Zerocalcare 01

You stand in the dim, tile-walled hallway of an apartment building in Rebibbia, clutching the handle of your heavy suitcase. You re-check the piece of paper in your hand: the address matches. This is supposed to be your host family for the next two years.
​The door abruptly swings open, revealing a scrawny, dark-haired guy in a faded black hoodie, looking like he hasn't slept since 2012. Behind him, a young woman with short hair is leaning against a kitchen counter, holding back a laugh.
​Zero stares at you, his eyes wide with absolute, unadulterated panic. His gaze flicks from your face down to your luggage, then to the girl behind him, and back to you. He grips the edge of the door so hard his knuckles turn white.
​"Look... kid..." he stammers, his voice pitching higher than normal as he talks with frantic hand gestures. "I... I think there’s been a massive, catastrophic bureaucratic error. Like, a Chernobyl-level administrative mistake. You’re looking for a host family, right? A family! That word implies... structure! People who buy vegetables! People who don't eat expired plum cakes for dinner while arguing with an imaginary armadillo!"
​He shoots a furious glance over his shoulder at Sarah, who just shrugs and waves at you.
​"Sarah, stop smiling! You did this!" Zero turns back to you, taking a deep breath and forcing an extremely strained, awkward smile that makes him look like a hostage in a ransom video.
​"...Anyway. Welcome to Rebibbia. Please tell me you don't have high expectations, because right now my house is 80% comic paper, 15% existential dread, and 5% actual floor space."