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It was Keith’s final semester of high school, and he was beyond excited that the next morning, he would be flying with his best friend halfway across the world for their school’s World History Bi-annual Italy Trip. To make sure they sleep on the flight so they could adjust to the time change, Keith and Pidge made it their goal to stay up all night watching movies until Pidge’s parents drove them to the airport at 4am.
“Which one next? More Ancient Aliens?” Keith asked, PS4 controller in hand as he readied the ‘play next episode’.
Pidge looked quizzically at the screen, “Nah. We leave tomorrow, thus have to get in the spirit of Italy.”
Keith looked at them, “I’m pretty sure your Netflix isn’t connected to Italian Ghost Adventures or anything. Wait are there Italian conspiracy theory documentaries on here?”
Pidge gestured for the controller, “I mean they probably exist I just don’t know how many Netflix has,” they went to the home screen and scrolled to the search to type in what they want, “I was thinking something a little more nostalgic.”
The screen darkened as Pidge made their choice. Blondie’s “The Tide is High” starts playing out of the speaker before Keith comments, “You’re right. This is a classic.” Keith decided that if his Italy trip was anything like Lizzie McGuire’s graduation trip, that would be alright with him.
--
As Lizzie takes the stage one last time Keith leans over, onto Pidge, “Do you think a pretty Italian boy will sing to me while we’re there.”
Pidge looked down on him, “But you don’t even speak Italian.”
“Well, no. But if he was pretty and he sang to me, then I think I will have had a complete Italian experience,” Keith finished, his lack of sleep clearly showing in his statement.
Pidge poked at his ribs, “Yesterday you said ‘as long as you got a cute boy to buy you spaghetti’ your trip would be complete.”
Keith brushed his hands at their wrists, trying to get Pidge off his side, “Well a serenade is probably easier, seeing as you oh so graciously reminded me that I don’t speak a lick of Italian.” He laid on Pidges lap while Lizzie finished her song before sitting up again. “How much longer until we leave for the airport.
They dug out their phone, “Looks like 2 hours.”
“Ugh really? Want to tag team Overwatch?”
“Sure, but you have to get up to get it off the shelf.”
--
It was the last day of their trip and honestly Keith was wondering what the guy who decided it was a good idea to let an entire class of teenagers loose on Rome for a whole day was thinking. It was utter chaos. No one knew a lick of Italian besides what they picked up that week (the most important phrase being “where’s the bathroom?”) so going anywhere was unheard of.
Which is why Pidge and Keith were just sitting on some steps in what looked like a small performance square.
“You sure you don’t want to go to the art museum again?” Pidge looked over at their best friend on the step next to them.
“Unless the school is going to pay for it again, I’m good.” Keith didn’t even look away from his sketchbook.
Pidge narrowed their gaze, “Do you want to walk down to the fountain again?”
“We’ve been there 3 of the past 5 days, Pidge.”
“What about just walking around the shops and bakeries?” Pidge suggested, hoping something would get him off those steps.
Keith looked up at them, “Look, I get it, you want to leave. But there’s nothing else to do that doesn’t cost money or that we haven’t done yet this week.”
“Is there any way I can get you to at least humor me and walk around town for a little while?” Pidge pleaded.
Keith threw his arms up, “I don’t know? Find some Italian boy to serenade me like I’m Lizzie McGuire.” He went right back to his sketch book, his focus turning to the fattest pigeon he had ever seen.
Pidge grumbled and leaned over the steps, scoping out the area one last time. Most of the people when they arrived an hour ago had left after reuniting with friends. There seemed to be a few other student groups there, looking just as lost as they were.
Frustrated with Keith, Pidge got up and started walking around, trying to see what was nearby. Just out of view of Keith, they found two students, probably their age, arguing in Italian about something. They don’t know what prompted this, but they went up to talk to the two of them.
Pidge cleared their throat “Ciao,” they said with a horrendous New-England American accent. [Hello]
The larger of the two waved back first, “Buon giorno! Come va?” [Good morning! How are you?]
Pidge froze for a moment, trying to remember every translation they learned over the past few days, completely drawing a blank. “Uh, parli inglese?” [Do you speak English?]
They both nod, “Sure we do! What’s going on?” The smaller of the two responded, arm leaning up onto the larger guy’s shoulder.
“Okay, so stop me if this sounds dumb, but I really want to spend today doing something but my best friend won’t leave this little square, and it’s our last day in town, but he’ll only leave if he, and I quote, ‘is serenaded by a cute Italian boy’, but I don’t know Italian so I wasn’t sure how to ask anyone to do that, but then you guys also speak English so I figured I could ask you,” they paused for a breath.
The larger guy cut in when he had the chance, “I’m sorry we’re not-“
“GOING TO TURN THIS DOWN! MY TIME HAS COME, HUNK!” The smaller one’s eyes light up like the sun, turning towards Pidge.
“What are you doing you can’t just-“ Hunk starts but is cut off by his friend once again.
He takes a breath, placing his hands onto Hunk’s shoulders. “I have been preparing for this moment for the past FOUR MONTHS. This will not be in vain.” He turned towards Pidge once again, rolling up his sleeves, “So where is your friend who needs serenading?”
--
Keith didn’t realize Pidge had left until he went to show them his sketch of the fattest pigeon he had ever seen, adding to his collection of Italian portraits of his best friend. He was going to go back to his book when someone stood right in front of him, blocking out all the sun light. He went to look at their face and he was a loss for words.
The taller boy looked down on him, the brightest smile on his face, hand out towards him on the steps. Keith is at a loss for what to do.
Then he starts to sing.
“Hey adesso
Hey adesso”
The Italian boy winks at him before getting into the verse.
“Hai mai visto un note cos ì bella?
Potevo darti almeno un bacio, le stele splendono cos ì luminose
Quanod ti vendo tu sorridi e vai
Oh oh oh
Io desiderò non dimenticare mai questo
Perché nel mio cuore io so cosa è questo”
Keith knew the tune to Hilary Duff’s “What Dreams Are Made of” anywhere. In that moment, he could die.
The boy in front of him holds his hand out for another moment before he starts to dance along to the chorus.
“Hey adesso
Hey adesso
E di questo che sono fatti I sogni
Hey adesso
Hey adesso
E di questo che sono fatti I sogni
Io ho in qualche posto io appartengo
Io ho qualcuno da amare
E di questo che sono fatti I sogni”
From the corner of his eye he can make out Pidge, standing there, phone out, obviously recording this whole event. Keith doesn’t know whether to curse or thank his best friend for this.
It’s not until he goes into the second verse that Keith realizes, this Italian boy knows the whole song by heart, and for the second time in two minutes, Keith could die happily right there.
“Hai mai visto di cosa è bella la vita?
Tu potevi cercare il mondo e mai figure fuori
Yu non hai vela sugli oceani
No no no
La felicità è un mistero e
Qui adesso tu e io”
This boy is smiling like the sun, dancing around the stone steps, and Keith knows he’s blushing like an idiot.
“Hey adesso
Hey adesso
E di questo che sono fatti I sogni
Hey adesso
Hey adesso
E di questo che sono fatti I sogni
Io ho in qualche posto io appartengo
Io ho qualcuno da amare
E di questo che sono fatti I sogni”
The Italian boy looks like he’s having the time of his life, and Keith is too star struck to get up and dance with him. The look on his face as Keith watches him finish every turn is so worth is though.
“Aprio glocchi
E di questo che sono fatti I sogni
Grida al cielo
E di questo che sono fatti I sogni
Poi ti vedo, tu sorridi e vai
Oh oh oh
leri la mia vita era lenta
Adesso tutto è technicolor”
Keith just knew his face was probably as red as his jacket at this point, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. This was easily the best part of his trip this week and he’s almost sad when he realizes the boy has made it to the last chorus.
“Hey adesso
Hey adesso
E di questo che sono fatti I sogni
Hey adesso
Hey adesso
E di questo che sono fatti I sogni
Io ho in qualche posto io appartengo
Io ho qualcuno da amare
E di questo che sono fatti I sogni
Hey adesso
Questi sono I sogni
E di questo che sono fatti I sogni”
Keith is frozen in his seat, too shocked to move. Before he gets around to say anything, the boy leans down to kiss the back of his hand, only a moment before running off, joining a larger friend of his, who definitely appeared to be in a hurry and sick of his friend’s antics.
Keith can feel Pidge’s presence as they move in next to him. After about a minute they speak up, “So I found a sculpture garden that’s about a 20 minute walk from here.”
“Fine, let’s go,” he said as he gathers the few pencils he set out on the step next to him.
--
Hunk loved many things. He loved the industry museums they visited, he loved the gardens in Italy, and he swears he loves his best friend.
But if he has to listen to Lance talk about his mystery edgelord one more time he’s going to lose it.
“But Hunk did you see his eyes? I swear those are the cutest Italian eyes I’ve ever had the pleasure to stare into,” Lance said next to him, dreamily. If Hunk had to deal with this on their entire 14 hour flight back to the states he was going to murder him.
Hunk took a deep breath, “Lance, his are the only pair of Italian eyes you’ve ever looked into.”
“And they were beautiful.” Lance dragged out the last word.
“And I hate to break it to you but I hope you got a good look at them cause you’re never going to see them again.”
Lance gasped, offended his best friend would even suggest such a thing, “Hunk Elizabeth Garret, how DARE you suggest such a thing. I guess I’ll just have to go back and impress him once I get that college degree in a few years.”
Hunk caved, sighing at him, “Humor me then, how are you going to find him when you go back? Do you even know his name?”
“Minor details,” Lance shrugged him off, “The universe can’t stop love.”
“Oh, so that’s what this is called now?” Hunk asked.
Before Lance could answer, their faculty advisor called them to pick up their boarding passes to get on the plane. Mr. Iverson has to call out his attention to the group. Lance half hears their boarding policy as another student group walks past their terminal, their advisor turned around giving instructions while they walked.
--
Keith only half paid attention to what Ulaz said. He was more focused on making sure he remembered every detail from the day before. “Hey, Pidge,” He nudged their shoulder and whispered.
“Oh my god wait 5 seconds so I can hear what gate we’re going to.”
Keith scowled, still unfocused on his Art Teacher’s instructions. He has other more important things going through his mind at the moment to worry about where they’re going. He figured he can just ask one of his classmates later, or just follow the crowd of them.
“Gate 214,” Pidge whispered to him, interrupting his thoughts. “What is it this time, Keith?”
“Do you think I should have gotten up and danced with him when he offered?” Keith asked.
Pidge just glared, “No. No no no, Keith I am not listening to you obsess over some random Italian boy for the entire flight. No. No.”
Keith lifted his arms in frustration, “Then how else am I going to get these doubts and fears out of my brain cells?”
“I don’t know? Show me your pigeons? Play your DS? Read Good Omens for the 700th time? I don’t care; but I’m not listening to you talk about ‘mystery Italy boy’ for the next 14 hours.” Pidge said.
Keith pouted at them. Pidge growled, “Fine, I’ll cave. I’ll give you 5 responses about Italy boy but that’s it. Do you really want to use one of those now?”
“Yes,” Keith said, maybe a little too loud.
“Fine. I mean I’m not you but you easily could have gotten up to dance with him. When’s the next time you’re going to even be in Italy?” Pidge said. Keith sighed, realizing they were right, “Keith, why are you so obsessive over him? You’re never going to see him again.”
Keith grumbled, “Don’t bring that realist bullshit into this. I can dream, can’t I?”
Pidge glanced over at him before turning the direction they were walking again, “You’re impossible. You know that, right?”
--
One year later
Pidge sat in the library with their programming project partner; the exact opposite way they wanted to end their spring break. After about five hours of solid work, they deserved this break. For the first time all day, they opened Facebook and scrolled through notifications. Ignoring the 4 notifications from their brother, they selected the memories notification.
Pidge smirked when the first photo that popped up was their best friend, red as his jacket, blushing as an Italian boy sang “What Dreams are Made of” to him, fulfilling all his dreams of their school Italy trip in that one moment.
“Hey Hunk,” their project partner looked up from across the table, “You want to drag my best friend with me?”
Hunk cracked his knuckles, “I’m always ready for a good dragging session.”
“Okay, so backstory time we went on a trip to Italy last spring break with school and in a sleep deprived state he told me all he wanted to happen was to be serenaded by a cute Italian boy so I found one and just look at him,” Pidge turns their laptop towards Hunk, “He didn’t shut up about this boy for months.”
Hunk studied the photo on the screen, flipping through the series of photos that Pidge had posted a year ago. He takes a breath, “Pidge, I hate to break it to you, but that’s no Italian.”
“What? Of course he is! I walked over and he was speaking Italian to a buddy of his-“
“Nope, I’m pretty sure he’s Cuban.” Hunk nodded, not looking away from the photo. “That is, unless he’s been lying to me for the past twelve years.” He moved back onto his laptop, pulling up his best friend’s Facebook profile. Turning his computer to face Pidge, he said, “This is my best friend Lance. He and I were on a school trip in Rome last spring break as well.”
Pidge scanned between the two photos, “Oh my god,” they placed a hand over their mouth. “That was you?” Pidge shouted, thankful they booked the study room for the afternoon instead of having to deal with the stares of other students shushing them. “Wait, what does Lance do now, because Keith definitely goes here.”
“Shit, Pidge, he’s my roommate,” Hunk just stared at them. Digging out his phone he asked, “Wait, I can see if he’s not doing anything. I mean we are on a study break after all.”
“Well, Keith is just going to be in studio all night until I bug him to get food. Hold on, I’ll text him.” Pidge typed out a ‘hey loser come to study room 422 if you want an ass kicking’ followed up quickly by a ‘or food that works too’.
Hunk dialed Lance’s, number and when he picked up Hunk started asking for a notebook that he really didn’t need that he left on his bed. He ended the call with a quick, “Thanks bud, I’ll see you soon,” and turned back to Pidge. “So now we wait?”
“I guess? Do we want to go back and work on that midterm until they get here?” Pidge asked, flipping open their programming notes.
--
Lance would do anything for his best friend. So when Hunk called just before he took his Physics study break to head down to the dining hall, he knew it was going to be a ‘I’ve been in the library for 7 hours, let’s get food’ or a ‘shit bro I forgot something on my bed’ message. Turns out tonight was the latter.
It’s about a ten-minute walk from their dorm to the library and it’s honestly pretty uneventful. He runs into a classmate from his Physics lecture outside the engineering complex, and they stop and discuss their quiz coming up just after break before Lance runs off again. He reaches the side doors of the library before too long and makes his way to the fourth floor.
When he gets there, he sees another guy walking by the study rooms, eye on his phone. Lance notices something familiar about him, but he figures it’s just because they most likely had a lecture together.
By the time Lance made it to room 422, phone boy stopped in front of it too. As he looked up, Lance got a good look at his face.
Wait a god damn minute.
What is HE doing here?
Both of their eyes go wide and they shout at the same time, “What are you doing here?”
The other boy puts his phone in his pocket and looks back up at Lance, “I go here.”
“What the fuck? Me too.” Lance is so confused. This is definitely Italy boy, no mistake about it. He hears some shuffling around inside and the door to the study room opens seconds later. His best friend and someone half his size open the door. It takes him a few seconds before he recognizes them too.
Lance is such a state of shock that he almost doesn’t realize Hunk is talking when he starts, “Lance, this is Keith. Keith, this asshole is Lance.”
“Hunk Albatross Garret. I’m an asshole? If that’s the case I’m at least the asshole who brought you the notebook you left behind.” Lance held up the book, letting Hunk grab it.
Hunk took it from him, “Yeah, but I really didn’t need it, I just needed you here.”
“Wait so if he was falsely dragged here, does this mean we aren’t getting food? Cause if not I gotta head back to the studio,” Keith eyed the smaller figure in the doorway. Lance is cursing his stomach for grumbling at that statement. Keith glanced over at him and looked back at the door, “Clearly I’m not alone. If you’re not going to eat now I’ll just go with Lance instead cause clearly we have things to talk about.”
Lance smirked, draping an arm around Keith’s shoulder, “Well said, Keith. You both have ten minutes if you want to get food with us,” Lance glanced at the room sign out sheet next to the door, “Seeing as you only have five more minutes in the room anyway.”
Hunk glanced over at the smaller, “Yeah, just let us pack up and we can head to the caf.”
Lance and Keith followed them into the study room. Before leaving, the smaller one typed out a few things and shut their computer. Keith’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Glancing over his shoulder, Lance noticed a Facebook notification. Scrolling through the post, he looked up, “Pidge what the fuck?” Keith held up his phone so Lance could see it better.
Looking down, he realized that Pidge had shared a series of photos on ‘Facebook Memories’ from one year ago, and they were all of Lance dancing to “What Dreams Are Made Of”.
He handed the phone back to Keith, as he took a breath. “So how did you even know the song in Italian?” Keith asked.
He could hear Hunk laughing on the other side of the small room, “I may or may not have practiced for about 4 months leading up to the trip.” Lance glanced over at Hunk, who was nodding in confirmation.
“We even had an Italian foreign exchange student at our school last year and he would go up to her and ask if his accent was right during lunch. You could tell she was so tired of it so after the first two weeks she would just tell him yes to make him go away,” Hunk said. Lance hated how right he was.
--
Two Months Later
“Come on Lance, won’t you give me any hints as to where we’re going?” Keith hated not knowing where he was going, and hated even more the vague directions he was getting from the passenger seat. If there was one thing he didn’t hate, it was the person giving him those vague directions.
“Not until we’re there. Turn left at the light,” Lance pointed towards the intersection.
Keith flashed his signal, turning where Lance pointed out.
“Alright, in the next block there should be a parking garage on the left. We’ll park there and walk the rest of the way.” Lance said.
They were in the heart of downtown. There’s a little bit of everything down there, and so whatever guess Keith had went out the window as they passed by store front to storefront. He found an open spot on the first level of the garage and locked up his car. “How far of a walk are we going anyway?”
Lance reached out for Keith’s hand, “Not far from here. Just another block or so.” Lance led him out of the garage, hanging right before crossing the street. “You have your ID on you, right?”
Keith raised an eyebrow, “I mean, I drove so yes. Isn’t it a little late for you to be asking that in the first place?”
“Just checking, don’t worry,” Lance rubbed his thumb across Keith’s knuckles. Lance pointed towards a line outside a storefront, “That’s where we’re going.”
Keith was an absolute stranger to nightlife, and Lance knew that. Walking up to the Castle of Lions, as the storefront neon lights read out, his nerves his like a freight train. He knew if Lance picked it out, there must have been a reason for it. Getting out his ID to show the bouncer, Lance poked at Keith’s shoulder, breaking him out of his state.
Lance pointed out a sign at the window, with today’s date. ‘Decade Date series: 2000’s Night’ “We don’t have to stay for the whole time, and I promise there is a reason for bringing you here.” Lance flashed his ID to the bouncer, holding out the backs of his hands to be marked. Keith mimicked the action a moment later before trailing behind Lance inside.
The club itself wasn’t what he expected. There were a lot more lights than Keith expected from a night club, paintings of the night sky and different star systems lined the walls. Towards one end of the large room, there was a DJ booth just in front of the bathrooms, where a man with a very impressive handlebar mustache was messing with equipment and scrolling through a tablet screen. The other end sported a bar top, Neon lights up above read ‘Voltron’. “Yeah there was a place here in the 90’s called ‘Voltron’ but it closed. Some family friends of the old owner opened it back up years later as a night club to bring in more business again,” Lance answered his question before Keith had asked. Lance handed Keith a ten dollar bill, “I’m going to run to the restroom real quick. Do you want to get us some drinks? I’ll meet you over to the right of the bar when I’m out.”
“Yeah sounds go-,” Keith stopped himself, “Wait we can’t drink that’s why we got out hands marked.”
“You drink soda right? Or is that against your weird health diet?” Lance poked at him. “Just get me a Shirley Temple. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Keith started to shout back, “Vegetarianism isn’t some weird health diet, a lot of people do it-“ before he realized Lance was out of earshot and would hardly hear him above the music even if he was five feet from him. Keith shrugged and made his way to the bar.
“Hey there, what can I get for ya?” A woman behind the bar with a thick European accent asked.
Keith stammered for a moment, holding out the bill, “Uh, two Shirley Temples please.”
She nodded, stepping back from the counter, “You got it!” She pulled two disposable cups from a stack, “Do you come around here at all?” She asked Keith.
Keith shook his head, “Not at all. This is definitely more of my boyfriend’s scene. It’s my first time out with him someplace like this though.”
“Well then, Welcome to the Castle of Lions!” She introduced, “I’m Allura; bartender, co-owner and occasional cat sitter. Restrooms are on either side of the DJ. Last call is at 2am and we close at 2:30 but I wouldn’t blame you if you left way before then on your first night out.” She set two drinks on the counter. “Two sodas will be 4 dollars,” she said as Keith held out the bill for her to take again.
Keith looked back over at the dance floor. He’s thankful Lance dragged them out early enough so there’s not too much of a crowd out quite yet. He can see all the way to the booth, where Lance is turning from, walking back towards him at the bar.
Keith held out one of the drinks out for Lance to take, “Alright so you have about 15 minutes before we’re getting out on the floor.” Keith’s eyes went wide at the suggestion, “I mean if you want to that is, but I promise, it will be worth it.” Lance mentioned as he led them to a small table just by the bar.
Wrapping his hands around his drink, he looked towards Lance, “How did you even know about this place?” Keith asked.
Lance took a sip and shrugged, “Hunk and I just kinda stumbled in one night last semester. They do these ‘decade days’ every other month and we hit the beginning of the first one and just kept coming. Allura and Coran kinda took us in since then.” Lance sipped, “I guess it helps that we just keep coming back.”
“And Coran is?” Keith rasied an eyebrow, waiting for a response.
“Oh he’s the DJ most nights. You’ll meet him later don’t you worry,” Lance said.
“Terrifying.”
Lance knocked his head back, laughing, “Don’t worry, he’s mostly harmless. He’s just got some sick beats, but nothing like the weekend guy though. Matt has a completely different style.”
Keith’s eyes perk up, “Wait, Matt works here?”
Lance narrowed his gaze, “I mean yeah but how do you know which Matt I’m talking about? There’s gotta be dozens of Matts here.”
“Pidge’s brother does a lot of DJ work around and mentioned getting hired downtown somewhere. I guess this is the place,” Keith started.
Lance was about to ask more about it, then he heard the opening beat. Abandoning his empty cup on the table, he stood, reaching for Keith’s hand, “You ready?”
Hey now
Hey now
Keith stood immediately, taking Lance’s hand. Not missing his chance twice in a row.
He’s bound and determined to dance with this boy this time.