MAFIA'S DIRTY SECRET (MXM)

2

LIAM (present time - 21 years old - 2 years later)

"LIAM!" An unknown voice woke me up from my endless dreams.

"WAKE UP!" Once again that voice called me out of my dreams, not allowing me to fall back to sleep.

"YOU WILL BE LATE FOR WORK!" I immediately opened my eyes, and jumped out of bed almost stumbling over my tangled sheets. 

The word 'work' has traumatized me over the past weeks, and not because of my job since I quite enjoyed it. But instead at the sight of someone waking me up almost each morning that had traumatized me. 

"WHY DIDN'T YOU WAKE ME UP SOONER!" I shouted as my eyes were probably red due to me rubbing them over and over again, trying to make out what was in front of me. 

At least i knew that my childhood friend, now bestfriend Raphael was alive.

"I was about to." He told me trying to hold in his laughter. As i saw him standing infront of me holding a FRYING PAN?! in the air like a baseball bat. 

Was he really about to hit me with it? like that one time when he couldn't wake me up so he brought home a freaking snake, and placed it on my bed then the entire time i was thinking i had cuddled up with my pillow but it was THE SNAKE.

But he thought it was well-deserved since i had replaced his toothpaste with black teeth colouring that lasted for a week, and he couldn't go anywhere or else he would scare away all his hook-ups. 

Even when he had a group video call, he only smiled and nodded without saying a word which was unlike him so everyone wondered if someone was giving him head because he tends to get quite sexually creative. 

I guess he hasn't forgiven me for ruining his good reputation.

We have had this prank thing as a part of our tradition, to see which one can prank the other better. He's leading so far because he wakes up so damn early while I love sleeping in most of the time.

"Not again." I muttered under my breath. This bastard is fucking crazy, i swear to god. 

He always carries that fucking frying pan everywhere, and anywhere with him. I don't blame him either because we live in a chaotic world. 

But like come on, none knows how many times he has hit someone with it, maybe even murdered someone.

The frying pan was one of his favorite pranks. Sometimes smacking me in the head with it, not hard enough to hurt me but enough to wake me up screaming since both of us have trauma baggage. So we suffer together. 

He placed the frying pan down onto my desk. He ran his tanned fingers through his short black hair then stared at me with his onyx colored eyes that felt like staring into an abyss. 

When i tell people i have a best friend, they usually think he's tall, and has a little muscles like I do but that's far from reality because we look the opposite of each other, both in style and looks. 

He's more on the bulky side, with his six pack and well-trained biceps. That's because he tends to go to the gym, or wake up at 5 in the morning to run around our city park. 

While I'm not slim, I'm not bulky either. I'm in the middle so basically I have a little muscle on me because sometimes he manages to drag me to the gym with him.

When it comes to our style, he's all about leather jackets, white shirts, and either dark ripped pants or unripped pants. 

Yes, he has the typical bad boy look which suits him amazingly well to the point when I try to make new friends they go crazy the moment I show a picture of him.