"Ah, it's all done! We can finally rest, Mom," 

I inform her while catching my breath after helping the movers with the sofa. My mom, who was arranging the knick-knacks in the other room, shouted in response, "That's great, honey! I'll be right over." 

We were finally done with everything, all the rooms are fully furnished and clean. I took a seat on the sofa, still trying to catch my breath. It's understandable that refurnishing and cleaning the house should be done as soon as possible for maximum efficiency and productivity, but damn, we got to finish all that within a day and it's still afternoon.

Looking back at everything that happened so far in this migration, it's been one hell of a day. I'll be damned if my life here in Izzaya, Haggrew City  will be as troubling as moving in. 

What kind of neighborhood name is Izzaya anyway? 

It's such a unique yet interesting name for a neighborhood that you'd think it'd gain a lot more traction nationwide for its uniqueness. Then again, there's still a lot more unique neighborhood and city names that beats Izzaya in a long shot. 

I can't blame the townspeople for thinking up this name though, maybe there's a history behind it. Like a name of a witch from the pilgrim times or something. 

Meh.

I don't really care all that much about the neighborhood's history.

Who cares about it anyway? I'm not some history geek.

All I know is,

This will be my new home from now on.

Though the neighborhood did look nice when I caught a glimpse of it.

Maybe I can give this place a shot. Maybe take a look around some other time.

For now, let me just chill and rest for a bit. The moving was quite literally,

a chore.

We had to wake up as early as 5 AM, lugging all the bags we could bring to the limousine that brought us to the hanger. 

We met that overly friendly guy that idolized Dad. 

Then when we got to the hangar, we met that quiet and formally-dressed man. 

Jeez, I didn't realized that my dad, Tony Vincenzo, had so much influence.

Frankly...

That's not the kind of man I remember him to be.

Tony Vincenzo was...

how do you say,

the most gentle person I have ever met.

He used to be someone that pleased everyone wherever he goes. He made everyone smile with his gentle heart and kindness. Even though he appeared weaker than most men his age, he still tried to protect everyone he loved and cherished. 

And my mom, Judy, and I loved him for it. 

He was our hero. 

Our gentle giant. 

He used to always play with me whenever he had the chance, 

hang out with us in the mall as much as possible, 

go on trips with us,

overall a family man. 

He used to always help anyone whenever possible, no questions asked.

.

.

.

Then he just suddenly stopped.

He became more distant. 

He became colder. 

It's like he wasn't the same person anymore.

Ever since he...

A sudden knock on the front door snapped me out of trance. 

"Huh? Where am I?" I was so deep in thought that, for a moment, I had forgotten where I was. I looked around and finally realized where I was. "Oh right, it's September 19th, we just migrated into another country." Maybe it's the jetlag, or maybe I just have a terrible habit of overthinking, but something's not right, I feel dizzy all of the sudden. 

"Stevie sweetie, can you check who it is?" I heard mom call from the kitchen.

Huh? Who what is? 

Another knock came, this time more aggressively. 

Oh right.

Damn, I must be out of it lately. 

I got up from the couch and walked out of the living room. Pretty soon I was facing the front door. Another knock came with the same aggression from the previous knock. Jeez, can this person be patient for just a sec? I'm still collecting my thoughts and the aggressive knocking doesn't help. 

I opt to look at the peephole first before unlocking the door for this stranger. We can never be too careful. Who knows? It might be a serial killer looking to find their new victims. Okay, it's in broad daylight but it's still a possibility. Just as I placed my eye onto the peephole, the person suddenly knocks aggressively again.

Bam!

I fell to the floor, having been startled by this person's knocks. "You okay, honey?" My mom worriedly takes a peep from the corner of the wall from the kitchen to check on me. 

"I'm okay." I replied.

Though my ass did take a little beating from the fall, I can just walk it off, nothing serious. 

I got back on my feet, brushed myself off, and attempted to peep at the peephole a second time. If this person startles me one more time, I swear...

Oh.

Seems to be just some guy around my age. Seems safe enough.

I unlocked a couple extra locks from my front door. 

Huh, I just now realized how suspiciously secured our house is, is this neighborhood that scary? Well, who am I to question an extra sense of security?

I opened the door, rubbing my behind from the pain of the fall. 

"Yes, what?"

The guy nervously laughs. He's holding what looks to be a box of some sorts. 

Okay, my suspicious meter is going up. 

He opens up and I can make up some of his words, but he stuttered too much. 

"Oh.. um-- haha, h-hello you! h-haha." He nervously utters. 

Is this guy okay? Should I call a hospital or something? 

This guy seems harmless, I think I can let my guard down for now.  

"You okay?" I asked him while having a confused look on my face.

"Um, I... I-I'm sorry for interrupting your time." He tries to tell me.

So far, so good, buddy. Take your time.

"It's cool, man. Take your time." I chuckle a bit to show him that I'm pretty laidback and he has nothing to be afraid of. 

"M-my name is Charles Mondt IV. I'm an 18-year-old. You and your family must be new here... if I'm not wrong." He tells me with a nervous chuckle in the end.

"Fourth?" Damn, this guy's bloodline must be cool or totally bonkers to straight-up call all their son the same name for four generations.

"Um, yeah. I go by Ford." He replies.

"Alright then, Ford. I'm Steven. You can just call me Stevie, and yes. We just moved in. I'm turning 18 in about two months, in November 13." I reply back.

"Oh, advanced happy birthday then, Stevie." He replied in return.

This is going good so far. Damn, it's nice to see someone go from shy to getting a little comfortable.

I offer my hand for a handshake. He struggles to hold the small box in one hand to give me a handshake. 

"What's in the box anyway? You seem extra careful with it." I ask Ford.

"Oh, uh-- it's actually for your family. M-my kind gesture to welcome you to Izzaya. It's a piece of caramel pie with nuts. Problem is, I only bought one slice, sorry about that, Stevie." He  chuckles nervously. 

H-hold on. 

Caramel pie...

WITH NUTS?! 

How the holy hell did this guy guess my favorite dessert?

Oh.

My.

God. 

The sweet hard caramel top that entices your taste buds in all places of your mouth. The soft and moist caramel that, when you bite, bounces softly in your mouth but dissolves in your saliva. The added texture of the peanuts on the top that gives a crispy but savory taste that compliments the caramel sweetness. 

"Uh, Stevie?"

 "Wait for me right here, Ford.. just for a second." I nervously chuckle while holding my pointer finger up. 

I immediately rushed to the kitchen to my mom, Judy, leaving the front door wide open. 

I know, I know, I should be more careful but there's no way Ford can be dangerous. 

He's feeble, shy, and most importantly, he has pie!

"Mom!" I shouted in excitement.

"Oh? Who was at the door that got you very excited all of the sudden, anak('My child' in Filipino)?" My mom asks me with a sweet and inviting smile.

"So, it's this guy from the neighborhood, he's around my age, and he brought caramel pie."

"Yeah? We can eat it later together then!" 

"It's only one slice though..." I look away.

"It's okay then, go eat it with your friend, anak." She smiles at me with that signature warm smile of hers.

I rush back to Ford outside the front door. 

"Ford, can... "

"Can?" He confusingly asks.

"Can...we 

.

.

.

eat it right now?"

He stops and laughs. After some time, he nods.

"Yes of course, that's what I intended. There's a bench just around here. Wanna do a little 'get to know each other', dude?"

"Cool, I'm down, as long as I get to eat that piece of pie."

He laughs once more. We walk towards just the outside of our front lawn and surprisingly, there was a bench right there. Huh, how come I didn't notice that? We sat down and then hands me the box of pie with a small fork. 

"So Stevie,"

I didn't pick up the fork, I just picked up the whole piece of pie and gobbled it up nicely and neatly.

"Sorry, you were saying something, Ford?"

"Yeah

.

.

.

Sorry in advanced."

"What do you mean--" 

Just then, my eyelids began to slowly drop without my intention. I couldn't open them up. For some reason,

I felt drowsy...

Sleepy...

"Ford..."

It was...

probably...

.

.

.

the pie.