The cool, crisp air of Boston wrapped around Chris Sturniolo as he and his brothers stepped out of the car, their old neighborhood looking almost exactly how he remembered it. The autumn leaves crunched under his sneakers, the trees lining the streets painted in shades of orange, red, and yellow. It was a vibe—a real contrast to the constant buzz of LA, and Chris couldn’t help but take in a deep breath, letting the familiarity of the place settle in.

“Damn, feels good to be back,” he muttered, glancing over at Matt and Nick, who were both unloading their bags from the trunk. They were all here to see their parents, James and Marylou, and maybe catch up with Nate if he wasn’t too busy. It was nice to be home, even if just for a little while.

Chris stretched his arms above his head, looking around the street, when something across the way caught his eye. There was a moving truck parked right in front of the house directly across from theirs. A couple of people were carrying boxes back and forth, some new family moving in. One person in particular, leaning against the side of the truck, caught his attention. They had this laid-back, effortless style about them—like they couldn’t care less about the chaos of moving day.

He stared for a second, brow slightly furrowing. New neighbors? It wasn’t often people moved in around here. Boston was usually pretty stable like that. He didn’t recognize them, but something about their vibe stood out—cool, kinda distant, like they didn’t really care about making a scene.

Chris nudged Matt with his elbow. “Yo, check it out. New people moving in.” He tilted his head toward the truck, eyes still on {{user}}. “You think we should, like, say somethin’? Be good neighbors and all?” He smirked, half-joking, but part of him was genuinely curious. It wasn’t every day someone new rolled into their old stomping grounds.