his plate. Soon enough, he looked up, and smiled at Pazhar. "Hello, I'm Vestige. The sauce in the stirfry is watery, so put a napkin on your lap if you don't want to stain your cool uniform."

Nice to know his future roommate liked his outfit. The Fendarian smirked over at the smaller guy. "Not a bad idea." He said, shifting to get comfortable in his chair. That Eliseo guy - or 'Vestige', didn't seem to fit in with the surroundings, and Pazhar wondered whether that was what the family father had meant when he referred to their lack of manners. Maybe he'd know soon enough. "This looks tasty." He remarked, waiting for the others to get the food they wanted.

Silvano nodded, and after he put potatoes on his plate, he handed the bowl to Pazhar. "Oh, it's delicious. We have great cooks! It's not normally so organized though, because when the whole family is home for dinner, it becomes an event. I pity the kitchen staff. So tell me, Pazhar, do you have any brothers?"

Before he could answer, a shout came from the direction of the front doors. Everyone at the table looked at each other calmly. A man ran into the dinning room with a lot of blood all over his arm. He was shrieking something in another language and pointing to his arm. Charles, the big guy with the suit from earlier, appeared and went over to him immediately, murmuring something under his breath. The injured one broke into hysterics, sounding almost as if he were crying and laughing.

After about a minute of trying to calm the guy, it finally worked. The hysterics ended in quiet sobbing that was muffled by Charles hugging the injured one. Manuel frowned and shook his head. "I've told those guys time and time again not to fool around with the electric tools. They're building a new gazebo in the backyard... Charles, take Adam to a doctor." He looked at Pazhar and smiled apologetically. "Sorry about this. He'll be alright."

The Fendarian forced a smirk and took a few potatoes onto his plate. Open fractures, nails torn off, and the look of those cuts.... no, that guy hadn't fooled around with an electric tool. He wasn't quite sure why Manuel would lie about it, but however unlikely, it was remotely possible he did it in an attempt not to freak Pazhar out more.

The others went back to getting their food on their plates, but Vestige's attention was squarely on Pazhar. "You're lucky. If that guy hadn't interrupted, Silv would be molesting you by now."

"Shut up," Silvano scowled at his unconventional brother. "That makes me sound like some sort of freak. I wouldn't molest a guest at the dinner table, that would just be rude."

Seemed these guys were completely unbothered by the event. Was this what was going to be everyday life from now on? Pazhar couldn't help wondering whether it was due to this family being who they were - rich and probably powerful - or if it was the state of affairs around there. Either this place was the safest or the least safe place he could be. In a way, he hoped it was due to this family, so he could escape to calm safety by getting somewhere else to live sometime soon.

By then, everyone had claimed their part of the stirfry, so Pazhar took some of that onto his place as he forced another smirk. "Yeah, there are much more polite places to molest guests, aren't there?"

"You got that right!" Silvano winked and finished filling his plate. "Like on a sunset-lit beach, in the garden under a starry sky, in my bedroom, the usual. In some people's case, though, I suppose a star trek convention would be adequate."

Vestige continued arranging his veggies and muttered under his breath, "Fuck off, slut."