*EDIT: After NONAMESWEREAVAILABLE's review (Thank you very much btw :3) I have decided to edit a little bit of the story. Instead of modern day it is now set in the 1920s. For the most part the chapter is the same but it needed a little editing for me to make it work :L Sorry!
Chapter 2 is being written now :)*
Story number three! I'm on a roll ;D Thank you so much to all the people who favourited and commented on my other stories in the past week or so :D So grateful! And my stats are good too! There are actually people reading my rubbish? ;_; I am so honoured :D Thanks guys!
I've noticed I upload these things on Tuesdays a lot, maybe this shall be my upload day in the future?
Right so this takes place in America I think, no town specifically because I live in England so any word fails are totally my fault and I apologise :') Just leave me a review or something telling me and I'll try not to do it again!
So yeah, human characters based around the idea of the mafia :') Not sure what goes on in my head sometimes. This story just wouldn't leave me alone so here you go :)
Romano/Lovino is a little OC in here but there is a reason to be revealed later on- YES THIS IS NOT A ONE SHOT :)
"Three vanilla ice creams please," the man asked over the counter. His face tired but happy as two small children bounced around his feet playing chase between his legs. They squealed in simple delight.
The young man who served him scowled a little, his pale eyes narrowed at the antics but made no comment as he hurried to make his order. Lovino Vargas liked working in the little ice cream parlour on the main high street of the city; for one it paid well and two it was an easy job. Heck, he even liked to talk to some of the regular customers, but he really disliked noisy kids. He handed over the desserts with an attempt at a smile. The boss always reminded him to smile, it was good for the shop apparently. The man took his ice creams, handed over the money and headed outside onto the busy street. It was a sunny day and a warm breeze from the door lifted the corners of the curtains that decorated the shops windows.
After the man had left the only people still in the shop had already been served. Their chatter filled the small, light room like birdsong. Lovino cleaned the counter top briefly before heading back to his original spot by the till and the newspaper he had been reading, still lying open on the story he had momentarily left. On the page was an article about the recent crime wave to hit the city, the reporter seemed to be questioning if the events were linked. All the crimes were committed in a similar manner; a locked room with no sign of forced entry and all the valuables missing. No guards had been able to fight back against the dark figure that overpowered them. The journalist had not mentioned a specific group but to Lovino it seemed that any idiot would be able to see what they were getting at. Then there was of course the usual stuff about the prohibition and those that seemed to go against the rules at every opportunity, illegal alcohol was being sold across the city. The frustrated police couldn't work out it's source.
These things were not the works of armatures but professionals. Their so called safe city was the home of organised crime. He tried to hold back a snort of irritated laughter: they had no idea-
"Hey Lovi!" A cheerful American voice called, a hand slapped his back painfully. "What'ya doing?"
He turned to scowl at the other man before him. A couple of years younger than himself, Alfred Jones was about his height with sandy hair and glasses, behind which were large blue eyes as if he was permanently in awe. He wore the same uniform as Lovino, a stripped shirt and dark trousers with a small hat on top. The flick of hair at the front of the younger man's head stuck up with an certain defiance out of his head like an antenna. He was licking an ice cream greedily as he looked expectantly at him, awaiting a reply.
"I'm reading the newspaper Alfred." He grumbled turning back to the page, trying but failing to find his place. How annoying. "And I've told you not to call me that-"
The paper was snatched out from under his hands quickly, too fast for him to even lunge for it. Alfred looked over the page thoughtfully but Lovino was doubtful any thought actually went on in his thick skull. His ice cream licking was starting to push a nerve.
"Are you really meant to be eating that?" He said pointedly, the annoyance edging into his voice. "We're working."
The other man shrugged.
"I'm on my break," he argued, placing down the paper on the counter. Lovino picked it up as if he would snatch it away again. "Besides it's mine to eat when I want."
Of course it was. Everything that Lovino saw belonged to the idiot in front of him. His mother had died a year or two ago leaving everything to her eldest son, including the small ice cream shop on the high street. The only reason he was not building an empire of ice cream stores was mainly because he was, quite simply, a moron. The guy was about as responsible as a wet hand rag. He wouldn't know duty if it slapped him in the face, which was why Lovino disliked him so much.
For now Alfred's father and his brother's dad were in charge of the shop, meaning if he wanted any of the earnings he would have to work for them. He occasionally shuffled down the stairs from their home above and did a few hours leaving Lovino with most of the work. It was a good thing he didn't mind: much.
"There's a phone call for you in the back room by the way," Alfred said continuing with his ice cream licking. He was always cheerful and nice even though Lovino was sharp to him. "If you want to take it I'd be quick before Francis comes downstairs."
A strange sinking feeling grasped his stomach for a moment and he clenched his hands. He never got calls at work.
Calls meant something had happened.
He hurried into the staff room and fumbled with the reciever that Alfred had left off the hook, his hands suddenly clumsy. As soon as he pushed it to his ear he spoke.
"Hello?" He was surprised when Feliciano's voice replied.
"Fratello?" His younger brother always converted back to their native tongue when he wanted the conversation to be private. "Are you okay?"
"Si, I'm fine. What's wrong?" He demanded feeling bemused, he whispered down the phone in case Francis, his boss, was close.
"I got scared when you took so long." A tittering laugh and then a moment of silence. "Lovino when will you be home?"
"I'm at work now." He knew Feliciano was aware of this having rang his work this but he reminded him anyway. There appeared to be no immediate catastrophe in any case, his brother wouldn't be able to keep quiet if there was something really wrong. "I'll head back when my shift finishes at six."
"Oh..." Feliciano seemed to waver a little. Something might not be wrong but something had happened. Lovino scowled, if that German kid had said anything else to upset his little brother he would-
"Will you let the driver give you a lift back today?"
He flinched instinctively as if he had been physically slapped by the question.
"No I won't." His answer came out harsher than he had intended, he didn't mean for his voice to be so sharp but he couldn't help it. "You know how I feel about this Feli, I'll get the bus home. Besides I'm locking up tonight, everyone else is leaving early to go to some sort of meal."
There was silence.
"What is it?" He asked warily. Feliciano had such a tendency to over react sometimes; if the call had been from his Grandfather then he would have panicked. As it was he felt relatively calm.
"Grandpa is mad over something Lovi," his brother whimpered. "I think one of his jobs went wrong. Somebody is mad. I'm scared."
"Don't be, nobody knows we exist remember?" He tried to keep the scorn out of his voice. "I'll be fine Feli, please don't worry-"
A cough sounded behind him and he jumped. He turned to see his boss staring at him with his blue eyes narrowed. He wore a similar outfit to his own only without the hat, probably to save his perfect blond hair from being ruined.
"I 'ope I'm not disturbing you, Meister Vargas." Francis said loudly in a heavily accented voice, shaking his head. "I'm afraid zere is work to do!"
"I have to go Feli," he muttered, turning back to English on the phone. He ignored his brothers protests threw down the reciever. Francis glared at him with one eyebrow raised.
"What do I pay you for Meister Vargas?"
"To work, Sir." He did not mention how Alfred was paid for the work he did or how he barely ever got a break. The Frenchman's stare was murder.
"Zat is right: work." He pointed a long finger back in the direction of the shop. "Zere are customers to be served; off you go please."
Lovino hurried to complete his orders, fuming silently as he did them. In the past he would have turned around and yelled profanities until his face turned blue. These days he tried to keep his cool for as long as possible; it was not fitting for an older brother to have such a poor vocabulary. In a way he was thankful that Francis tested his patience as much as he did because it at least showed he had changed. Maybe, he thought, maybe now Grandpa will start to treat him like an adult now he had started to act like one instead of a whiny kid.
"Anything important?" Alfred asked, ice cream finished, as he re entered the room.
The days work was over and the last customers left the shop happy. It was late in the afternoon and the sun had started to set. The nights were drawing in again, Lovino did not look forward to the winter when it went dark early and he had to travel there and back from work. For now the night was clear and the sky tinged with a deep pink, he was trying to remember the rhyme about the weather he had learnt when Francis entered the main dining area dressed in his finest white suit.
"So we are off Lovino." He threw him the keys which he caught easily. "Please lock everything securely and have a safe journey home."
"Thank you sir, I'll try." He was polite as possible to Francis. The guy might have been a bad boss but he was a good man and not used to bossing people around. The power went to his head sometimes. He had attempted to turn the tiny ice cream shop into a bistro when he first arrived, it hadn't gone down well with the customers though and it had been reverted back to it's simple ways within a matter of days. Just how Lovino liked it.
Alfred and his younger brother Matt entered the room also dressed up in suits. They were off to meet Al's dad at a swanky restaurant for a meal, something about a promotion. As far as he had heard from the boy's big mouth, his dad was some sort of paper pusher at the police department.
"Car's here papa." Matthew said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. His dad nodded and they headed out, Alfred waving to Lovino as he went. He watched them leave for a second as stayed stood still until he heard their taxi head away. Then he let out a deep breath and began the chore of locking up the building.
He had spent the last few hours worried about Feliciano and his silly phone call. Whatever could have upset him so much that he'd call? What argument had Grandpa had now? Breathing hard through his nose, Lovino wondered what it would be like to have a normal life for once. To be like Alfred's family and be able to go to meals without it ending in full on warfare. It had been a long time since he and his Grandfather had even spoke let alone eaten together, he was always too busy with the family business. The business that he was one day supposed to run himself.
He wanted nothing to do with it; he had realised this a long time ago but a sense of duty to his brother and extended household made it impossible to turn away. His Grandfather had given him a few years to be ready, to live the life he would never be able to return to again, and then he would take his place. His time was almost up. Too soon would he turn 21 and his life as he knew it would be over.
The locking up complete, apart from the back door he had to leave from, he grabbed his backpack and headed out. The back door of the ice cream shop lead out onto a dingy alley full of steam from the nearby restaurant's kitchen and the general waste of all the other shops. It was poorly lit but the night was pretty bright still and he was able to lock the door easily. With his back to the alley he locked the door and was just sliding the key into his pocket when he heard something move behind him.
And then the cold tip of a gun was placed on the nape of his neck.
The cool kiss of the metal sent a shiver down his spine, terror filled his every nerve. He wanted to run, shout for help but he knew it would do no good. He froze instead. How had he been found? What the hell was going on? Shit, shit-
"No sudden movement, Vargas," A heavy East European accent reached his ears. Male. "Drop the bag and turn around very slowly."
Lovino did as he was asked, holding up his hands in surrender as he turned to face the people behind him. There were two men, they looked older than him by a few years and behind their eyes was something cold and inhuman. The taller man had blond hair which hung over his glasses, the other was a brunette. He was the one with the gun.
"Your Grandfather has managed to piss off some very nasty people, Vargas." The gun was aimed at his forehead. Was this about the argument Feli had mentioned? Fuck, he hadn't thought he was serious. "I'm surprised you don't have a bodyguard around you. And don't lie, we know there's no one here."
That had been just what he was going to do. He licked his lips nervously."What do you want?"
"To simply send a message." He was shocked when the gun was removed, so shocked in fact that he didn't even register the fist flying towards his face before it hit him in the mouth, it split his lip and sent him flying. His head hit the door and he stumbled around dazed. Hands grabbed him and pushed him to the floor. The gravel hurt but not as much as the swift kicks that sent pain all through his body, they we hitting him everywhere; his front, his back, his head. He cried out as a particularly painful blow landed on his arm which he had used to try to protect himself.
The two men suddenly shouted out in surprise and fear and the assault stopped. Lovino lay on the cold hard concrete, aware through the pain of the sound of fighting. He managed to look up though the haze of pain in time to see a figure chasing the other two away, he followed them halfway down the alley before running back to him. Lovino cowered away but the sudden movement made everything hurt and he yelled in pain, his vision turning white around the edges and all fuzzy. When he was next fully aware he had his back against the wall and two startled green eyes were staring down at him with concern.
"Ah, you had me scared there, amigo." The man smiled. "Are you okay?"
LOL Romano sells ice cream :')
Okay so there is more to this, quite a bit more. I wanted to do some stuff with Antonio and Lovino for a while and obviously some other stuff. MAFIA STUFFS GUYS! Thing is I'm not sure whether it'll be worth writing: I don't want to waste my time if no one likes it :)
What I mean to say is please review :D Sometimes it just helps me get into the feeling of writing. It is true that your review love makes me work harder :3 They mean so much to me I can't say -therearenowordsss-They tell me if I'm mucking up or doing good :) And that is very important to me. I like writing to make people happy.
SO THERE IS MORE! I'm not mean to leave it on a cliffhanger! Review=more stuff! And that's a promise :D
I have some cool stuff with Grandpa Rome later (: just to tempt you...
Until next time my dears :3
Hasta la pasta~