My parents were second-gen immigrants. They'd died when I was still a squawking little brat – snuffed out of nowhere by some guy they didn't even know.
And then there's me, their only daughter. Escaped the whole thing with nary a scratch. Just sat there, crying by the side of my parents' dead bodies.
After that, I grew up at some relative's place before getting tossed into an orphanage. Even there, though, I never had any problems with food. And that sob story everyone's always talking about, about getting bullied to death Nope, didn't happen to me even once.
I did all right. Grew from a little snotnose to a complete delinquent, and at sixteen I set foot into the local Mafia, the CR:5. Started out as one of their associates, and from there, got made without a hitch. I was often mistaken for a guy, and by the end of it I just rolled with it. i mean a lot could happen to a girl in the mafia, and no way in hell was I gunna let anyone baby me 'cause I was a girl.
Ever since, I've come and gone, hopping between the jailhouse and Daivan. Never thought of it as a particularly hard time, though. By then, jailbreaking'd already been a hobby of mine. though the fact I kept being placed in male prison was a little odd, not only that the guards never strip searched me. so I was never really found out. Don't know why, but I've had so many chances to rub elbows with the old grampas of the family that I've managed to squeeze by with unexpectedly good favor. It's something others are always jealous about.
…Since way back, I've always had a freakishly easy time finding lost objects or lost people. Always picked up random things, too, like when I stepped on this huge diamond ring just by walking down the street.
When I feel like buying some race tickets, I always score. Someone sees me come, and suddenly everyone's swarming around me, trying to take advantage. The idiots lower the odds so much it's actually a problem.
Once, a car I was riding in smashed into a wall, but I managed to climb out without any injuries. Everyone at the scene was wowed.
I don't remember my mom's face, but I have this gold ring pendant that's a memento of hers…
…and even though it's been stolen and lost in scuffles before, it's always managed to find its way back into my hands.
I'm sure there's plenty of times here and there I've never noticed or I've forgotten about. I think everyone sees me as the luckiest guy in the world. Probably.
Thanks to that, before I know it, I've managed to get a weird nickname.
My parents gave me the name Giancarlo. Usually I go by Gian.
My other name is…