His own home was nothing special to him, not anymore. It was just home. Adrian knew that he was lucky to be able to live such a lavish lifestyle in a place like New York and at first, a kind of home like this compared to a crappy apartment with ridiculous rent made him go bug-eyed too. Now, it was just where he lived but he never forgot how lucky he was to live there. Thinking about how all this must look to Austin made Adrian wonder what kind of house he lived in, what the view was like and all those sorts of things. Maybe if things went well tonight, Austin would want to see him again and they could go to his house instead.<br/><br/>"My mum and dad are in New Zealand, so I get what you mean about missing home." He gestured for Austin to follow him into the living room and over to some pictures hanging on the wall. "And my sister," he pointed to the girl he had his arm wrapped around in one of the pictures, "she lives in New York too." There were four people in the picture he pointed to, his sister, him and presumably his mother and father. They were a mismatched little family, his father was Maori, his mother caucasian and his sister was afro-Carribean. It was hard growing up, looking different from the rest of his family, especially his sister but most adults knew to keep their mouths shut and Adrian had learned not to give a crap. They were a family, no matter what anyone else said.<br/><br/>"I don't mind going to get the things we're missing, I want you to enjoy it." He wandered back into the kitchen. Despite being quite obviously rich, he didn't generally keep saffron on hand and chorizo wasn't really a staple for him either. There was probably some paprika in the spice cupboard though, nothing fresh.