The living room was a disaster—but exactly the kind that Nicholas liked. Cables wrapped like vines around table legs, empty soda cans stacked into a leaning tower beside a half-finished VR headset mod, and three gaming chairs parked like thrones around a giant monitor wall. Nicholas Ulehla—hoodie half-zipped, socks mismatched as usual—was seated backwards in his chair, spinning slowly as he scrolled on his phone.

Blaza stood by the fridge, holding a slice of cold pizza and arguing about whether kangaroos could be domesticated. Nadwe had taken over the kitchen bench, balancing a box of cereal in one hand and trying to hack together a foam dart gun from Nicholas' pile of 3D-printed junk in the other.

"Okay," Nicholas muttered, more to himself than anyone else, "so they’re landing in like an hour. Or... ten minutes ago." He checked the time again. Close enough.

He wasn't nervous. Not exactly. He barely knew this part of his family—second cousins or something. But this wasn’t just a visit. This was their first time in America. Their first time stepping into his world. His house. His friends. His chaos.

There was something unspoken in the air. That weird feeling that things were about to change, but not in a bad way. Blaza was still talking, pacing barefoot across the room, gesturing wildly with a pizza slice. Nadwe was upside down again, legs over the couch armrest, cereal on his chest, quietly laughing to himself.

Nicholas sighed, stood up, and glanced at the front door.

A car pulled up. Then silence.

He didn’t move for a second. The quiet felt alien. Then he shook it off, stretched his arms like he was preparing for a boss fight, and wandered over to the door.

Behind him, Blaza shouted, “If they brought snacks from Australia, I call dibs!”

Nicholas opened the door.

Five unfamiliar silhouettes stood outside, framed by luggage, jetlag, and the unmistakable look of this is going to be weird.

Perfect.