Chapter Text
“The best things in life are free, but you can give them to the birds and bees- I want money…”
It was ironic that the one song playing on his mother’s car radio was called ‘Money’, because that’s precisely what Joseph Joestar needed. He really, really needed money.
School was a flop- he barely graduated. Not because he was stupid, obviously! He was pretty smart, he just...didn’t apply himself. That’s what his teachers said, anyway. Right after narrowly missing him with a projectile chalkboard eraser. So, with the only grades he got being pretty low down in the alphabet, he was out on his ass with his high school front doors swinging shut behind him.
“So. Have you looked for a job, yet?” Lisa Lisa asked, stopping in traffic and releasing her grip slightly on the wheel of the car. His mother was the perfect image of the modern day business woman, scarlet suit jacket and skirt with ‘don’t fuck with me’ shoulder pads and louboutins that could probably slit a man's throat. That’s what she told him the shoes were called, at least. They just looked like regular heels to him.
Since he was about twelve, she was given the title (she was promoted, but it seemed a lot more like it was her coronation and she had become queen) of lead editor of US Chic, a vastly popular haute couture fashion magazine. She was home a lot less because of this, so Joseph was essentially raised by his grandmother, who he still doted on. “It’s been a few months since you left school.”
“I’m working on it, Lisa Lisa.” Never mom. No, mom made her feel old, and she wasn’t old. He wasn’t going to say he was devoid of love growing up (he got plenty from his Granny Erina), but she wasn’t a very affectionate woman. Loving, yes- she definitely loved him- but cold. “Don’t you worry your little head about it, I’ve got it aaaall under control.”
“By 'working on it', you mean sitting in front of the television set and stuffing your face with junk food?” Her face was a blank mask, impossibly to decipher her emotions save for the annoyed twitch of her eyebrows. “Don’t look like you have no idea what I’m talking about, I have my sources. I know you haven’t been looking.”
“I just have a very specific set of skills. Not everyone appreciates that, though.”
“JoJo, you haven’t even looked! How do you know if your vastly limited skillset isn’t going to be appreciated unless you look?”
To that, he merely shrugged, crossing his arms. He didn’t want to keep talking about it. He did so have it under control, he could get a job any time he wanted! Starting tomorrow, of course.
His mother continued."I have to make a detour, to work. It’ll take twenty minutes tops.” The traffic started to move again and Lisa Lisa fixed her attention on the road, shifting gears and driving at what seemed like a snail’s pace through the solid blockade of slow moving vehicles.
“What? You said you’d take me there straight away! What gives?” Joseph had agreed to meet Smokey at 10 at the arcade- apparently he’d found a broken machine that spat out a ridiculous amount of tickets whenever anyone played it. If they could commandeer it for the rest of the day, they would be able to afford the roller skates that his friend was so eager to get. Something about impressing a girl, because she was into roller derby. The next goal was to figure out how to rollerskate. One hurdle at a time.
As for any remaining tickets, Joseph could just get a snap bracelet, something to add to his shelf of ‘shit he doesn’t need but gets anyway due to a brief obsession or infatuation’ on his book case, underneath the Encyclopaedia Brittanica annuals Granny Erina gave him, and above the meticulously ordered comic books he possessed. Vintage all the way from 1940 onwards, a lot of which belonged to his father.
“Do you want to get out and walk? Because you can if you want. Just tuck and roll, I’m sure you won’t get too hurt- here, I’ll even slow down for you!” As if to prove a point, Lisa Lisa slowed down a fraction to an even slower snail’s pace.
Tempting.
Then again, waiting for a little while longer vs walking across the city after throwing himself out of his mother’s car, especially with how unexpectedly temperamental the New York traffic was? He’d take waiting over walking (limping) any day. Not that he was lazy of course, but…
Come on.
He just didn’t want to tuck and roll into oncoming traffic. He was reckless, but he wasn’t stupid.
“Just don’t take too long. I just know Smokey’s already waiting for me at the arcade.” Both because Smokey’s notoriety for his punctuality and the fact that he lived only ten minutes away from the arcade meant that he could be up and out of the house in five minutes, and still be waiting for JoJo for about an hour.
“I can’t promise anything. But, I’ll be in and out.” She said, and the traffic started moving smoothly, like a hot knife through butter. Which was probably an odd (yet appropriate) way to describe the sudden and unexpectedly fluid moment of the otherwise jam packed road of vehicles. The rest of the trip was spent listening to the radio station tune in and out of songs and the dulcet tones of the radio presenter talking to callers, or reading out news highlights. Joseph pressed his cheek to the window of the car, huffing out and creating fog. He drew a smiley face and then rubbed it out hastily when his mother scolded him about ‘getting finger marks over the window’.
Joseph Joestar’s mother worked in a high rise, a shining building rising from the ground like a tall shard of glass growing within a bed of concrete. Tall and spindly, it almost suited the statuesque models that were photographed and styled there. Lisa Lisa drove into the multi-story parking lot, parked her Rolls-Royce Silver Spirit in her marked space, and slid out of the front seat in a graceful, business-like fashion. Her louboutins clicked on the concrete paving as she turned to close the door, and waited with crossed arms for Joseph, who still sat in the car, almost in a daze. Lisa Lisa’s mouth curved into a light frown, and she walked over to the passenger side door, rapping on the glass by JoJo’s head and making him jump.
“Well? We haven’t got all day, JoJo. You certainly haven’t, as you’ve been telling me. Come on.”
With a grumble, Joseph dragged himself out of the car, shutting the door behind him and following his mother towards the elevator, and after that, trailing after her like a awkward, lanky duckling into the huge building.
Joseph hated this place. He hated this place because he felt so out of sorts, so out of place, like sticking a penguin in the Amazon. It was so bright, so clean and clinical, with beautiful people and their cold, judging stares, burning holes of contempt straight into JoJo’s temples. Of course, Joseph thought he was gorgeous, so it wasn’t like he felt self-conscious, or anything!
Absolutely not, obviously these assholes were misplacing their judgement, for some reason.
Maybe his shirt was the wrong shade of cerise. Perhaps his socks weren’t in this season. Fuck, he didn’t know.
The last time he had been here was when Grannie Erina took him to see Lisa Lisa during the summer holidays, back when he was about eleven. Back then, he hadn’t gone through his growth spurt and he still had his braces, so he looked every inch the little twerp. Not even the cute kind, more awkward and nerdy, with a sweater that didn’t quite fit him. Being an important figure’s son, everyone was civil to him, but even through his naivety JoJo knew that they were looking down on him. He knew.
Maybe he was still bitter from all those years ago, he knew he had nothing at all to worry about, really. He was hot as hell. He definitely wasn’t worried about what they thought.
“Wait in the reception for me. I’m sure there are some magazines that you can flick through if you get bored. If you need to go to the bathroom, ask the receptionist.” His mother was treating him like a child, what the hell. Like he needed to know how to get to the bathroom. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew people who would potentially disagree, but he was almost certain he wasn’t that stupid. The receptionist, sitting at the curved desk, typing seamlessly on the computer, stopped for a moment and looked up when Lisa Lisa started talking, flicking her eyes over from her boss to JoJo, giving him a friendly smile. It was a little unexpected actually, he didn’t think the people who worked here had any emotion other than spite and vanity. It looked like a friendly smile, at least. It might have been like a snake sizing up it’s prey, and trying to decide how wide it should dislocate its jaw.
Joseph looked around the stark room- minimalist, he was sure his mother would say-and frowned. All that was in the room was a desk (at which the young receptionist sat), two long, white couches and a low white table with a stack of the current fashion and lifestyle magazines piled onto the surface. “What, so you’re just leaving me here?”
“I can’t trust you in my office, there are too many things that shouldn’t be touched by grubby hands like yours.”
“Ouch, ” Joseph put a hand to his chest in mock offense, even though everything she said was true. He probably would mess something up in there, he didn’t have much regard for order, or...well, tidiness. “I would never do that.”
Lisa Lisa just rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’ll be ten minutes, tops. Wait here.” With a rhythmic clicking of her heels on the linoleum floor, she entered a corridor and left him standing there like an idiot.
Smokey was going to be waiting for ever . It was just a shame that he couldn’t afford a cell phone, because then JoJo would just be able to call him and tell him he’d be late. Then again, barely anyone that he knew had a cell phone, the only reason Joseph himself had one was because his mom bought it for him, because he was a cheap piece of shit. The young man huffed and turned to sit on one of the couches, leaning forward and picking up the top magazine from the pile on the table. A lifestyle magazine, some ‘good housewife’ bullshit, with the healthy portion of gossip thrown in for good measure. He only ever saw these magazines on stands at stores, his mother only ever brought the magazines she edited home with her, and Grannie Erina didn’t read magazines, full stop. Why read a magazine when she could read virtually anything else, she reasoned. She probably had a point.
He flicked to a page with recipes on, mostly ‘bikini ready body’ centric. Articles that claimed that he would get curves to ‘die for’ if he kept to the recipe plans for a month. Tempting as that might have sounded he was already very content with his current bikini body.
“That’s an old magazine, would you like one of the more current ones? I have some behind the desk...If you want one, that is.” The receptionist was leaning over the desk on her elbows, shiny new magazine in hand and eyebrows raised. “The things in that old one are a little outdated.”
“N-no!” He blurted out, completely caught unawares by the sudden voice on the other side of the desk. God dammit, JoJo. Be cool. “I’m fine. I’m busy learning about how to get the ideal bikini body, I don’t want to miss an important detail.” Idiot.
The receptionist giggled charmingly, and JoJo felt himself growing quite fond of the pretty blonde already. “Are you one of the newly signed models that Ms Lisa Lisa is supposed to be showing around?”
Model? Him?
Pfffff.
“ God, no. Do I really look that vain and conceited?” Sure, he thought he was remarkably handsome, and a great piece of arm candy for any lucky lady that he happened to take a fancy to, but vain? Don’t be ridiculous.
“Well...I wouldn’t really like to say.”
Oh.
“I’m...not vain or conceited. I’m her son.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Well. That was awkward. JoJo cleared his throat nervously and brought the magazine up to his face, hiding the subtle embarrassment beginning to show the more he dwelled on how tense the growing silence was, broken only by the ticking of the wall clock and the continued typing of the pretty secretary at her desk. Good job, asshole.
The time seemed to stretch impossibly, making that ten minutes seem like ten hours, whilst Joseph stared intently at the same wall of text for what felt like forever.
“That took longer than I thought, sorry.” He heart his mother’s voice and her heels click sharply down the hallway she had previously walked up, and JoJo felt relief flood his system. Thank fucking goodness.
“I thought you only needed to get something?” He stood up, dropping the magazine unceremoniously on the couch. “It’s been, what-half an hour! Smokey will have been waiting forever!”
“I will have you know that it was for your own benefit, JoJo.” His mother’s lips pursed, her face unimpressed, and she walked over to replace the magazine back on the pile where it once belonged, but not before looking at the cover. “Suzie, these are from last season. Could you please put the new ones out, when you have a moment?”
The receptionist-Suzie, JoJo noted- nodded, stopping her typing momentarily to reach under her desk and rifle around for what must have been newer magazines. “I will do that now, Ms Lisa Lisa!” Suzie put the new magazines on the surface of the desk, and stood to arrange them on the coffee table. Breaking his focus on the pretty girl, he drew his attention back to his mother.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, Joseph, that I’ve gotten you a job.”
“A job?” On the one hand, he did really need a job- both to get some sort of income and to keep himself busy- but on the other hand, a ‘job’ sounded incredibly suspicious.
“A job. You’re going to have an interview for a job here, as an intern.”
“No. No, no.” Joseph laughed in disbelief. Him? Working here ? Ridiculous! “No. Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“I’m a guy , men don’t work in fashion places! Not unless they’re...gay, or something!”
Lisa Lisa rolled her eyes hard enough that she had a 50% chance of getting whiplash. “Oh, for goodness’ sake. Plenty of straight men are into fashion, JoJo. Don’t be pathetic. Besides, a job is a job, don’t be so particular about what that job is-it’s not like I’m asking you to become a gigolo.”
“It’s really not that bad here!” Suzie interjected. “Everyone is nice to new interns, I remember when I started I was made to feel really welcome!”
“I don’t know…”
“Look, would you rather sit at home leeching off of me for your entire life, or do you want an opportunity to make your own money, for once?” His mother was quickly getting impatient. Probably best to make a decision now.
“Okay, fine. Fine. But don’t blame me if I don’t like it, this was your idea.”
Satisfied with that answer, Lisa Lisa’s red stained lips curved into a smile. “Good. Your interview is next week, so we need to go suit shopping, before then.” Thanking Suzie, she began to walk away, before stopping and looking back at JoJo again. “Now, we can’t keep your friend waiting, can we?”
Oh shit, right!
Joseph looked back at Suzie once, giving a quick two fingered salute and a wide grin, before following after his mother. He wasn’t sure if he heard correctly, but he could have sworn he heard the blonde girl reply with a “see you soon, JoJo!”
He kind of hoped that he would.