Dolce finished the rest of his food with the feeling of a pit in his stomach. He didn't want to think about what had happened to him, but at the same time, he knew he needed to if the people behind it were going to pay.

He followed Bucciarati into the living room, where Abbachio joined them. It was just the three of them because Bucciarati didn't want Dolce to get overwhelmed by questions. Dolce sat in a plush armchair across from the other two, who sat on a loveseat together.

"Why don't you just start from the beginning? Tell us what happened leading up to it. It might help." Bucciarati said.

Dolce swallowed, nodding. "Umm, well, when I was younger, I was kicked out by my parents. They didn't accept my gender, they're really religious..."

"Your gender?" Abbachio raised a brow.

"See, I'm a transgender male. I was born female, I'm transitioning to male now." He said quietly, unsure how they'd react.

They both just shrugged, and Bucciarati nodded. "So they left you to the streets?"

Dolce sighed in relief before nodding. "Yeah, pretty much. I was walking around, starving for a few weeks, before some guy came to me and told me he could have work for me if I wanted it. At that point, I was so desperate, I didn't care what the job was. So I said okay." He fidgeted with his hands, unable to look up. "Well, the job was sex. I was a prostitute for a while. Up until a few nights ago-"

"What happened a few nights ago?" Bucciarati asked gently, and Dolce looked at him with a pale face.

"He sold me to some guys. They were making some kind of film... they had me tied up and in a dark room with nothing but a mattress, a camera, and- and knives. And other weird tools. I just, I remember the knives because that's what they used." He said quietly.

"So that's where you got the wound..." Abbachio sighed, nodding. "We've heard of a group making snuff films, I don't know how you were able to get away, but it's very fortunate that you did."

"I killed them."

The room fell silent, and Bucciarati and Abbachio exchanged looks. "You what?" Abbachio said in shock.

"I-I killed them, I used every single bit of strength I had to go wolf... and I tore them apart." He said quietly, staring at the floor with no expression.

They said nothing for a while.

"And... your pimp?" Bucciarati asked softly. 

"Killed him too. When I got back, I was really hurting. I was bleeding a lot, and I was scared, and I thought he would help. But he knew what they were going to do, and he was maaaaad. He was so mad." He said, tears welling up in his eyes. "He said I ruined everything, that they were going to pay him more than I would ever be worth." 

"Dolce..." Bucciarati sighed, walking over to hold his hands. "And then you ran here?" 

"I barely got away. I heard sirens and screaming, I ran as far as I could manage while I was in my wolf form. I guess when I passed out, I turned back." He said. "If Mista didn't find me, I definitely would have died."

"So... you killed them all?" He asked, brushing back a part of Dolce's hair that had fallen into his face. "That's it?"

"No!" Dolce quickly shook his head. "That's not it, cause... cause there's more of those guys out there. They were working for someone, a bigger producer of the movies. They were trying to get a hold of them when I turned, but I destroyed the phone." He said, swallowing. "It's still not safe."

"Okay," Bucciarati nodded, going back over to Abbachio. The two of them talked quietly enough so that Dolce couldn't hear, till they eventually looked back at him. 

"Do you remember where the building you were taken to is?" Abbachio asked, and Dolce nodded. "It was abandoned, or at least looked like it."

"Can you take us there?"

"I can try, but you'd better be careful. They're probably swarming that place, if not the filmmakers, then the police. It won't be good," Dolce said.

"I understand," Abbachio nodded. "We'll be careful, keep our distance. We just need some kind of lead to go on." He said.

"Yeah, I can help then." Dolce said, looking up with a sigh. "Is that all? Did you need any more information? Cause that's really all I know..."

"It's plenty enough," Bucciarati said, nodding. "Is there anything you need now, Dolce?"

Dolce swallowed. "No, but um... I have a question. What am I supposed to do once we find these guys? I guess live on the street again?"

"Of course not!" Bucciarati exclaimed, shaking his head. "You can stay here. That bedroom's been empty since we got the place. You can stay here as long as you'd like. Forever, or just until you get on your feet. Whatever you want."

He sighed in relief. "Okay. I won't stay forever. Just a while, probably. I don't want to be a burden."

"Trust me, if you help us catch these guys, you'll more than have earned your keep." Abbachio said, shaking his head. "You'd be saving lives."

"Okay, I'll do everything I can, then." Dolce nodded. "When do you want to find the building?"

"We'll try tomorrow. For now, it's important that you get some rest. I know you're mostly healed, but you're probably still weak," Bucciarati said. "You can go explore if you want, or go back to your room." 

"Alright," Dolce said, standing and going back towards his room. He didn't feel comfortable just walking around this place aimlessly. 

On his way back, he was stopped by Trish, who tilted her head at him. "Your hair is pretty long, isn't it?" She said, grabbing a piece and gently pushing it out of his face. "Doesn't it get annoying, falling in your face like that?"

"I-It kind of does, but I don't know how to do anything with it, so..." 

"Can I put it up for you?" She asked with a small smile.

Dolce blushed, nodding a bit. "Yeah, I would like that!" 

Trish dragged him to her room, guiding him into a pink chair with soft cushions. "Just sit still, I'll get it out of your face and make you look even cuter."

Dolce nodded and then sat perfectly still as Trish brushed his shoulder-length lavender hair, gently tugging it as she pulled it into a small high ponytail. "Ooo, I'll put a little braid in it too! It'll be cute." She said, coming to stand in front of Dolce. She bent down slightly, grabbing a bit of his hair and braiding it, tying it off when she reached the end.

She pointed to the mirror on her vanity, smiling. "What do you think?"

Dolce looked into the mirror and felt himself blushing even more. He looked at himself properly, playing with the small braid and looking at his face, which was now visible instead of being obscured by his long hair. "I-I really like it!" He exclaimed, smiling.

"Good! I think it really suits you. I'll be happy to do your hair any time you want. Just ask." She said, patting his shoulder. 

"Thank you," He smiled, nodding. "I really appreciate it." He stood, biting at his lip. "Oh, can I ask? Who's clothes did you give me this morning?"

She blushed a bit. "Oh, they were my old ones. I hope you don't mind. We can ask Bucciarati to buy take you shopping soon, cause you probably don't wanna keep wearing old clothes." She laughed softly.

"That would be nice..." He nodded, trying to remember the last time he'd gotten actual new clothes. He couldn't come up with anything.

He shrugged, then went to the door. "Um, I'm gonna go to my room now. If you need me, just let me know!" He said, walking out and quietly shutting her door.

Everyone here was strange, but had a niceness about them. He felt more at home than he'd ever had in his life, and it had only been about a day. 

He just hoped nothing would steal this from him.