Whatever It Takes

"Hey, I'm Minho." He said, coming down the kitchen stairs and walking over to the guy who was already buried busy with prepping the ingredients.

"There, start chopping." The guy said without looking up, pointing over to the stack of celery on another kitchen table with his knife.

Swallowing thickly, Minho nodded and headed over to the said table. He was just trying to make conversation, but it seemed like everyone who found his way into the hands of these goons obviously enough of their troubles to deal with, and didn't fancy interactions with strangers being overly friendly.

The other guy rounded the table, glaring at Minho as he picked another stack of vegetables and then headed back to his initial spot. He had been kept long enough that he'd grown to dislike strangers and had to study everyone with much keenness before he could speak to them because they could as easily be just another one of the mafia goons.