Zan tugged on his earring nervously, the small jolts of ripping pain more than enough to stave off the terrifying realisation that yes, he would be joining the mafia and yes, [i]he was a candidate for leadership[/i]. How did something like that even happen? He knew he had the so-called 'family connections' to it, his parents had presumably died in service to the Moreno family and his grandmother was a friend of the leader herself; however, one needed only to look at his school records to see he was unsuitable.

Then again... he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. If someone out there thought he was strong enough to head such an organisation in the future, who was he to disagree?

Zan followed the younger boy whose name [i]might[/i] have been Carlisle, though mishearing it was possible. He didn't seem very friendly, but the taller boy had seen people like that in the past – sometimes good people, beneath that prickly exterior. In the hall, he immediately noticed his own grandmother who was frantically mouthing, [i]'Tie, straighten your tie!'[/i] while drawing a line threateningly across her throat with one finger. He gulped, even if she was only mocking, and did so.

"Nonna," he greeted, bowing his head slightly before both the Drago matriarch and Brenda Moreno in that order. Family first, that was the priority. A gentle, easy-going smile curved across his face, as always.