Chapter Text
“Narancia? Narancia! Where are you?”
Bruno swiftly turned the corner and down the hall where their bedrooms lie. It was a plainly decorated area, meant to emulate the cleanliness that Bruno’s brothers did not have. Not only this but the maids were made sure to strategically hide every messy item they found in the halls in the bedrooms. That included the brothers themselves.
Bruno stopped in front of Narancia’s bedroom, two doors down from Bruno’s. He crossed his arms, glaring at the door- which was slammed shut only a few moments before- and cleared his throat.
“Narancia,” Bruno’s words sang unnaturally bright, “Are you in there?” He felt the corners of his lips twitch upward a bit and leaned to listen for any movement on the other side.
And as he predicted, there was a semi-loud thud, steps, and then the metallic click of a lock, although the door didn’t open. It stayed shut as it always did in the morning until later in the day. Bruno then heard a muffled “I’m not here.”
“You have to take your medicine, you know. It’s only three today, two tomorrow; the same ones you always take. If you don’t, you will end up having to take the bigger ones when you're older.”
“They’re huge already and they taste chalky! Besides, I’m busy.”
Bruno smiled but continued. “Busy with what? Cleaning your room? I doubt that since the last time I’ve been in there, it reeked of weed. Look, we both know you get… Stressed too easily for you to not take your meds and any extra vitamins but if you want to not take them, be my guest.”
There was silence.
“Mista took his just fine. And he’s only a year older than you. I’m sure he’d make fun of you if you can’t do something so simple.”
More silence.
Bruno shrugged with a loud enough sigh and turned away. He shook his head with tsk. “I suppose taking them aren’t really necessary-”
“Obviously”
“Although, you may end up too unwell to take that summer trip with mom and dad in August. The one to Germany and then Switzerland? Where you can get all the chocolate you want? That would be a major issue since the all the dairy would make you feel even worse-”
The door quickly unlocked and swung open, making Bruno jump back with a small gasp. In the doorway, Naranicia stood in his pajamas and messy bed hair. Bruno smiled a bit, knowing that he had Narancia wrapped around his finger once again.
“Would..” Narancia squinted his eyes at Bruno, “Would they really not take me?”
Bruno shrugged again, palms facing the ceiling. “I honestly don’t know, Narancia.”
“You said they wouldn’t!”
“The chances for that to happen are high. I really don’t want to lie but I also don’t want you risking your health only to end up not being able to spend time with them, especially since I might be going away before then. Even without this trip coming up, you know what the doctor said if you’re not careful. Do you want to get a stroke? Diabetes?” Bruno raised his eyebrows at the younger boy.
Narancia was quiet for a minute and Bruno could see the cogs turning in his head with the realization that he could spend time with his family in a somewhat healthy body. The boy mumbled under his breath before turning to get his headphones and walkman. Bruno waited for him, not wanting him to ‘accidentally’ wander off to the garden where the rest of their siblings waited.
“I’m sure Mista would be bored without you anyway.”
“Yeah,” Narancia responded as he closed his door behind him, “Guess I dodged a bullet. He’d only complain for like… ever or something.”
Bruno laughed, “You’re right. We’d never hear the end of it. But, Narancia… I’m being serious here. You could be in a much worse situation than now. I just want you to get into the habit of consistency here, even if you need to be reminded.”
Narancia looked away before nodding. “Yeah. I know. Sorry…”
“There’s no need to be. Let’s just finish this up and I’ll meet you and the others outside after lunch, okay? We’ll have fun!”
“Okay.”
*****
Leone Abbacchio looked over the hedge he was supposed to be trimming to view Bruno playing with his younger brothers and sister, Narancia, Giorno, Mista, and Trish. It was a fun sight: the dark-haired man cheering and coaching as the other four were playing soccer across the yard. The sun beat down on them as they all ran up and down.
“Have you talked to him at all today?” Leone flinched and turned to see his coworker Fugo staring at him from across the bush, a smug smile painted on his face. Whatever expression Leone had must have answered the question because Fugo snorted. “Of course you didn't.”
Leone frowned defensively, glaring hard at the sixteen-year-old employee. “I was going to!” he hissed
“You can’t always give that answer, you know. ‘I was going to’ never cuts it. At least not in most cases.”
Leone huffed and haphazardly went back to fiddling with one of the many clippers he kept in his bag like he was supposed to do about fifteen minutes before he got sidetracked. He knew Fugo was right. He almost always was despite being the youngest staff member in the building. It was a wonder why he was friends with Leone in the first place.
“For your information,” Leone started, “I can’t just go up to Bruno like an old friend. I work here. He has to come up to me if I want to talk to him.”
Fugo didn’t respond immediately as he had taken one of the many tools from Leone’s bag and got to work on the hedge they both decided to camouflage into for the time being. They’d only have a few minutes before they eventually have to move on to another end of the yard if they didn’t want to be yelled at by their supervisor.
“You can’t go up to him, sure. But you two have pretty much been friends for a very long time so I’m sure you would be an exception. Plus, Bruno seems to act pretty normally around you so it shouldn’t be an issue communication-wise. Oh, I take this bush by the way.”
Leone sighed as he watched Fugo start snipping away at the foliage in front of them. “Of course you do… Look, it isn’t that easy. I can’t exactly speak to him. It’s hard to hold a conversation when he looks like that.”
The two stopped what they were doing to look at Bruno laughing at whatever trick Narancia was attempting with the ball. He was beautiful in Leone’s eyes, even if he was sweating bullets in the late summer sun. His short black hair was glued to his forehead and neck, strands on the top of his head were windblown and sticking up in every direction. Leone couldn’t help but stare at his strawberry red cheeks, their sweet and fresh color making its way to the rest of his face and neck in the heat. But he still looked graceful in his linen top nonetheless.
“I mean, he’s… he’s just…” Leone paused, thinking about his next words for a moment, “And not only that, but he’s too friendly.”
Fugo raised his eyebrow, looking as if he was about to burst into laughter. “‘Too friendly?’ What the fuck does that even mean?”
“It *means* that he’s probably straight. You’ve seen him,” Leone’s voice hitched a bit in defense as he heard the first of Fugo’s failing attempts to contain laughter, “He goes up to everyone- and I do mean everyone- like a goddamn hall monitor. ‘Good morning Fugo, how are you this morning? Did you eat? Good morning Luca, how’s that eye of yours?’”
Leone forced his back into a good enough posture, waving his arms around in an attempt to get the impression just right. Although with Fugo wheezing in fits of laughter, he knew he failed.
“I mean, how else do you expect him to act?” Fugo asked, getting a hold of himself after a few moments. “I mean, ‘friendly’ seems to be putting it mildly.”
“I don’t know. He’s like a damn cheerleader. I honestly can’t tell what crowd he likes and that on top of-”
“The fact that he’s like- drop-dead gorgeous? Yeah, we know.”
Leone rolled his eyes before continuing. “It’s nerve-wracking, you know? I can’t fucking focus so every time we talk, I end up standing around, nodding like a bobble-headed idiot.”
Fugo hummed as he went back to trimming. “Well… maybe you need a new confidence booster.”
The older man squinted his eyes and stared at Fugo blankly. “Okay, what?”
“Some people work out, others finish whatever goals they have set for the day. Some people…” he waved his arms in an unconvincing shrug, “I don't know. Buy stuff. They redecorate their house, buy new clothes. Change their makeup!”
Leone raised an eyebrow at the younger boy. “Excuse me, are you implying I don’t do a good job? It took me thirty minutes to get ready this morning and I just learned a new eyebrow trick.” And he was right; a friend of his taught him how to get a pointier brow end in less than five minutes and it has been a godsend ever since.
“And you came here late,” Fugo stated plainly, “I’m just saying to make yourself look a little more presentable than jeans, a t-shirt, and nearly expired makeup you got on sale at the mall five years ago.”
Lone scowled at this. “This job doesn’t really give much wriggle room to splurge you know.”
Fugo shrugged and went back to his task. “And yet it still pays better than most considering the family we work under. So…”
Finally deciding that he was finished procrastinating on his job, Leone huffed and turned to the bush next to Fugo’s. He thought about what his coworker said and came to the conclusion that once again, he was right. He supposed he could put some more effort into his looks, especially considering that his crush was the eldest son of the owners of the mansion he worked at.
Of course, he shouldn’t outshine the family, but it wouldn't hurt to look a little more appealing than a janky old smock and any old shirt and jeans. He had to make himself look fun. But the question now was how?
*****
Leone stepped through the automatic sliding doors of the nearby Sears. It was a tad bit out of the way from where he’d have to pick up the takeout he had ordered but the thought of Fugo chastising him the next day at work felt more embarrassing than the fact that he would be seeing Bruno again in the same exact outfit he wore today. So with an inaudible sigh, he stepped foot onto the vinyl flooring of the store.
Sears was definitely not his store. It had seemed more or less the same since he was a kid, though, and he could still imagine himself being bored out of his mind waiting for his mother to hurry up and put down a dress she had seen in a catalog. Not to mention the crowded space that was taken up by the immense amount of middle-aged women who decided to go out this evening despite knowing that the best items were found earlier in the morning or once the seasons shift.
Leone took a cart and went on his way to the men's section and was almost relieved to find that it was nearly empty save for a couple of elderly women that were most likely looking for items they could put on their husbands or brothers once they went home. He paid them no mind.
The man found himself internally groan when he found that most of his clothes were far from his style. They weren’t overly fancy or anything, it was Sears, after all, however they were just not his style. The new and up-to-date fashion and patterns were almost blinding next to Leone’s greyscale; he looked like a shadow.
Leone flipped aimlessly through the shirts, each one seemingly more plain the next. Collared cottons and linens with the ability to be casual or dressed up depending on the occasion pile up in Leone’s mental trash bin. There were maybes and not sures mixed in but it all went to the same pile after a few extra moments of looking each of them over with a certain kind of disdain.
‘This looks okay,’ Leone thought to himself after about ten minutes or so of searching. He picked up a shirt that was black, blue, white, and green and had a somewhat busy print of swirls, zigzags, and horizontal lines. It seemed too nice to wear when he was out gardening, but he was sure that with good washing, any dirt would come out just fine. So he put it in his cart.
Pants were next. If Leone was being honest he put whatever dark-colored denim he could find in the cart. Only a couple though as he was on a budget. Leone struggled to find his size though, as he squirmed around trying to look at the tag of his own jeans as inconspicuous as he could. Hey, these levis are nice-
A buzz in Leone’s back pocket interrupted his train of thought. He looked to see that the caller ID was Fugo’s. He sighed and picked up the call. “Yeah?”
“Hey, uh, small favor while you’re out there.”
“The answer is no, I’m already getting food for the both of us. Thirty whole dollars so you’re lucky the liter of soda is free. Anyways, the last time I went clothes shopping for you, nothing fit right and the things that did, you hated, remember? I had to take it all back for what? Seventy percent of the original price?”
“Wha- I only need a new pack of socks! The ones I have are worn through. Dirty work and heavy lifting, you know? Also, extra duck sauce if you haven’t already picked up the food.”
Leone threw his head back and groaned, not caring if anyone glanced over. “Ugh, do I have to? You have to pay me back if I do.”
There was a sound of amusement on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, whatever. I already have a twenty for when you get back.”
“Okay, see you then.” The phone clicked off and Leone immediately rolled his eyes. Having Fugo as a friend was more like having a younger brother.
*****
“What do we have left today?” Leone shoved the last bit of toast strategically into his mouth in an attempt to not ruin his lavender painted lips.
Fugo watched in amazement as the act enfolded in front of him, although he didn’t say anything in response. Instead, it was Mr. Pericolo, who also eyed him with mild amusement.
“You have to mow the lawn,” Pericolo smiled as he was interrupted by a small groan, “And as for Fugo here, he has to help me with some of the hedges in the back. He can help you clean up the clippings once he is done. Is that clear?” Yessirs came from the two men and they continued breakfast that morning.
“Hey, is Luca still sick today?” Fugo started up a conversation as more of the staff gathered around to eat breakfast.
Half an hour went by and the two washed their dishes and went to put on their gear to start working. Leone had put on his new clothes this morning, not wanting to prolong any anxiety in the possibility that Bruno would notice him. It would only make the newly purchased items sit in his closet and collect mothballs.
Leone noticed Fugo staring at him through the corner of his eyes, however, he didn’t say anything. He knew the teen would say something.
A long couple of minutes later, Fugo’s voice could be heard. “It doesn’t look like anything you would usually wear.”
Leone looked up at him, feeling defensive all of a sudden. He felt heat rising in his cheeks. “I was at Sears. Looked through some of the catalogs that’re always on the counter over there.” The man gestured over to where a small pile of those same magazines lay on the granite surface.
“Oh. I meant you look good. I’m sure Bruno would come up and talk to you, outfit aside.” There was a short pause and Leone looked up to see Fugo visibly hesitate in his words. If Leone knew anything about the kid, he was about to say something he might not like. “I, uh, I heard last night while you were out that he was planning on going away for good this time. You two aren’t like best friends or anything, but I’m sure he would want to tell you personally.”
Leone’s stomach plummeted. It always had at the mentioned of the possibility that Bruno won’t be around come the end of the summer.
There was this fancy art school that held programs for students and non-students alike that gave people the opportunity to learn and get internships. A couple of years ago was when Bruno decided to take on the film and photography program in hopes of making up for a proper university degree. However, something always came up in the family, and Bruno, with a sense of dutifulness, came through to help. So when the summer *does* actually come to an end, the plans of going to this four-year program never come through. Maybe this year was different. It always could be.
“Not just rumors,” The two boys turned to Mr. Pericolo, who smiled, “I heard that the young man had taken several entry tests early this spring. I am more than sure he passed. He is a smart one.”
“B-but, he won’t leave, right? Like *leave* leave,” Leone asked a little too nervously. “His parents wouldn’t want him to be so far away.”
Mr. Pericolo put a hand on the young man's shoulder, “He’s not the only one leaving. Mista is too. He’s eighteen.”
‘But, Mista’s…” Leone faltered. He didn’t want to say stupid, no. That wasn’t quite it.
He didn’t care for Mista in the same way he did for Bruno. He always liked how responsible Bruno was and maybe it was because he never saw their parents, but seeing the man always take the time to make sure not only his brothers and sister are okay, but the rest of the staff too. He floated through the hallways and everyone turned their heads to look at him.
Mr. Pericolo squeezed Leone’s shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts with a laugh. “Please, Abbacchio, it has yet to be confirmed that Bruno has passed at all. And besides, there’s still a few weeks before the school season starts. Don’t go worrying that head of yours. Now… get to work. Or we’ll be working till sundown.”
Leone scowled with a slight roll of his eyes. They never work from morning to late in the evening, although the thought of doing so today would help in distracting him from the blaring possibility of not seeing Bruno anymore.
The man turned to Fugo, who was about to head off with Pericolo and before he could be out of earshot, Leone called after him. “You think you can keep an eye on him or something?”
Fugo waved his arm without looking back. “Yeah, whatever!”
And that was all they would say to each other until a few hours later.
*****
“Yes, thank you Mrs. Menini, that’s one hundred perc- hey! No running in the house and quiet down!” Bruno frowned at the sight of Mista and Narancia sprinting down the hall all too excitedly. Not only that, Trish followed them soon after, whining for them to give something back, a much more concerning sight.
Bruno nearly rolled his eyes, but he knew he couldn’t so he settled for a small sigh instead. He turned to Mrs. Menini apologetically. “I am so terribly sorry if you would wait a moment and I will be right back with you.”
The man then turned to the three, now bickering for what looked like a teens’ magazine, with hot pink letters and a fairly attractive man shirtless on the front cover and all. It was definitely Trish’s. And while under any other circumstance Bruno would be mildly amused, poor Menini was hard of hearing as it is and a bunch of screaming teens was not doing anything to aid her. Not only this, they were interrupting his business as she was the maid.
“Ahem,” Bruno loudly cleared his throat, now extremely annoyed. All three of them froze in their spot and turned slowly to see Bruno standing only a foot from them, arms crossed. “I don’t suppose that there is a reason why you three are interrupting my conversation? And compromise poor Mrs. Menini’s hearing?”
Trish was the first to come to her senses as she straightened herself out quickly. “I’m sorry Mrs. Menini. They stole my magazine.”
“It’s okay, my dear,” The old woman’s voice could be heard behind Bruno.
Two more sorries could be heard soon after her and Bruno knew they weren’t that sorry but they respected Menini. She worked for them a lot longer than any of them were alive and it would’ve been rude if they roughhoused around her.
“Master Bruno, I think I will be able to do my tasks just fine. I’ll be on my way to let you… handle the situation.” And Menini’s footsteps could be heard through the door, its squeaky hinges swinging shut.
Bruno still hadn’t looked away from the three, who now had their heads hung low in embarrassment and even more ashamed that they had to be lectured. He glanced between them, deciding that the two youngest could go.
“Trish, Naracncia, please leave. I need to talk to Mista alone.”
Mist whipped his head up in astonishment. “Wha- why me? They were-” He was interrupted by Bruno’s glare, which said more than words alone.
Bruno waited until the kids were through the door and out of the hallway to begin his lecture. He frowned. “You are eighteen years old! Eighteen! I expect you to act better, especially around the staff. They work hard to clean up *your* mess by the way. Don’t think I don’t hear them gossiping in the halls, because I do Mista! I really do!”
“So Narancia and Trish get a pass? I swear it’s always me who gets caught…” Bruno watched Mista get angrier and angrier by the second. “I mean, really? I can pretty much do what I want.”
“No. You can’t Mista. Trish is almost always well-mannered but Narancia? You always have him doing something stupid because of you. You know he copies everything you do.”
“He’s seventeen! Bruno, he’s not a kid and neither am I! He can make his own decisions and he chooses to hang with me. *I* can make decisions for myself too. I just don’t…” He ran his hand under his hat, shifting it. Bruno could see the beginnings of his hairline and if Mista noticed anything, he didn’t do anything about it. “I don’t need you *breathing* down my neck anymore.”
Bruno was silent, unsure if Mista was finished talking. He usually never was. Although the man did wonder what he was frustrated about. For the past month, Mista had been getting into a substantial amount of trouble: lots of drinking, smoking weed, fighting. And while Bruno had never asked, he had a theory as to why.
So as Bruno thought, he watched Mista ball his fists at his side with a small breath and look towards the door briefly. He glanced back at his older brother hesitantly before turning to go.
“Mista.” The teen stopped with a sigh. “Is this... Is this about college? Because if it is, you don’t have to go away if that’s not what you want. I get it. Well, not so much since I’m going away for the first time too. But you're going away for a long time, only coming back for the holidays and breaks. And you will know no one but yourself.”
Bruno watched as Mista turned slowly. He saw the hesitation in his eyes and it honestly made him sad as he was never like this before. “What if I don’t… want to go to college. It’s not really my thing, you know? I want a career. A job, I guess because I know I do better in that kinda place. Sitting at a desk for an hour or longer… I don’t think I’d be able to stand it.”
There was a silence. Bruno honestly didn’t know how to respond. Mista was actually looking inside himself and figuring out what was best for him and it surprised the man in more ways than one.
Bruno then blinked, realizing he had to respond quickly. “I… I can definitely try and help you find a job… If that’s what you want. I can definitely do that. But that means I’d have to talk to mom and dad.”
“They’re gonna be angry. You of all people know that.”
Bruno laughed softly. “That is true… But I’m the only person who can knock some sort of sense into them. Even if it is small.”
“Yeah. I wish I had that power. To make them happy, but uh… I’m not as smart as they want me to be. But you are and it makes me almost jealous. One of the few things that they’re happy I can do is work hard.”
Bruno nodded, knowing that Mista would object to any kind of reassurance he gave. Instead, he stepped toward him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me. I will talk them down but promise me that in the next year, you *will* find a job. Understand? No acting like a middle schooler.”
“Eh, don’t worry about me,” Mista said with a half shrug. And it was then that Bruno knew he was feeling better. “It’s you that I’m worried about.”
“We’ll see about that. I gotta go check in on the gardeners outside so I’ll see you at dinner if not before then, got it?” Mista nodded with a knowing smile and turned to go. Once he left, Bruno let out a hefty sigh, knowing that this problem was going to be a piece of work, and turned to the window.
One of the gardeners caught his eye. He was the tall one with silver hair that he kept in a half-hazard bun and although he was too far away from where Bruno stood inside the house, Bruno could see that it was Leone. The man smiled at this.
Maybe he should go and talk to him today; it’s been a while since the last time they did. Although the thought of talking to Leone stressed Bruno out as it always seemed that he was busy or needed elsewhere.
But who knows? Maybe it was a good idea to talk to a friend. After all, Bruno needed that kind of connection.