After that interaction, Kyle and Julian only spoke to tease each other. They didn't make an effort to become friends, and for most of the time they minded their own business.

They ended up having two more classes together, in which they sat at opposite ends of the classroom.

But, in their World History one day, something clicked for them. They surprisingly started talking. And how? One word. Translation.

It was February 8th, 2003. Kyle was preparing his notebook and such for his notes, as Julian entered, followed by the Vice Principal. "Ms. Montgomery." The administrator would speak, trying to get her attention from teaching.

Our teacher would look up from the board, awaiting his message. Instead, he motioned her outside of the classroom, and gave Julian a less-than-nice push into the room fully.

His face was filled with clear anger and frustration. The sound of his stomping to his seat through the oddly quiet classroom rang in the concrete walls. The students, including Kyle watched the ideal as he slumped into his desk.

"Stupida cagna. Non ho nemmeno fatto niente cazzo." He speaks under his breath, his head dipped towards his lap. *[Stupid Bitch. I didn't even fucking do anything]*

"Sì, è una stronza. Tutti la mettono su un piedistallo, quando ha intenzionalmente dei bambini come noi nei guai." Kyle buts in with a lowered tone. *[Yes, she is a fucking bitch. Everyone puts her on the pedestal when really she purposely gets kids like us in trouble.]*

**

Julian would look quite confused, and was clearly surprised that he had understood what he had said. "You speak-"

"Italian? Yes." Kyle nods in agreement. "As well as Spanish, French, and I'm working on Chinese."

"Huh." Julian sounds. "So you've taught yourself?" He questions, sitting up a tad.

"Nah, my dad hired some people when I was younger to teach me." Kyle answers simply. "He says that knowing other languages is a good business model."

"Business?" Julian asks, furrowing his eyebrows. "I didn't know you owned one."

"Well, I don't, but my father does." Kyle's head nods, followed with a shrug.

"Ah," Julian sounds. "What does he do?" He would shift into a more comfortable position on his seat, resting his elbows on the surface of the desk itself.

"Insurance." Kyle speaks almost robotically. His father had drilled the answer into his head at a young age, not wanting him to blow their whole cover.

Julian nods his head at that, looking forward for a moment. "You think he'd give me a job?" He questions. "My dad's being a lazy ass and won't get one himself."

Kyle takes a deep breath, not knowing what to tell him. "I could ask... Though it isn't a normal insurance agency... many late nights to look forward to."

Julian shrugs lightly. "I don't care, nothing I can't handle. Back in Venice, I worked all through the night, and barely even went to school."

"I'll get back to you tomorrow about it." Kyle sighs. He felt bad about potentially pulling him into the mafia life, but they do need more men. A good amount of them died while retrieving a gun shipment a month back.

To be honest, Julian looked quite sketchy anyway. He looked like he wasn't afraid of a fight, which is exactly what they need.

It has been about a week since I laid out the wedding plans, and we've all come together. Of course, Owen doesn't see any reason not to, and he always keeps the conversation full of life and fun. Though Kyle and I don't communicate- unless it is something important- we both cannot say we hate dinner.

Owen's random exclamations of things in his favorite movies, tv shows, or toys always seem to make me laugh, and it is that same for Kyle.

This week, there was not a dinner where any of us left with discomfort or a frown. Perhaps we were all getting used to each other's presence.

Nothing here is truly horrible. I mean, I wish to be back home in Florida, and I wish to be able to leave- but this could have turned out much worse. All that matters is that I am with my son, and we are in good health.

Though I cannot stand Kyle and his obnoxious ways, he's not pushing Owen to the side for his work. He is taking the time to get to know him and give him the fatherly time he's been missing.

I will say, I'm a bit jealous of them together. Of course, I get my fair share of time with Owen, but our bond is nothing like his with his father. With me, he learns things, while with his dad, he plays games and goes wild.

With our wedding this Saturday, many things are running wild in the mansion. People are bringing in and taking out things, all fast paced. It's more of a frenzy than anything.

Tailors have been in and out, working like mad, their needles flying everywhere. They have been in to fit Owen's, Kyle's and my outfits. That's probably my least favorite part of the process. Standing in a t-pose for forty-five minutes straight is not ideal.

As we are getting poked with needles, Kyle's men have been at the church, along with the hotel, putting my plans into action.

Usually, most of this process would have gone down the day before the ceremony, but Kyle's a bit or a perfectionist. He said he wanted a few days to change and check over everything, which I had no objection to.

To point out the obvious, Owen was chosen to be our little ring bearer. When I've had my time with him, I've been teaching him how to carry it without the rings falling off, which he has made great progress at.

Things are going right to plan. Surprisingly, at that. Maybe this won't all go to shit... maybe we have a real chance at happinesses on Saturday.

Let's just hope nothing happens...