Young Writers Society

Harmony woke up when the telephone on the bedside table rang. He wasn’t sure how many people had the number for this apartment, but he’d taken enough risks already, so what was one more?
“Hello, Harmony? It’s Bruce. Did you sleep well?” The handsome voice inquired as Harmony answered.
“Better than in years! I can’t thank you enough for renting this apartment for me!” Harmony was genuinely grateful as he sat upright on the bed, answering Bruce’s question.
A chuckle, then a sigh came through the phone. “Anything for my junior car-runner. Listen, I know you have a scheduled music lesson for noon today, but I’d like you to have something nice to wear.”
Harmony was instantly self-conscious of his old clothes and blushed even though he knew Bruce couldn’t see him. “What did you have in mind?”
“I’ll be over at the apartments in about thirty minutes. Take some time to get ready, then we’ll go shopping and have lunch before your appointment. Don’t worry about money, it’s all on me.”
With a click, the other end was hung up, and Harmony almost dropped the receiver in shock. Not only had Bruce given him a place to sleep, he was now going to buy him new clothes and a decent meal! Was there no end to his generosity? Harmony jumped up out of bed and hastened to take his first shower in almost two weeks. After he was done indulging in far more warm water and soap than necessary, he continued preparing himself for his morning outing. Once he was dressed, he grabbed his keys and ran down to the lobby to wait for his ride.
Bruce arrived soon; wearing the same suit he had been the previous day. He greeted Harmony with a firm and enthusiastic handshake, and the two were off on their activities. Bruce bought a nice platinum-gray suit jacket, with a black-and-silver tie to match, as well as several good shirts and pants for Harmony. After a successful morning of shopping, and a lunch eaten near Central Park which felt to Harmony like a four star dining experience, he dropped the boy back off at his apartment so he could get ready for his music lesson that afternoon.
*****

Every few days, Bruce would take Harmony out for lunch and a drive around Manhattan, and the two would share stories and laughs and memories of their own lives. Harmony was fascinated to learn that Bruce had graduated at the top of his high school class, and even went to college for two years. Bruce said that it wasn’t for him, and decided to go right into the career world. Although he never revealed exactly just what it was he did. Bruce began to pay Harmony with money, which he used for clothes, leasing a larger apartment, and spending afternoons out in the city.
Aside from the outings, Harmony spent five afternoons a week with his music teacher, Jonathan Black, learning how to play the alto saxophone. Harmony liked him very much; he was lighthearted, comical, and knew very well how to teach his craft. He’d been more than generous as to provide Harmony with his own instrument and case, but Harmony had outgrown the book of beginner music and begun writing his own pieces. John often invited his student to concert halls and jazz clubs where they could listen to live musical and song performances. Harmony always felt important and proud buying tickets to concerts, as he could now afford them himself.
"You're a real prodigy, you know?" John said to Harmony one day after he finished playing an advanced saxophone part from a jazz band piece. "Pretty soon you'll be getting invites to perform places yourself!"
"Oh please John, you're a much better musician. Plus you have experience with performing, so you're probably the better choice." Harmony was proud of the compliment, but not so proud as to praise himself.
"Ah, if only you could write music as easily as you wrote compliments," John joked. "Now get back to those scales, let's hear them a little faster this time."
Bruce called in with a favor every ten days or so. Harmony was always excited when the phone rang and Bruce wanted a car delivered, or a package picked up and brought to him, or something of that nature. Whenever he brought the car or the package or the information, Bruce would always hand him his money with the smile a proud father would wear and clap him on the shoulder with a jovial "well done Harmony, good man." Harmony's chest would swell with gratitude and pride whenever he heard those beloved words. It didn't matter that Bruce always told him never to open the packages, or to never be pulled over in the cars. Harmony was glad to finally be important to someone, to finally have someone looking out for him. Bruce had brought him from nothing to everything in just a few short weeks. It wouldn't matter if he asked him to steal a car, Harmony loved Bruce like a father, and he would do anything for him.
And that was the way it went for two years; the final childhood years flying by him, filled with joy and jazz. It was in his 18th year that Harmony finally realized the riches he now possessed were as filthy as the rags he left behind.

*****

For whatever reason, Harmony didn’t want Bruce to call today, on this gray-skied Saturday, May 21st. Maybe it was because he was tired from finally moving into his new apartment in the past few days. It could be that he was in the middle of trying to finish the music piece he’d begun writing in Central Park last weekend. Or maybe even that he just didn’t feel like putting on a suit today. Such fortune wasn’t with him today, because as he was cleaning the horn of his saxophone, the ringing bell of the telephone disrupted his humming.
Harmony sighed, as he was expecting another call from Bruce with the weekly task. But the voice he heard on the other end sounded urgent, almost panicked, and definitely not like his calm and composed benefactor. It was also higher pitched, with the slightest hint of an Italian accent.
“Hey, you’re Bruce’s kid, right?” The unidentified caller asked in almost one hastily spent breath.
“Who’s asking?” Harmony retorted, not hostile but assertive in his tone, as Bruce had always taught him to be when he was confronted with such questions.
“A friend of his. He wanted me to ask you if we could spend the afternoon at your place today.” The man seemed a little irritated at being questioned, but he kept whatever composure he was maintaining.
“Is he there with you? Can I hear from him?” Harmony asked, taking a little more control of the conversation.
“Look, kid, I’m tellin’ you the truth. Just let us in when we get there, come on!” He was quite irritated now, and obviously losing his patience. That meant he was more likely to agree with any proposal just to get to an end.
Harmony had learned from the short exchange that the man obviously knew where his apartment was located, and he knew which resident of the building to contact in the first place; those were both things that Bruce would only have told to a close contact. But still, Bruce had always taught him to be skeptical and not quick to trust anyone he didn’t know.
“If you’re a friend of Bruce, I want to hear him. You said he’s brining you right? Let him talk to me. Then I’ll have the door open for you when you come.” Harmony laid out his conditions calmly and without losing his temper.
“Son of a-” the man attempted to stay calm. “Fine then, I’ll put him on when he gets over here.” It sounded like he was so relieved to be off the phone that the click of hanging up couldn’t come fast enough.
Harmony waited patiently at his desk with both arms crossed, facing the door where it was in full view. There was no illusion that there would be no call from Bruce today. His right hand rested on the inner pocket of his suit jacket, on top of the pistol that Bruce had given him for dire situations. He hoped that it wouldn’t see any action today, but it never hurt to be careful.
Before long, there was a click of a key turning in a latch, and the door began to open. Instantly, Harmony was on his feet, and his handgun made another click as he cocked it and held it ready to fire.
“Put that weapon down, boy!” Bruce said jokingly, as he entered the apartment with another man behind him. “You could hurt someone!”
Harmony immediately relaxed and returned the pistol to his desk drawer. He shook Bruce’s hand, and the hand of the man who was with him. It was the same man he had received a black Dodge from at an Irish bar two years ago. He was clothed in the same green suit as well, but no hat; his short black hair was neatly combed and sat on his head as a perfect frame.
“How are you, Bruce? I had a call from some spook who said he was a friend of yours and wanted to stay here,” Harmony explained, clearing the papers and pencils off of his desk to make it neater.
“Guilty as charged,” the second man said, waving his hand jokingly.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t believe you two ever were formally introduced!” Bruce seemed shocked that no greeting had ever taken place between his two companions. “Harmony, this is my associate Virgil Baraccio. Virgil, this is Harmony Holmes. He is my personal protégé.”
Harmony nodded to Virgil and offered both of them a seat on the couch while he retrieved three glasses of water from the kitchen. As they all sat down, Bruce began to explain just what had happened.
“Sorry about that call probably freaking you out,” Virgil apologized, sipping from his glass. “But we had to test you.”
Harmony leaned forward from his armchair, instantly curious. “What sort of test?”
“To see how well you learned. And if we could trust you to not trust anyone else,” Bruce explained, reclining on the couch. “You did very well. Seems like you really did learn a thing or two from me.”
“And just what brought all this about?”
“Harmony, you’ve been the ideal worker for the past two years. You always trusted me and never asked questions. Virgil and I resolved to tell you just what it was you’d been doing when you were eighteen, and could make your own decisions.” Bruce wasn’t his usual jovial, smiling self as he explained. He mouth was even and firm, and his eyes were set in the most serious focus.
Harmony was a bit unsettled, but also intrigued by this sudden reveal from his most beloved employer and guardian. “Well, let’s have it then. What did you come to tell me?”
“Bruce and I aren’t free agents, kid. We’re employed by a higher power.” Virgil leaned forward as he said this, stroking his sandpaper stubble with an antsy hand. “A much higher power.”
Before Harmony could ask what he meant, Bruce picked up at the end of the sentence. “We have our allegiances with a very . . . influential family here in New York, and in several surrounding states; their name is Rotunno, and only very powerful people carry that mantle.”
“You’ve been helping Bruce do work for them,” Virgil added. “The cars, the packages, the stakeouts, everything for the past two years.”
Harmony leaned back and exhaled as he thought about what Bruce had just told him. Everything Bruce had had him do was for someone else. Well, it did make sense in one aspect. Why wouldn’t Bruce just hire a professional to do the work for him unless he wasn’t a businessman? So he was working for someone even higher on the food chain then. Who was this Rotunno family?
“They do business in all sorts of things; they’re into buying and selling contraband, consultations, and practical assistance, to name a few. And they have a lot of contacts and connections for miles around,” Virgil explained, almost reading Harmony’s mind to the letter.
“They wouldn’t happen to be involved in these . . . mob groups, would they? Harmony asked, in hope to squash the sneaking suspicion arising in the back of his head.
To his dismay, both Bruce and Virgil broke eye contact with him and looked uneasily off to opposite sides of the room. “We prefer to think of it as . . .” Bruce started to say.
“A more liberal form of business, you know?” Virgil finished the sentence sounding much more sure of himself than his associate.
Harmony went from a recline position to a slump, throwing back his head. So he’d been helping all this time with shady, probably illegitimate mob business. Strangely, he didn’t feel necessarily bad or upset, like he thought he should; he only felt surprise, and a fiery burn in his chest realizing just what it was he agreed to on that park bench a long time ago.
“Harmony, we didn’t just come to tell you our business. We came to offer you another choice.” Bruce took another drink from his glass of water, emptying it.
Harmony perked up again and raised an eyebrow. Despite still feeling a flush of hot guilt at what he’d committed himself to, he was interested in hearing the proposition. “What sort of choice?”
Bruce’s eyes refocused on Harmony, and every bit of his gaze was coldly serious. “You’ve been working for me for some time now, and you’ve seen the rewards it brings. The powers that be have offered you an invitation. If you agree to come into the full business with Virgil and I, the money, the freedom, your music career, and this life you have can all become everything you’ll ever ask for.”
“And if I refuse . . .?”
“Then we’ll leave the building, and you never have to hear from me again if you so desire,” Bruce said. Harmony could tell from the way his gaze fell to the floor that this wasn’t what Bruce wanted him to choose.
Everything he could ever ask for, if he would accept Bruce and Virgil and the Rotunno family as his guardians and employers. Harmony knew that wasn’t something he could outright turn away from, but they were the mob; Harmony had heard stories of their below-the-counter business. They bought illegal goods and services; they bribed and blackmailed and kept their fingers in every high place; they killed people they didn’t like! This sure wasn’t something that had ever appealed to Harmony before. But something his birth-father once said years ago returned to his memory: a soldier with no flag is a casualty no army will claim. He remembered all that Bruce had done for him, and how much he wanted to repay it. He needed fellowship, a group to stand with, a family who accepted him and wanted him around. Bruce had already been like a father to him, so maybe it was time to meet the in-laws.
Harmony smiled and extended his arm with firm finality. Bruce returned the smile, and shook his protégé’s hand for the first time as a true business partner. “Welcome to the family, son.”

MUST...READ...MORE!!!!! Your writing style is fluid and beautiful and I've been sucked into this. One issue is the fact that Harmony is aa girls' name and I find it difficult to take him as a strong male character with a name like Harmony. But keep me posted on updates

Harmony woke up when the telephone on the bedside table rang. He wasn’t sure how many people had the number for this apartment, but he’d taken enough risks already, so what was one more?
“Hello, Harmony? It’s Bruce. Did you sleep well?” The handsome voice inquired as Harmony answered.
“Better than in years! I can’t thank you enough for renting this apartment for me!” Harmony was genuinely grateful as he sat upright on the bed, answering Bruce’s question.
A chuckle, then a sigh came through the phone. “Anything for my junior car-runner. Listen, I know you have a scheduled music lesson for noon today, butand I’d like you to have something nice to wear.”
Harmony was instantly self-conscious of his old clothes and blushed even though he knew Bruce couldn’t see him. “What did you have in mind?”
“I’ll be over at the apartments in about thirty minutes. Take some time to get ready, then we’ll go shopping and have lunch before your appointment. Don’t worry about money, it’s all on me.”
With a click, the other end was hung up, and Harmony almost dropped the receiver in shock. Not only had Bruce given him a place to sleep, he was now going to buy him new clothes and a decent meal! Was there no end to his generosity? Harmony jumped up out of bed and hastened to shower and prepare himself for his morning outing. Once he was dressed, he grabbed his keys and ran down to the lobby to wait for his ride. this has got to be the first or second time the boy’s showered in a month. Being homeless, I don’t think he would ‘hasten’ to shower, but enjoy every second of it.
Bruce arrived soon; wearing the same suit he had been the previous day. He greeted Harmony with a firm and enthusiastic handshake, and the two were off on their activities. Bruce bought a nice platinum-gray suit jacket, with a black-and-silver tie to match, as well as several good shirts and pants for Harmony. After a successful morning of shopping, and a nice lunch eaten near Central Park though it was the equivalent of a five star restaurant to Harmony, right? , he dropped the boy back off at his apartment so he could get ready for his music lesson that afternoon.
*****
And so that was the way it went for two years woah woah woah woah woah. What just happened? So Bruce drops him off to prepare for his first music lesson, and then TWO YEARS LATER… . Every few days, Bruce would take Harmony out for lunch and a drive around Manhattan, and the two would share stories and laughs and memories of their own lives. Harmony was fascinated to learn that Bruce had graduated at the top of his high school class, and even went to college for two years. Bruce said that it wasn’t for him, and decided to go right into the career world. Although he never revealed exactly just what it was he did.
Aside from the outings, Harmony spent five afternoons a week with his music teacher, Jonathan Black, learning how to play the alto saxophone. Harmony liked him very much; he was lighthearted, comical, and knew very well how to teach his craft. He’d been so kind as to provide Harmony with his own instrument and case, but Harmony had outgrown the book of beginner music and begun writing his own pieces. I think ‘kind’ is too light of a term to describe someone buying you an instrument. Those things cost lots of money!
On the weekends, when he couldn’t work with John, Harmony would practice on his own, writing songs and jazzing up the bland gray carpet atmosphere of his small apartment. He loved music so much that he would often fall asleep at night at his desk, in the middle of arranging notes on a score, always pressing himself for five more minutes because he “finally had the jazz in his head.”
Every 10 ten days or so, Bruce would call in again with another favor request. Either it was moving a car which Bruce said never to get pulled over in, delivering a package which Bruce was adamant to never open or give to anyone other than the receiver, or as simple as waiting somewhere and looking for a person. In return for his services, Bruce began to pay Harmony with money, which he used to buy new clothes, spend time out in the city, and eventually lease a larger apartment now that he was old enough to do it himself.
And so the final childhood years flew by him, filled with joy and jazz. It was in his 18th year that Harmony finally realized the riches he now possessed were as filthy as the rags he left behind. I like this last sentence x)
*****
For whatever reason, Harmony didn’t want Bruce to call today, on this gray-skied Saturday, May 21st. Maybe it was because he was tired from finally moving into his new apartment in the past few days. It could be that he was in the middle of trying to finish the music piece he’d begun writing in Central Park last weekend. Or maybe even that he just didn’t feel like putting on a suit today. Such fortune wasn’t with him today, because as he was cleaning the horn of his saxophone, the ringing bell of the telephone disrupted his humming.
Harmony sighed, as he was expecting another call from Bruce with the weekly task. But the voice he heard on the other end sounded urgent, almost panicked, and definitely not like his calm and composed benefactor. It was also higher pitched, with the slightest hint of an Italian accent.
“Hey, you’re Bruce’s kid, right?” The unidentified caller asked in almost one hastily spent breath.
“Who’s asking?” Harmony retorted, not hostile but assertive in his tone, as Bruce had always taught him to be when he was confronted with such questions.
“A friend of his. He wanted me to ask you if we could spend the afternoon at your place today.” The man seemed a little irritated at being questioned, but he kept whatever composure he was maintaining.
“Is he there with you? Can I hear from him?” Harmony asked, taking a little more control of the conversation.
“Look, kid, I’m tellin’ you the truth. Just let us in when we get there, come on!” He was quite irritated now, and obviously losing his patience. That meant he was more likely to agree with any proposal just to get to an end.
Harmony had learned from the short exchange that the man obviously knew where his apartment was located, and he knew which resident of the building to contact in the first place; those were both things that Bruce would only have told to a close contact. But still, Bruce had always taught him to be skeptical and not quick to trust anyone he didn’t know.
“If you’re a friend of Bruce, I want to hear him. You said he’s brining bringing you right? Let him talk to me. Then I’ll have the door open for you when you come.” Harmony laid out his conditions calmly and without losing his temper.
“Son of a-” the man attempted to stay calm. “Fine then, I’ll put him on when he gets over here.” It sounded like he was so relieved to be off the phone that the click of hanging up couldn’t come fast enough.
Harmony waited patiently at his desk with both arms crossed, facing the door where it was in full view. There was no illusion that there would be no call from Bruce today. His right hand rested on the inner pocket of his suit jacket, on top of the pistol that Bruce had given him for dire situations. He knew that it probably wouldn’t see any action today, but it never hurt to be careful.
Before long, there was a click of a key turning in a latch, and the door began to open. Instantly, Harmony was on his feet, and his handgun made another click as he cocked it and held it ready to fire.
“Put that weapon down, boy!” Bruce said jokingly, as he entered the apartment with another man behind him. “You could hurt someone!”
Harmony immediately relaxed and returned the pistol to his desk drawer. He shook Bruce’s hand, and the hand of the man who was with him. It was the same man he had received a black Dodge from at an Irish bar two years ago. He was clothed in the same green suit as well, but no hat; his short black hair was neatly combed and sat on his head as a perfect frame.
“How are you, Bruce? I had a call from some spook who said he was a friend of yours and wanted to stay here,” Harmony explained, clearing the papers and pencils off of his desk to make it neater.
“Guilty as charged,” the second man said, waving his hand jokingly.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t believe you two ever were formally introduced!” Bruce seemed shocked that no greeting had ever taken place between his two companions. “Harmony, this is my associate Virgil Baraccio. Virgil, this is Harmony Holmes. He is my personal protégé.”
Harmony nodded to Virgil and offered both of them a seat on the couch while he retrieved three glasses of water from the kitchen. As they all sat down, Bruce began to explain just what had happened.
“Sorry about that call probably freaking you out,” Virgil apologized, sipping from his glass. “But we had to test you.”
Harmony leaned forward from his armchair, instantly curious. “What sort of test?”
“To see how well you learned. And if we could trust you to not trust anyone else,” Bruce explained, reclining on the couch. “You did very well. Seems like you really did learn a thing or two from me.”
“And just what brought all this about?”
“Harmony, you’ve been the ideal worker for the past two years. You always trusted me and never asked questions. Virgil and I resolved to tell you just what it was you’d been doing when you were eighteen, and could make your own decisions.” Bruce wasn’t his usual jovial, smiling self as he explained. He mouth was even and firm, and his eyes were set in the most serious focus.
Harmony was a bit unsettled, but also intrigued by this sudden reveal from his most beloved employer and guardian. “Well, let’s have it then. What did you come to tell me?”
“Bruce and I aren’t free agents, kid. We’re employed by a higher power.” Virgil leaned forward as he said this, stroking his sandpaper stubble with an antsy hand. “A much higher power.”
Before Harmony could ask what he meant, Bruce picked up at the end of the sentence. “We have our allegiances with a very . . . influential family here in New York, and in several surrounding states; their name is Rotunno, and only very powerful people carry that mantle.”
“You’ve been helping Bruce do work for them,” Virgil added. “The cars, the packages, the stakeouts, everything for the past two years.”
Harmony leaned back and exhaled as he thought about what Bruce had just told him. Everything Brucehadhad him do was for someone else. Well, it did make sense in one aspect. Why wouldn’t Bruce just hire a professional to do the work for him unless he wasn’t a businessman? So he was working for someone even higher on the food chain then. Who was this Rotunno family?
“They do business in all sorts of things; they’re into buying and selling contraband, consultations, and practical assistance, to name a few. And they have a lot of contacts and connections for miles around,” Virgil explained, almost reading Harmony’s mind to the letter.
“They wouldn’t happen to be involved in these . . . mob groups, would they? Harmony asked, in hope to squash the sneaking suspicion arising in the back of his head.
To his dismay, both Bruce and Virgil broke eye contact with him and looked uneasily off to opposite sides of the room. “We prefer to think of it as . . .” Bruce started to say.
“A more liberal form of business, you know?” Virgil finished the sentence sounding much more sure of himself than his associate.
Harmony went from a recline position to a slump, throwing back his head. So he’d been helping all this time with shady, probably illegitimate mob business. Strangely, he didn’t feel necessarily bad or upset, like he thought he should; he only felt surprise, and a fiery burn in his chest realizing just what it was he agreed to on that park bench a long time ago.
“Harmony, we didn’t just come to tell you our business. We came to offer you another choice.” Bruce took another drink from his glass of water, emptying it.
Harmony perked up again and raised an eyebrow. Despite still feeling a flush of hot guilt at what he’d committed himself to, he was interested in hearing the proposition. “What sort of choice?”
Bruce’s eyes refocused on Harmony, and every bit of his gaze was coldly serious. “You’ve been working for me for some time now, and you’ve seen the rewards it brings. The powers that be have offered you an invitation. If you agree to come into the full business with Virgil and I, the money, the freedom, your music career, and this life you have can all become everything you’ll ever ask for.”
“And if I refuse . . .?”
“Then we’ll leave the building, and you never have to hear from me again if you so desire,” Bruce said. Harmony could tell from the way his gaze fell to the floor that this wasn’t what Bruce wanted him to choose.
Everything he could ever ask for, if he would accept Bruce and Virgil and the Rotunno family as his guardians and employers. Harmony knew that wasn’t something he could outright turn away from, but they were the mob; Harmony had heard stories of their below-the-counter business. They bought illegal goods and services, they bribed and blackmailed and kept their fingers in every high place, they killed people they didn’t like! This sure wasn’t something that had ever appealed to Harmony before. But something his father once said years ago returned to his memory: a soldier with no flag is a casualty no army will claim. He needed fellowship, a group to stand with, a family who accepted him and wanted him around. Bruce had already been like a father to him, so maybe it was time to meet the in-laws.
Harmony smiled and extended his arm with firm finality. Bruce returned the smile, and shook his protégé’s hand for the first time as a true business partner. “Welcome to the family, son.”

Overall, this is still very good! I really like the whole ‘being a part of the mob business’ idea. I’ve never read a story like this before.

The part the bugged me the most was when you suddenly fast forwarded two years, but now that I’m at the end of the chapter, it seems to have fit and I’m not nearly so irked by it x) However, I have to say that the sixteen year old innocent Harmony from part one seems exactly like the adult, more experienced Harmony from the second part. I thought I would get a sense of maturity coming from him, but there wasn’t any difference. Just the fact that he accepted this life changing decision in less than a minute shows that he’s not thinking things through, like any adult would. And the fact that he hadn’t questioned Bruce’s motives once in this two years makes me wonder. To me, it’s just like what a child would do, accepting the candy and not thinking of the consequences.

I really wish I could get a feel of what his life was like in these missing two years, because he had to have changed a lot!

Also, what happened to his parents? Sure, they were never around, but still he was underage and they must’ve been wondering what happened to him. I can’t really imagine his mother totally forgetting about him.

So I hope this helped! I can’t wait to read more from you x) Let me know of any questions you have!

this was pretty well done but there were a few instances that bugged me. granted, almost all of them are probably justifiable because of plot constraints, and other complications, but if any of them are fixable, it might help the story flow more. while I did like the second half of this chapter, the first half seemed somewhat rushed, and the jump from one week later to two years later surprised me. I don't know how important the music teacher is as a charecter, but I feel like I was never formally intruduced to him, and I ended up having to picture him as just a jazzy type guy, which isn't really specific. once agian, both of those points are kind of moot if you did this because the events that felt rushed were irrelevant, or if the music teacher was unimportant as a charecter, but something about the summary paragraphs got to me.
on the other hand, the second half of the chapter was very well done, with excellent dialogue that felt real and genuine, as well as good charecter develoment, and mood. I don't really know much about the itallian guy, but I like him already, and with more charecters like that I look forward to reading more, now that Harmony has decided to join the mob.

as for small things, I especially sentence where he said it was time to meet the inlaws, and wondered if you intended that to be a play on words with the term outlaw... feel free to take full credit. there was a small typo that confused me, in the sentence that read "They bought illegal goods and services, they bribed and blackmailed and kept their fingers in every high place, they killed people they didn’t like!" it seemed here that you probably wanted a semicolon after the word place, and and "even" before the word "killed". either go with the semicolon, or lose the exlamation point, because it seems awkward the way it is.

certainly a good read, I look forward to reviewing further chapters. your friend,

---Psudiname