The man they called Chief, or Boss, hovered in the doorway. His short frame, pudgy belly, and messy facial hair did nothing to show his true self. His fingers stroked his gray and brown beard. This was the head of one of the many minor families of the Maniaco. They were unlucky number three out of five. 

“Wow, all of you made it for a change.” Their leader glared, and he fixated on Jett. “Glad you could find time in your busy schedule to join us.”

Jett shrugged. “I can always make time for you, Boss.”

“That’s a load of crap.” He then turned toward Trace, who had yet to move from his spot on the couch. He continued to stare at his phone, oblivious. “Get off that thing and listen up, scrawny.”

Jaesung watched as Trace lowered it, eyes squinting and nose curling up. He looked like a lynx, tiny yet fierce.

“And you—“ He walked towards Feng, who had the look of someone who had just seen a ghost. His skin, already pale, lost all color. “—why the hell are you shaking?”

“I’m so sorry!” Feng bowed and apologized, prostrating himself in front of their boss. “It’s all Trace’s fault.”

“The hell, man?”

Jaesung wanted to cover his eyes from second hand embarrassment. No wonder no one in the main family took their group seriously. From the outside looking in, they were a gang of losers with no redeeming qualities. The jobs were “evenly” distributed, and they usually received the grunt work, like collecting debts and lookout duty, or shopping for the main family. One time, Jaesung got stuck buying condoms and a giant purple dildo. He regretted it, and the look on the bodyguard’s face who took the items from him only made it worse. He’d never forget that sneer. It was a stretch to believe their boss had been close to the Maniaco head back in the day.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about you, Jaesung.” Their boss approached him, paused, and then flicked his forehead.

“What the hell, Vince? That hurt!” Jaesung rubbed the spot, voice whiny. “What did I do?”

“That’s for what you’re going to do in the future.” The ‘what did you just say?’ was unsaid. Jaesung made it a habit to call him his real name when he got agitated.

The fuck is that shit? Before a sling of curse words could leave his mouth, Feng pulled him back and gave him a pleading expression.

Vince brushed past him and sat down on the island part of the couch. It dipped under his weight. He then lit up a cigarette, watching as the red and orange light trembled as he took a hit. It was time to talk business, the silence a message.

“Listen up.” He tapped the ashes on the floor. “The main family called on us to attend a meeting tomorrow. All the branch families will be there, and this time, you’re all coming with me.”