Enzo

It was my birthday. I almost forgot it was my birthday, but Papa wished me a happy birthday early in the morning. I wondered what was so happy about being born, though.

I had never had a birthday party in my whole life, so I never really cared about my birthday. To me, it was just another day. Sometimes, Papa took me out and secretly bought some of my favorite food to celebrate my birthday, but it was risky, so he only did it once or twice. When I was a kid, he gave me a little toy car as a birthday gift, and I still had it. It was my favorite among all the toys I owned back then, and it was the only toy I didn't break.

"Enzo, come here. You are a man now," Louis suddenly appeared in front of my door.

"Why?" I asked.

"Just come to Papa's office. We have some traditions to follow," he said.

"Like what? Are you going to cut my penis?" I asked, not knowing about any family traditions.

"No, you dog. Just come here. Quick. I don't know why I have to do this," he replied in an annoyed tone.

I followed him, curious about what kind of tradition he was talking about.

We arrived at Papa's office, and no one else was there. On his table, there was a box and two metal gun cases—one big and long, the other smaller.

Louis opened the cardboard box, revealing a chocolate cake inside. He took two candles with the numbers one and eight from his pocket, placed them on the cake, and lit them with his lighter.

"Happy 18th birthday, dog," he said.

"It says 81, though," I pointed out. Louis rolled his light brown eyes and turned the cake until it read 18.

"Blow out the candles, make a wish, and here's the knife. Cut a piece and feed me a slice, and I'll do the same. Then we hug, I guess. Just hurry up; I'm busy," he said.

"Whatever," I replied, blowing out the stupid candles without wishing for anything.

"Did you wish for something?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"Why not?" he pressed, as if I had committed some kind of crime.

"You said you were busy," I replied.

"Whatever. Okay, hurry up," he insisted. I cut a large piece of cake and moved it closer to his mouth. When he opened his mouth to take a bite, I pushed the entire piece into his stupid mouth, covering his face in cake and icing. I laughed so hard while he glared at me with anger.

"It's time to hug the birthday boy," he said, catching me and rubbing his face against mine, spreading the cake and icing all over my face.

As he did that, I reached for the cake on the table, grabbed a big chunk, and smeared it back on his face.

"Oh really, Enzo?" he exclaimed, still holding onto me. He took the rest of the cake and rubbed it on my face in return. As we were throwing cake at each other, suddenly Pedro shouted, "What the hell is going on in here?"

We turned to the door, where Pedro and Papa (Gerardo) stood, looking at us with confusion.

"What the hell are you two doing? Is this how you eat cake?" Pedro said angrily.

"He did it first," I said, pointing at Louis. Louis kicked me in anger.

"Did you give him the weapons?" Pedro asked. Louis turned around, moved the metal gun cases closer, and opened both of them.

"Here are your birthday gifts," Louis said, showing me the guns. "You can practice with them," Pedro added.

"Wow, cool. Now I can shoot Louis," I joked, looking at the guns. Louis pushed me, and I pushed him back. Then he shoved me again, and I retaliated.

"Enough, you two," Papa growled.

"And here are your own credit cards," Pedro said, handing me the cards. I had waited a long time for this moment.

"Now take these cases with you," Louis said. I grabbed the heavy cases and headed out. For some reason, Louis followed me out of the office, and I felt uncomfortable with cake all over my face. I placed the gun cases on the floor and wiped my face with the back of Louis's shirt.

"Hey, stop it, you idiot!" Louis shouted. He did the same thing to my shirt, holding me tight. I kicked him, and he kicked me back.

"Ah, you're hurting me, you creep!" I yelled.

"You started it. Now face the consequences," he replied.

"I'll tell Papa to beat the crap out of you," I threatened while struggling against him.

"Who? Manuel? You think I'm scared of him?" Louis scoffed.

Manuel

"You'd better be scared of him. He has killed two men," I heard Enzo say to Louis while they engaged in their usual ridiculous fight. His words sent a cold shiver down my spine. How the hell did he know that? I never thought he knew about it.

I stepped closer and snatched Enzo away from Louis.

"Stop it now," I said to Enzo.

Louis shot me a rough look. "Manuel, teach him how to use these," he said, gesturing to the gun cases before leaving with chocolate icing and cake smeared all over his face and shirt. Enzo looked the same.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" I asked, picking up the gun cases.

"Shit, the cake was wasted," Enzo muttered.

As we climbed the huge staircase to his room, Enzo started talking about his credit cards and the cake fight, but my mind was elsewhere. How did he know about it, and for how long?

As soon as we reached his room, I placed the metal gun cases on the floor and looked at him seriously. "Can you quickly wash your face and come back? I need to ask you something serious. I can't do that with all that cake on your face," I said. He met my gaze, looking serious, I guess. But he didn't look serious with all that cake smeared across his face.

"Okay," he said, taking some time to clean himself.

"Oh, these are stickyyyyyyyyyy!" I heard him scream while he was showering. "How the hell do I remove this?" he said angrily.

"Use some hot water," I suggested.

"Oh, it's working!" he called out again.

He emerged wearing a towel and wiping his hair with another towel. "So, what do you have to say?" he asked.

"How did you know that I killed two guys?" I inquired, but he didn't seem to care much.

"Oh, Papa told me," he replied.

"When?" I asked, surprised.

"When I was about ten, I guess," he said. "Why? What's wrong?" He looked at me, curious.

"Nothing. I thought you didn't know about that," I replied.

"You didn't want me to know your dark secret?" he joked.

"Only a few people know that. Even my wife doesn't know," I said.

"Oh, so I know your deep, dark secret," he whispered dramatically.

"That's not funny, Enzo," I said firmly. I was literally getting nightmares about what I had done, and Enzo thought it was funny.

"Okay, okay," he said. "Can you wipe my hair and dry it with the hair dryer?" he asked, and I did as he requested. "What else? Do you want me to dress you too?" I teased.

"Yeah," he replied.

"Do it yourself," I said, throwing his clothes at his face jokingly.

While he changed, I examined his guns. Now I had to teach him how to use them.