Brayden's dad sits at the head of the table that sticks inside the house, putting a bib on in the same motion. I have to remind you all that he still has an unnaturally stained wifebeater. Why do people think a wifebeater is an acceptable name for an undershirt? Too much on the nose if you ask me.

"WHY ARE YOUSE STANDING THERE WITH YER MOUTH OPEN LIKE ONE OF THOSE FLYTRAP THINGS?" asks Goro like a punch in the face. "COME, SIT DOWN, EAT UP!"

Okayden takes out an umbrella from his magical coat of random shit and opens it up inside, much to Goro's protests.

"HEY, YOU, DENNYS DE FURRY MENACE," he says, smashing his hands against the table. "DON'T YOU KNOW IT'S BAD JUJU TO OPEN AN UMBRELLA INDOORS? JIMIN, LIAM, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO."

The pair of beefcakes snatches the umbrella out of Okayden's hands, toss it to the ground, and begin to unload round after round of white-hot lead on it, courtesy of Mister Glock. Once their magazines were empty, they took out new ones, loaded their pistols, and went at it again. Nobody bats an eye at this, except Okayden, who looks like he's about to cry.

"There," said Jimin, handing the umbrella to Okayden. "Ain't no bad juju about a colander."

Okayden grabs the newly-minted colander, twirling it pitifully on his hand as ribbons of fabric fell on top of his hat. My heart, my precious bean.

"WELL, WITH THAT SETTLED," says Goro, "PLEASE SIT DOWN."

Me and Hayden sit down opposite Brayden and... do I have to say it? Please don't make me say it. Okayden, on the other hand, stood in the shadows, twirling the umbrella. Or is it a parasol? Anyone know the difference? This is like a ladder/stepladder situation.

"Uncle, is there a way you can give that seat to Okayden?" asks Hayden, all the way casually putting a hand on top of my leg under the table. Cheeky.

I slide it out. I'm not quite there yet.

"WHAT? WHY? WHEN?" says Goro. "I'M THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY, SO I SIT ON THE HEAD OF THE TABLE. I GET ALL THE HEAD AROUND HERE."

Jesus Christ on a cracker, the jokes write themselves.

"daddy, teen wolf over here is one of them hemophiliacs," says Brayden, putting his hand around... you know what? It isn't worth it. I have a bit of self-love.

"IS ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHO LIKE MEN?" asks Goro, just as a man, waiter, manservant person brings a tray of food, placing a plate in front of us. More on that later. "DON'T WORRY, WE DON'T JUDGE HERE. YOU CAN BE WHOEVER YOU WANT UNDER MY ROOF. EXCEPT A NARC. ARE YOU A NARC?"

Jimin grabs Okayden by the scruff of his coat and pulls him closer. "Be honest, you narc, or you will be sleeping with the fishes."

"I wanna go home,

Please, let me go, I'm very much,

Allergic to garlic," says Okayden. Poor baby. Time to chime in.

"I think the word you're looking for is heliophobia," I say.

"WHAT? YOU AFRAID OF HELIUM?"

"Do I cancel the balloons?" asks Jimin.

"hey, no fair! i want my balloons! fuck you, spike!" yells Brayden.

The... you know, the person, the one Brayden wants to marry, grabs him by the cheeks and turns him towards here. "Hey, babe, look at me. I love you. Calm down. Focus on me. Just look at me."

I think I'm going to puke. If it wasn't for Hayden's hand squeezing my thigh, I would totally blow my chunks. But I think that's because of the dish in front of me: spaghetti gimbap. Imagine sushi, but instead of rice, it's spaghetti, marinara and all. It's disgusting in a sadistic way.

"WELL, THERE'S NO HELIUM OUTSIDE," says Goro. He puts his feet up on the table, revealing an ankle monitor beeping softly. "AND I CAN'T GO OUTSIDE AND SIT ELSEWHERE. SO, WHAT'S IT GONNA BE, BABY BOY?"

Okayden steps outside, and thankfully, he fails to catch on fire. He does sizzle slightly though. We could've eaten inside if this was going to be a problem, but by the look of sheer satisfaction on Goro's face, like someone with lactose intolerance looking at Nikocado Avocado eat a whole tub of ice cream, he won't entertain the idea. Kind of perverse, if you ask me. Sometimes we crave things we can't have.

"YEAH, STEP ON THE GRASS, BABY," he tries to whisper but fails miserably. "CRUNCH THAT GROUND. TEACH IT WHO'S BOSS."

"Okayden, this is shivering my timbers," I say.

"I don't know what that means," says Okayden.

"alright, let's eat," says Brayden, grabbing a gimbap that drips of sauce, before being slapped by Goro.

"YOU BRAT, I DIDN'T TELL YOU TO EAT," he says. I honestly think the slap was unnecessary. His vice was punchy enough to destroy anybody.

"i'm sorry," says Brayden. He tries to bury himself on his seat, but the... girl grabs him by the shoulder. I've never been more glad about my shoulder spikes.

"SPEAK LOUDER. I CAN'T HEAR YOU."

"i speak plenty loud! why don't you ever listen to me?

"Look at me," she says. "Calm down, relax."

"WE DON'T EAT UNTIL EVERYONE'S HERE. WHERE IS THAT OTHER DIPSHIT?"

My eyes wander towards the opposite end of the table, because they can't mind their own damn business. There is a lone plate of gimbap, getting cold, or hot, or room temperature. Odd.

One of the goons, which I'm forgetting who's who already, whispers something into Goro's ear. His face scrunches us like a cat's bunghole, and just about as sour.

"WELL, IT SEEMS SOMEONE'S SHIT SMELLS LIKE FLOWERS AND ROSES AND DOESN'T WANT TO MINGLE WITH US STINKERS. BONE APPLE TEETH, YOU FUCKS," says Goro, followed by grabbing the food and shoving it all at once on his open pie-hole. I think I know where the red stains came from.

Hayden slowly picks at his food, his face as puckered and sour as Goro's. As for Brayden, he's feeding his bride-to-be while she swallows the whole roll in one go. Well, at least I can see why Brayden would like her.

"So, uh... fuck me. Y/N?" I say. "How you two met?"

The girl looks at me with her green/blue/purple eyes, and I know full well that there is no soul behind her. She is an avatar of the universe, blank, and boundless. "Well, I was with my cousin, Ariana Grande-"

Of course she is.

"-and I receive a message from my daddy, Sirius Black - no relation - and told me that I had a marriage proposal to marry this lump of sugar."

"Y/N'S FAMILY HAS A MONOPOLY ON HOME PRINTER INK. IT'S THE BEST RACKET THERE IS. THIS UNION SHALL EXPAND THE KIMCHI-CANNOLI EMPIRE TO THE MOON AND BACK. WHY ARE YOU NOT EATING YOU GIMBAP?"

This is it. It is my "Come to Jesus" moment. There is no way in hell I'm gonna put this in my mouth. Brain, quick, think of stuff. Plate, chair, Hayden's hand, Pythagoras, Sysyphus, rocks, rock and roll, butt rock, rock me Amadeus, sausages, eat. Got it.

"Well, I wasn't told we were having lunch," I say politely. "I already ate, so I'm kind of full."

"OH WELL," he says, reaching out to my plate and grabbing my gimbap, "MORE FOR ME. WOULD YOU LIKE A DESERT?"

I'm too shook to say anything. C'mon, brain, save me again.

"Sure?"

Fuck.

"EXCELLENT. MANSERVANT, BRING THE THING!"

The butler person bows before disappearing into the ether. Or to the kitchen, whichever happens to be closer.

"Uncle, I hope you're very proud of you boy here, keeping things running and going to school," says Hayden,again squeezing my leg. I don't get it. Is he trying to tell me something? Does he want to be kinky? What's the deal here?

"HE DIDN'T BURN DOWN THE PLACE WHILE I WAS GONE," says Goro, shoving more disgusting spaghetti rolls and spotting sauce everywhere. Brayden's white shirt looks like a Pollock at this point. "SO, YEAH, LET'S SAY HE DIDN'T MANAGE TO FUCK UP THE MOST SIMPLE OF THINGS. I CAN'T KEEP DONATING MONEY TO KEEP HIM AT SCHOOL. HE EVEN TOOK CARE OF FAT TONY, THAT FUCK. GLAD HE'S GONE."

By the suddenly bulging eyes of Brayden, I'm gonna say he realized he fucked up big time. He turns around in his seat to cough just in time to catch someone rounding the corner. That someone is a fat man in a sweatshirt and shorts, jogging towards them, with two weights in his hands while followed by Jungkook and Harry. The fat man waves at Brayden with a smile. Brayden answers him back with a finger across the throat.

The man looks confused, and then pained as the realization of his fate is sealed. That, and that Jungkook and Harry grab him by the arms and drag him away. Brayden turns around just in time to give his father a smile as the distant sound of a gunshot is heard.

"yes, fat tony. took care of him, as in, i killed him, and not put him in a mandatory diet to help his diabetes with a matching exercise plan to booth. thank you, daddy. and thank you for introducing me to my wife-to-be."

Hey, wait a second. Goro said that he didn't know about her until Brayden told him about her. But Brayden just said Goro was the one who introduced her to him. So, either one of them is lying, or there is something else going on here. And you know what? I couldn't give two flying fucks about it. This ain't my life. I'm not about to dip my quill in mafia ink.

"WHAT? SPEAK LOUDER, BOY."

"why can't you listen to me?"

"Baby, look at me. Relax."

"I'm also still here,

Don't forget about me, ya boi,

I love that movie."

A plate is placed in front of me in the middle of all that chaos, and I'm regretting every decision I have ever made. In front of me is a cannoli, topped with glasse sugar. It wouldn't be a problem were it not for the fact that it's filled with kimchi instead of mascarpone. It smells like a thousand pustulent cysts, with sugar. I think it makes it way worse. Shit covered in sugar is still shit. And oh god it's warm.

"ENJOY THE DELICACY OF THE KIMCHI-CANNOLI FAMILY!" yells Goro, and this time, it's a proper scream. The glass table rattles with the power of his voice. "IT'S THE BEST OF BOTH WORLDS, A SYMBOL OF THE UNION OF SICILIAN AND BANGTAN FAMILIES. PLEASE, DON'T SPIT ON THE FACE OF OUR HOSPITALITY. EAT UP."

Both goons behind Goro take a step forward, putting their hands inside their jackets in a pretty blatant "Do it, or you will follow Fat Tony" way. Another hand, this time Hayden's, squeezes my leg. I think I'm starting to get why he's doing it. He's trying to be there for me during this time of need.

I grab the still-warm cannoli, slowly dripping fermented juice into my sleeve, and put it close to my mouth. The smell of slightly-rotten cabbage with sugar violates my nostril. I can almost feel my capillaries shrivel up and die. Well, I have to be a big boy and put it in.

The first thing I feel is a crunch, followed by spicy vinegar, mixed with a mulch facilitated by the sugar, mixing salt, spicy, and pure sweet into a gut punch, but from the inside.

"SO? YOU LIKEY?"

I would prefer to have my gonads punted by a football player, the european kind. "Great. Very interesting mouthfeel. Could you point me to the nearest bathroom? I totally don't have to barf."

"OF COURSE. UP THE STAIR, THREE ROOMS FROM THE COCAINE ROOM. IF YOU REACH THE BALLROOM, YOU WENT TO FAR. AND BELIEVE ME, YOU WON'T WANT TO ENTER THE BALLROOM."

I catch Brayden shivering for a second. I do now want to get into the ballroom.

"Stay strong, brother," says Hayden, knowing full well what was about to happen.

But not even I could know what was waiting for me. Because it hasn't happened yet. This is a first person present story, after all.

I reach the endless hallway, reading the different plaques while trying to keep my shit together. I think I have IBS. I pass the ballroom, from which soft moanings came from, past the T.B room, which I thought was a mistake until the sound of heavy coughing made me flee, and even the Bathroom, which is a room with a single bath. Not to be confused with the Bat room, which I don't want to talk about right now. It fills me with vengeance. But I finally reached the bathroom.

And it's closed. Great.

"Ocupado," says a voice from inside, which I think is French for "I'm fucking shidding here." Jealous.

"Do you need to use the bathroom?" says a familiar voice. And yet, completely different. I can't put my finger on it, but it's more... bold.

I turn around to see Brayden? What? What's he doing here? And with Jungkook and Harry as well. Wait, are they Jungkook and Harry? They look exactly the same as them, but with mustaches.

Brayden looks different. He looks even more smug than usual, and taller, if by an inch. And is that eyeliner? Where did he have time to do that?

"Yeah? I just told you that during lunch?" I say.

"Yes. True. Well, why don't you use the one in my bathroom... kitten?" he says, darkly and seductively, like a big cobra. I feel like I need an adult, but I need a toilet more than anything.

Also, Kitten? What's that about?