[ Angelo has been living on his own for a while now, ever since his father gave him a salaried position ostensibly managing one of the family's restaurants, but Ludo still lives with their parents in Hewlett. At this point the home could well be considered ancestral; a huge, sprawling Georgian-style mansion built in the late 1800s, it's been in the family since their great-grandfather bought it, and Angelo's always quite liked it, at least from a distance. But his father, obsessed with the concrete-and-glass brutalist style, has started work on a modern extension, which Angelo considers practically a sin. He'd wanted to inherit the house, but every time he comes by here now and sees the hulking grey abomination currently being fused onto the back, he finds himself hoping it's left to Ludo.
He's not intending on sticking around here, though; he just has to poke his head in, ask Ludo a quick question, and get the hell out. His mother tells him Ludo's upstairs in his room, so Angelo takes the stairs two at a time and swings around the corridor to get to Ludo's door, which still has the goofy, childish nameplate fastened onto it. He bothers to knock, but it's functionally useless since he's opening the door and striding in at the same time. ]
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He's not intending on sticking around here, though; he just has to poke his head in, ask Ludo a quick question, and get the hell out. His mother tells him Ludo's upstairs in his room, so Angelo takes the stairs two at a time and swings around the corridor to get to Ludo's door, which still has the goofy, childish nameplate fastened onto it. He bothers to knock, but it's functionally useless since he's opening the door and striding in at the same time. ]
Hey. I need to talk to you.