"So let's get into what we're here for," the Boss said, his voice booming through the room like a drumbeat, echoing off the walls and ceiling. He clapped his hands together, and suddenly the servers came rushing in, placing a vast array of dishes on the table with a flourish. The sight of the food was mesmerizing, a true feast for the eyes as well as the stomach. There were steaks, roasted to perfection and glistening with juice, roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, and so much more. It was like a banquet fit for kings, a spread that would make even the most discerning gourmet proud.
"Enjoy yourself, boys," the Boss said, his smile wide and inviting, his eyes twinkling with warmth. "This is your official welcome party into the family. You might want to make this experience memorable, because this is possibly the last time you're eating with an open heart and open mind."
The room fell silent, and all eyes were fixed on the Boss, hanging on his every word. Liam and Michael, however, didn't seem moved by his words. They were already digging into their food, their faces expressionless, their eyes fixed on their plates. They were like two men on a mission, their sole focus on consuming as much food as possible.
"Yes, you heard me right, boys," the Boss continued, his smile still plastered on his face, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "This is the last meal you're eating with an open heart and open mind. In the next one or two meals, one or two of you might be trying to eliminate each other, one way or another."
The room was silent, and I could feel the tension building up, like a storm cloud gathering on the horizon. The Boss's words were like a cold slap in the face, a wake-up call that left me reeling. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, couldn't believe that this was what I had gotten myself into.
"So, after now, I advise you to watch your backs," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement, his voice dripping with malice. "Because, in this family, only the strongest survive. And I'm not just talking about physical strength, I'm talking about mental toughness, cunning, and ruthlessness."
I felt a shiver run down my spine as I looked around the table, my eyes meeting the gaze of the other boys. Liam and Michael were still eating, but their eyes were now fixed on the Boss, their expressions unreadable. Myers and Phillips looked like they were about to cry, their eyes wide with fear, their faces pale.
"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice shaking slightly, my heart pounding in my chest.
The Boss leaned back in his chair, his smile still wide, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, I think you'll figure it out soon enough," he said. "Let's just say that, in this family, we have a tradition of...competition. And only the strongest make it to the top."
The room was silent, and I could feel the fear building up inside me, like a fire raging out of control. What had I gotten myself into? What kind of family was this, where only the strongest survived?
The Boss waited for us to eat at least a few more full spoons before speaking again, his eyes scanning the table to ensure we were all savoring the meal. He seemed to be enjoying the tension in the air, his smile growing wider with each passing moment. Then, he cleared his throat and began to speak in a tone that sent shivers down my spine.
"Let me make this clearer, y'all are now officially my family," he said, his voice dripping with an air of finality. "But none of you are friends, unless you wish to get betrayed. Remember, an enemy can never betray you, only a friend does." He paused, letting his words sink in. "In this family, loyalty is a luxury we can't afford. You'll learn to trust no one, to rely only on yourselves."
I felt a chill run down my spine as I processed his words. What kind of family was this, where friendship was seen as a liability? Where loyalty was a weakness?
"None of you are yet leading in the ranking for the favorite son," he continued, his eyes glinting with amusement. "But after every week, the list would be refreshed based on the points earned by each of you. Each week, I'll get to know my favorite son, and those who are going to be the black sheep of the family." He smiled, seeming to relish the thought. "And trust me, boys, you want to be my favorite son. You want to be the one I'm watching, the one I'm guiding."
I looked around the table, seeing the fear and uncertainty etched on the faces of my fellow "family" members. What kind of points system was this? And what did it mean to be the favorite son? What kind of benefits came with it? And what kind of consequences came with being the black sheep?
"You all have your guardians to guide you," the Boss said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But don't think for a second that they'll protect you. They're here to push you, to test you, to make you stronger." He leaned forward, his eyes glinting with intensity. "Always think ten steps ahead, because one step ahead is never enough, boys. In this family, you need to be constantly on your toes, anticipating the next move."
I turned to Brock, who was standing behind me, his eyes fixed on some point ahead. "Brock, what does he mean?" I whispered, but he didn't respond. He just kept staring ahead, his expression unreadable.
The Boss stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "I'll now leave you for your lunch," he said, his smile wide and menacing. "And have a good life, boys. May the strongest survive." He turned and walked out of the dining room, leaving us in an uncomfortable silence.
I turned back to Brock, who was still standing on alert, his eyes fixed on the door. "Brock, what's going on?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "What does he mean by all this?"
But he still didn't respond, his expression unreadable. I was starting to feel like I was in a nightmare, with no way out.