The Golden Miners - Chapter 2: A Fun Day

Fugo woke up next to Giorno, who looked away but suddenly tossed in bed to face him. He still slept. This moment was unreal. They slept together in Minecraft, and now he was physically here in his bed. Instead of getting up, he continued to lie down there to admire his lover. Time passed while they lay together, and the light angled to shine on Giorno’s eyelids, arising him from his slumber. He woke to Fugo’s smile greeting him and placed his palm on Fugo’s cheek.

“Ah, so this is real,” Giorno said.

Fugo mimicked his actions. “Yeah, it is. I can’t believe it.”

Their faces got closer, and they kissed, embracing each other in bed. Fugo’s fingers brushed Giorno’s soft blond locks.

“My parents wouldn’t allow this.” Fugo sat on the bed, trying to figure out what had happened yesterday. “What did your dad do?”

“Convinced them.” Giorno sat, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m not sure how, though.”

Someone knocked on the door, startling the two out of bed. “It’s time for breakfast,” a servant said.

“I doubt they made food for you,” Fugo said. “You could finish mine.”

“No, it’s alright. Eat. Maybe we could get some ice cream. That probably sounds strange, huh? Ice cream in the morning?”

“Yeah, but I think some stores are open at 9:30 AM. Maybe it’s not that strange.” Fugo looked at the clock. “It’s only eight. Come on. Let’s get dressed and head downstairs. Judging from the aroma, I think the chef just baked something.”

They got dressed and headed to the dining table. To their surprise, the servants made breakfast for Giorno as well. Unfortunately, they had to sit with Fugo’s parents. The boys sat down, eating their brioches and sipping fresh orange juice in awkward silence. Fugo examined his mother, hoping to understand how she became less strict. A zit was on her forehead, but he thought it would be rude to point out and wasn’t looking forward to being chewed out in front of his boyfriend. Curious, he wanted to look at his father, but the newspaper he read covered his face. Fugo then looked at Giorno, who also looked at him.

“Finish quickly?” Giorno asked quietly.

Fugo nodded, and both started inhaling their food and drink, finishing in a few seconds. “Please excuse us,” he said.

The two got up and walked out of the dining room. Fugo peeped from the doorway to see their reaction, and they had none.

“Is it always like that at the dinner table?” Giorno asked.

“They usually talk about the news,” Fugo answered. “You still want to get some ice cream?”

He smiled. “Yeah! I’m thinking about getting two scoops—one chocolate and one pistachio. What about you?”

“I knew you were going to say that. I think I’ll get the usual.”

“Strawberry?”

“Yep!”

The boys headed out, walking the hot streets of Naples on a gorgeous sunny day. A little past 9:30, they found an open ice cream parlor and ordered the ice cream they said they were getting. They continued walking around Naples while eating.

“Fugo, where shall we head next? I was thinking about heading to Ovo Castle. It’s not that far off, right?”

The castle was a few walks away, and they were at the Rotonda di Via Nazario Sauro.

“If we walk south, we should see it,” he said. “Let’s head over there!”

They walked further down, where the Fontana del Gigante was, and bumped into Sheila, who was alone.

“Oh, hey!” she greeted. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We were heading to Ovo Castle,” Fugo answered. “Giorno wanted to see it. I could ask you the same thing. Where’s Trish, and how’s Clara?”

“She’s at home. She asked me to check if the roundabout was full of people. As for Clara, she’s still heartbroken. Let me just text Trish.” She brought out her phone and quickly texted her. “I asked her to come, but she said she’ll stay inside for now. Oh, that reminds me.” She looked at their ice cream. “It’s going to be blazing hot for a few days. I’ll need to buy ice cream. Anyways, can I come?”

“Of course!” Giorno replied.

They walked past the port of Santa Lucia and walked the pier to the castle.

“Wow, this castle is big,” Giorno commented.

They entered, and to the right was a large painting of the town back then. They explored the rest of the castle, but Giorno wanted to head to the top. There, they had a view of the city and Mount Vesuvius.

“That mountain right there is a volcano, isn’t it?” Giorno asked. “When do you think it’ll erupt again?”

“Not sure,” Fugo answered.

“If that ever happens, I hope I’m far away,” Sheila replied.

“Fugo, I just remembered something,” Giorno said. “Remember my lock screen? Will you take a photo with me? Sheila, do you want to take the photo?”

“Sure,” they both said.

Giorno handed his phone to Sheila before standing next to Fugo. They both smiled, and she took the shot, returning to phone to him. He set the photo to his lock and home screen.

“No offense, Giorno, but you look like a tourist,” Sheila commented.

“Aren’t I, though?” He wore a loosely buttoned off-white-colored shirt with light blue vertical stripes, black shorts, and the same sandals from yesterday.

“Yeah, but…” Her thoughts drifted. “We need to go shopping for clothes.”

He looked at his boyfriend. “Do I look bad?”

“You look fine, babe. But do you want new clothes?”

“Mother packed most of my clothes. I want to get rid of them.”

“I know a place.” Sheila smiled.

-

Trish was there when they arrived at the fancy clothing store. It was unexpected.

“She’ll help us,” Sheila said.

So many outfits were on display and looked costly. It was hard for Giorno to decide until he saw a dark green floral suit.

Trish noticed. “I don’t think green is your color.”

He looked at a mustard yellow suit.

“No, no yellow!” she commented. “Disgusting.”

“What about orange?” Giorno questioned.

“Nothing in this store is orange, but let me look.” Trish wandered the store.

“I have something orange at home,” Fugo said. “Maybe you can try that on once we get back.”

“But your clothes have holes in them,” he said.

Trish returned with a pink and dark blue outfit. Both of them had a boob window. “That should keep you cool. I wasn’t sure if you liked pink, so I got the blue one.”

“I like both. Let me try them on to see if they fit.”

Giorno took the clothes and headed to the fitting room. When he got out, he wore the blue one.

“How do I look?”

“Perfect,” Fugo replied.

“Much better now,” Trish commented. “Try on the pink one!”

He went back in to change and got out. “Okay, what about now?”

“Perfect!” Trish said.

“I think I prefer the blue,” Fugo replied. “You still great.”

“Guess I should change back to blue.”

“No!” Trish stopped him. “Wear pink, please! I came all the way over here!”

“I guess I’ll wear this,” Giorno said. “Am I going to pay this? Maybe I should’ve asked my dad for money before we left.”

“Since you paid for the fan art of our original characters,” Fugo began, “I’ll pay for clothes and anything else you want here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Fugo went up to him to kiss and hug him. “Now, where shall we do together?”

“I’m not sure,” Giorno replied. “Has anyone heard from Narancia and Mista?”

“Oh, those two?” Sheila said. “I texted them, and they said they were playing Just Dance. It’s been hours. Let me text them again.” She texted and got a response. “Wow, Narancia told me they were taking a bathroom break before playing Just Dance again.”

“They’re going to destroy their bodies at this rate,” Fugo commented. “Maybe we should check on them. Whose house are they playing it at?”

“Let me text him back. It’s Narancia’s house. He says we’re free to join him. Are we going?”

“We need to stop him. Let’s go!”

The four rushed to Narancia’s house. Narancia’s dad answered the door when Fugo knocked, face unexpressive.

“May we come in?” Fugo asked.

“Who’s the other blond?” He gave Giorno a dirty look.

“That’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh, I know who you are now! Dyed your hair blond, huh? Narancia did, too, until it got him into some trouble. Anyways, come on in, I guess. Don’t make a mess.”

They went inside and headed to Narancia’s room. Since Mista and Narancia played Just Dance together, Giorno expected his bedroom to be spacious. It was, but the messy state of it made it look cluttered. Clothes, old missing homework, and things lay on the floor. Sheila covered her nose for some reason despite none of the others smelling anything.

“Do you even clean your room?” Trish questioned.

“Sup!” Narancia greeted them while dancing to Beautiful Liar by Beyoncé and Shakira. His face was sweaty, and his hair clung to his skin.

“If you want to improve your dancing scores, I’d be best if you’d clean up,” Fugo suggested. “Seriously, this place is filthy! Mista, you don’t have a problem with this?”

“Busy!” he responded, focusing on the dance moves on the screen.

“I—Ugh!” Fugo stood in front of the TV.

“Fugo, move your skinny ass!” Narancia yelled.

“If I’m skinny, you should be able to see the screen.”

Mista stopped. “I think we should stop. I’m getting tired.”

“I’m not stopping! Fugo, move! Now!”

He crossed his arms. “Clean your room, now!”

Narancia growled. “You’re not my dad!” He lunged at Fugo and threw a barrage of punches. Giorno tried to get them away from each other, but Narancia ended up elbowing him in the eye and knocking him to the floor.

“You little bastard!” Fugo found a fork on the floor and stabbed him with it.

“Oh my gosh!” Trish said before covering her mouth.

“Guys, please!” Sheila begged.

Narancia’s dad busted the door open, furious. “What the hell is going on here?” He looked at the two boys who stopped fighting. “Fugo, do I have to tell your parents this? And Narancia, how did you get a fork in your face? How did this fight even start?”

“Honey, what’s wrong?” said a woman’s voice. She then appeared at the doorway. It was Mela. “Oh, goodness! Pink boy, is your eye okay?”

Narancia turned around to look at him. “Oh shit, Giorno, I had no idea. I’m sorry!”

His father sighed. “My boy, are you going to explain what happened here?”

He looked down, not wanting to face him.

Giorno noticed this and explained to Narancia’s dad what caused the fight. “Forgive me. I started it. I complained that his room was filthy and asked him to clean it up, but he was in the middle of the dance. I got impatient and blocked the TV, hoping he’ll clean it. Fugo didn’t like how Narancia kept ignoring me, and that’s when the fight started.”

“I knew you were trouble!” Narancia’s father scowled. “Fugo, since I don’t know how to contact his parents, I’ll contact yours!”

“Wait, sweetheart, how many times have you told Narancia to clean his room?” Mela asked.

“Well…” He tried to recall.

“As I thought. No, don’t call Fugo’s parents. Pink boy—”

“His name is Giorno,” Narancia interrupted.

“Giorno, thank you for telling my son to clean up.”

“You’re welcome. Can my friends stay here while I wait outside?”

“Outside? What for?”

“Am I still allowed in here?”

“Of course!” Mela looked at her husband. “Don’t you think you were being harsh towards him?”

Narancia’s dad looked at Giorno. “I’m sorry. I misjudged you.” He then paid attention to his son. “You better clean up right now.”

“Yes, dad.”

Narancia’s parents went away.

“You guys can play Just Dance while I clean up,” Narancia said.

“There’s not any room for us,” Trish said, inspecting Giorno’s eye injury.

“How are you going to explain that to your dad?” Mista asked. “He may be hot, but he’s scary.”

“Wait, you saw his dad?” Sheila asked. “What was he like?”

“Pale and his accent sounded British. Like Giorno, he’s also blond.”

“Wait, you heard a British accent?” Fugo questioned.

“You didn’t? Come on! He sounded like a foreigner.”

“I was enjoying my time with Giorno too much to notice. Hold on. Could I use your computer?”

“Yeah, of course!” Narancia replied while cleaning. He cleared the floors first in case his friends wanted to dance. “Can’t do anything else right now.”

Fugo sat at the desk, turned on the computer, and went on Google. “Alright, so, Giorno, your dad said he attended Hugh Hudson Academy, right?”

“Yeah.” Giorno stood next to him. “Are you looking him up?”

He stayed silent, focused on his research. “That’s in the United Kingdom. Oh my god, look at the tuition fees. I could probably attend there!”

“Oh my god!” Mista blurted. “Giorno’s British!”

Narancia gasped.

“Why are you guys freaking out?” Giorno asked. “I’m shocked, too, but it’s not a big deal.”

“Dude, your dad is British and is filthy rich,” Narancia replied.

“Yeah, I would start demanding answers,” Trish said. “But we should do something about your eye before he starts demanding answers too.”

“The floor is looking clean,” Sheila commented. “How about you worry about that later, and we all could dance?”

“We all can’t play,” Mista said. “Only that number of people can play. Luckily for you guys, Narancia and I are worn out.”

“You should see how good I am at this game,” Fugo told Giorno.

-

Giorno, Fugo, Sheila, and Trish danced for about an hour until they got tired. Mela came to check on them and brought them water. All of them had fun until Sheila realized the sun was setting.

“Hey, it’s getting late,” Sheila said. “We should probably leave.”

“Man, I don’t want to leave!” whined Mista.

“You can stay here, Mista,” Narancia said.

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

“What about us?” Sheila asked.

“Um, I’ll have to ask my parents,” replied Narancia. “Wait here a second.” He left his room and returned a few minutes later. “My parents said you can stay for the night but have to sleep on the floor. Oh, and we can’t blast loud music past ten. My dad has work tomorrow, and he needs to get up early. Giorno, is your dad fine with it? I already know Fugo’s answer.”

“I’ll have you know that my parents have changed completely,” Fugo said. “It’s all thanks to Giorno’s dad. I have no idea how he did it, but Giorno slept in my house last night.”

“Hoho! Giorno was in your bed?” Mista commented with a smirk on his face.

“Quit being weird!” he yelled.

“I’m just messing with you!”

“But I should call them just in case.” Fugo took out his phone and called them. The others, except Giorno, got close so they could hear. “Alright, they said I could stay for the night. One of the servants is getting our things.”

“Clara is coming by to get our things, too,” Sheila said. “I texted her a few minutes ago. She’s also getting us pizza. While we wait, what are we going to do?”

“Want to watch a movie in the living room?” Narancia suggested. “Oh, maybe we could all play a game when it’s over!”

“What movie will we be watching?” Trish asked.

“Mista and I watched Shrek a week before Giorno’s vacation, so how about Shrek 2?”

The others, except Mista, frowned.

“You guys have a serious problem with Shrek,” Fugo commented. “Seriously, how many times have you guys watched it?”

“Do not disrespect our lord and savior, Shrek!” Mista said. “I hope they come out with another Shrek movie.”

“I’ve seen so many weird artworks of Shrek and Shadow,” Trish said. “I hope they don’t.”

“So, we’re not down for Shrek 2?” Narancia wanted to confirm.

“Have you tried watching something else for once?”

“You still have the movies I brought you last time, right?” Mista asked.

“Yeah, I have two of your favorites: Pretty Woman and The Bridges of Madison County,” Narancia answered. “These movies aren’t something I’m into, but I’ll watch them for you.”

“Let’s just watch one. How about Pretty Woman? How do we all feel about that?”

“Sure, I’ll watch it,” Fugo said.

They went downstairs into the living room. Mista and Narancia sat on the couch, Trish sat on a loveseat and Sheila on a recliner, and Fugo and Giorno sat on the floor. Narancia put in the movie and turned the volume high while Mista closed the curtains and turned off the lights.

“Movie time!” Narancia said. “Sheila, is your sister here yet? I’m hungry.”

“Why would you want to eat my sister, weirdo?” Sheila joked, causing Trish to giggle.

“Hmm, I wonder what a human tastes like,” Mista commented.

“Just stop! Gross!” Fugo said.

A few minutes into the movie, Clara and Fugo’s servant brought the kids their things. Giorno had never seen Clara before, but the brunette woman looked miserable. Didn’t Sheila say she felt heartbroken? Did she break up with someone? He was curious but probably shouldn’t pester her and make her feel worse. Maybe he’ll find out later on some other day, but for now, it was time for Giorno to enjoy this movie.

After about two hours and 25 minutes, the movie ended.

“So, what did you all think?” Mista asked.

“I liked the movie,” Narancia said.

“I enjoyed it,” Trish said.

“Same,” included Sheila.

The blonds nodded their heads.

“Alright, is anyone down for a game?” Narancia asked. “I was thinking of never have I ever or truth or dare.”

“I think I’ll settle for never have I ever,” Fugo said.

“Yeah, I feel uncomfortable being forced to do something,” Trish said.

“Never have I ever it is. I’ll ask first.”

Everyone sat on the floor and got in a circle. Since Narancia started first, Fugo would be next, then Giorno, Mista, Trish, and Sheila, all in that order.

Narancia looked at Fugo. “Never had I ever had sex.”

The other sighed. “You only asked that because I told you Giorno slept at my house.”

Nobody put down a finger.

“Hmm, what a good question?” Fugo thought. “Aha! Never have I ever failed a class.”

“Come on!” Narancia cried out, putting a finger down. Mista also put a finger down.

It was Giorno’s turn. “Never have I ever cried myself to sleep.”

Sheila, Trish, and Narancia put a finger down.

“Mother got sick when she tried to find information about my dad’s whereabouts,” Trish said. “She got so gravely ill, I thought she would die.”

“My mother got sick too,” Narancia said. “What’s your reason, Sheila?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Sheila had a frown on her face.

“Never have I ever, um.” Mista thought deeply. “Cussed out a teacher.”

Fugo put down a finger.

“Never have I ever stolen anything,” Trish said.

Narancia, Mista, Giorno, and Fugo put down their fingers.

She gasped. “Giorno? Fugo? You guys stole something once?”

“Pickpocketing can be fun,” Giorno said.

“There are things that I want that my parents won’t give me,” Fugo said.

“My turn!” Sheila said. “Never have I ever faked being sick to avoid school.”

Narancia, Mista, and Fugo put down a finger.

“Never have I ever posted missed a gold move in Just Dance,” said Narancia. Fugo, Giorno, Mista, Trish, and Sheila put their finger down. “Wow, you guys suck!”

“No way you never missed a gold move,” Fugo said. “What about that time I blocked the TV?”

“There wasn’t a gold move, I think. If there was, I’m not counting that one. You sabotaged me!”

Fugo sighed. “I’m sorry about that. But, Mista, is this true?”

“I had never seen him miss a gold move when we played,” he said. He turned to Narancia. “I can see you being a dancer in the future.”

“Never have I ever forgotten my homework,” Fugo said.

Narancia, Mista, and Sheila put down a finger.

“This isn’t fair!” Narancia complained. “You’re picking things we’d do.”

“Yeah, man, you don’t have to win this,” Mista agreed.

“What do you want me to say?” Fugo asked.

“Something to let us win!” Narancia said.

“Four of my fingers are down! You two lost a whole hand! I’m right behind you guys! Anyways, your turn, love.”

Giorno noticed he and Trish had the same amount of fingers down, and Sheila had three. “Never have I ever poked my eye with an eyeliner.”

Trish put her finger down.

“Never have I ever worn lipstick,” Mista said. Giorno, Fugo, Trish, and Sheila put down a finger. Mista looked at the blonds. “I didn’t expect you two to wear lipstick.”

“It was a one-time thing,” they both said simultaneously.

“What color did you guys wear?” Narancia asked.

“Green,” Giorno said. “It was my dad’s lipstick.”

“I would describe it as a bright strawberry red,” Fugo said. “It went with an outfit I had.”

Before Trish could say anything, she whispered something to Sheila.

“Really?” the dark-haired girl said out loud, which earned a shhh from Trish.

“Never have I ever kissed a boy,” Trish said.

Mista, Narancia, Fugo, and Giorno put down a finger.

“I think you girls are planning something,” Fugo said, looking annoyed.

“We’re not,” Trish said.

“Never have I ever worn the wrong pair of socks,” Sheila said.

Trish and Narancia had their finger down.

“See, we’re not!” Trish said.

“Never have I ever gotten an answer right when called on,” Narancia said, smiling.

Everyone but him put down a finger.

“That is not something to be proud of,” Fugo commented. “Anyways, never have I ever paid for a World of Warcraft subscription.”

Trish, Sheila, Mista, and Giorno put a finger down.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting a question like that,” Trish said.

“Never have I ever kissed a girl,” Giorno said.

Trish and Sheila put their finger down.

“Never have I ever played Dark Souls,” Mista said.

Giorno, Trish, and Sheila had a finger down.

“Oh, this isn’t looking good for me,” Trish said. She had one finger up, but everybody also had one hand down. “Before anyone gets mad at me, I don’t mean sexually. Never have I ever slept with a boy.”

The blonds a finger down, causing the other two boys to giggle.

“Giorno and Fugo sitting in a tree,” Narancia sang. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

Fugo’s cheeks turned red. “Shut up, or I’ll kick your ass again.”

He stuck his tongue out.

“Never have I ever got into a fight,” Sheila interrupted before the two escalated into a fight.

They sighed, putting a finger down. Mista also put a finger down.

Narancia looked at Fugo, who gave a piercing stare. “Uh, never have I ever been tutored by a girl.”

Sheila put down a finger.

“Never have I ever had a fork in my room,” Fugo said.

“Dude, I let you win!” Narancia put a finger down.

“Never have I ever liked my mother,” Giorno said.

Everyone except Fugo put a finger down.

“Damn, now the lovers are fighting,” Mista commented.

Both had one finger up.

“Never have I ever been to an amusement park,” Fugo said.

Giorno didn’t put a finger down.

“Never have I ever been to a concert,” Giorno said.

Fugo didn’t put a finger down.

“Never have I ever read Harry Potter.”

“Never have I ever written fanfiction.”

“Never have I ever watched a Twilight movie.”

“Oh boy, they’re going to be at this for a while,” Narancia complained.

The couple went at it for a few minutes until it was Fugo’s turn.

“Never have I ever played Super Smash Bros,” Fugo said, causing Giorno to put a finger down. “Oh my god! Why did I bring up gaming?”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I don’t mind losing to you.”

The two kissed tenderly and briefly.

“You two need to get a room, my gosh!” commented Narancia. He looked at the clock. “Uh, we guys should quiet it down.”

“Agreed,” Trish said. “I’m getting tired. I’m going to brush my teeth.” She got up and headed to the bathroom.

“You guys go to bed this early?” Mista questioned, looking at Sheila.

“Got to maintain that sleep schedule,” she answered.

“What time do you normally sleep for school?” Fugo asked. “I suggest sleeping at that time. You’ll feel less like shit.”

“Could I at least have the TV on?” Narancia asked.

JOJOLands - Dragona's Theme (Music inspired by JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)

The Golden Miners - Chapter 1: The Gang Meets Giorno

Fugo awaited Giorno at the hotel he stayed. He waited for a few minutes, thinking he would take a while. The elevator dinged, and Giorno was by himself. Curious, he wondered where Giorno’s parents were.

“Panna!” Giorno embraced him. “We’ll be alone together. My dad trusts you to show me around. And—ugh, it’s so hot out! How can you stand it? No wonder why your outfit has so many holes.”

“I have an older friend whose shirts have a boob window. Have you tried that?” Fugo suggested.

His face turned red. He wore a white t-shirt, teal shorts, and sandals, dressed perfectly for the summer. “Ah, no. I feel like people will stare at me.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve seen what Trish wears. It gets hot here. Speaking of Trish, do you want to head over to Libeccio for lunch? That’s where we’re going to meet up. They’ve been dying to see you.”

“It’s lunch already?

“Nearing. Narancia said he wanted to discuss something. Have you had Italian food besides spaghetti and pizza?”

“Ah, no, I’m afraid that’s it.”

Fugo grabbed his hand and headed to the restaurant. “You should see what’s on their menu.”

“Wait, hold on!” Giorno said. “I need to text my dad where I’m heading to.” Before he could quickly text his dad, Fugo caught a glimpse of his lock screen, an old photo of him from his Tumblr.

“Want to make a new photo for your lock screen?” Fugo asked.

“Sure, but are you sure we should do this in the middle of the street?”

“Yeah, we should probably hurry.”

“Perhaps next time with a scenic background.”

They held each other’s hands as they hurried down the street. Libeccio wasn’t far from where they were, and when they got inside, the host sat them down with their friends.

“Wait, Fugo, is this Giorno?” Narancia asked. “I thought he had black hair. Seriously, did you dye it before coming here?”

“Yeah, this is him,” he answered. “His hair somehow turned blond while flying here.”

Mista laughed. “Come on, man. You believe that?! He so dyed his hair to impress you.”

“But it did happen.” Giorno frowned slightly.

“Mista.” Fugo’s brows furrowed.

“Well, whether he dyed it or just so happened to turn, I think he looks great,” complemented Trish, who noticed how defensive Fugo was.

“Narancia, didn’t you have something to say?” asked Sheila.

“Oh yeah! Guys, I think we should make a Minecraft YouTube channel. I haven’t thought of a name, though.”

“Just wondering, what about our channels? Also, we might get tired of Minecraft. Are we allowed to upload other games on the channel as well?”

“You guys can upload whatever you guys want on your channel.”

“Should we make a group account?” Trish asked. “Maybe Mista, you, or I could run it. We’ll need to make a Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram account.”

“Yuck, Facebook?” Narancia’s face grimaced. “Maybe if we want Boomers following us. As for the Twitter account, I have lots of followers, but I don’t think we should make a Twitter account for our group. Also, we still need to think of a name. Mista, have you thought of any?”

“How about La Squadra?”

“Sounds basic. Any other ideas, anyone?”

The table was quiet.

“The Golden Mob,” Giorno said.

Everyone’s ears perked up, and Fugo quickly shut his mouth.

“Careful when saying the word mob,” he told him. He removed his hand. “It’s a great name, but we can’t go around school telling everyone to subscribe to the Golden Mob.”

“Golden Miners? Because we’re miners and also minors.”

“Except me!” Mista said. “I’m 18. I like that name a lot. So, are we calling our channel that?”

“Let’s put a hold on it,” Fugo said. “We should start our channel when Giorno returns home.”

“No, let Giorno live here!” Narancia said.

“Do you know how long it’ll take for that to happen?”

“No. Can’t you just marry him?”

Fugo was in mid-drink when he said that and spat it out, accidentally getting Giorno wet. The two blonds blushed.

Fugo wiped him off with a napkin. “I’m so sorry.” Once he was dry, he faced Narancia. “We would have to wait for Giorno to turn 18, which would take three years. And first off—” Fugo heard Giorno’s stomach rumble. “Never mind. We’ll discuss Italian citizenship later. Giorno’s hungry, and it’s a long pain-in-the-ass topic to talk about. I’m thinking about getting the lasagne. Darling, what about you?”

“Spaghetti,” Giorno answered.

“Hmm, spaghetti? Don’t you want to try something different? Don’t you like octopus salad? They have it right here on the menu.”

“I had that before I flew to Italy. Maybe I’ll try it next time.”

A waitress came over and took everybody’s order. While they waited for their food to arrive, they made small talk.

“Hey, guys, I think I might have two channels,” Fugo said. “One will have my Twitch highlights, and the other will have my past streams. As for the group channel, it’ll mostly focus on Minecraft videos, but we’ll have other videos uploaded as well.”

“What’s the point of calling ourselves the Golden Miners if we aren’t strictly a Minecraft YouTube channel?” Narancia asked.

“People might lose interest in Minecraft one day. We need to grow and make different types of videos.”

“Do our channels have to be strictly gaming channels? I have some ideas,” Trish said.

“What you guys do on your channel is up to you, but our YouTube channel has to be strictly gaming.”

The waiter came back with their food. Giorno had spaghetti, Fugo had lasagna, Mista had a strawberry shortcake, Narancia had some pizza, and the girls shared some crab. They finished their meal quickly, hoping to spend time with Giorno.

“Hey, Fugo, where will you take me?” Giorno asked.

“Want me to take you to the Naples National Archaeological Museum?”

“I’d love to go there! Do you guys want to come?”

They left Libeccio and headed to the museum. When they arrived, hardly anyone was inside. They all quietly chatted while walking, however.

“No one’s here except for us,” Giorno noted. “Is that normal?”

“We’re too busy with school to come down here,” Fugo answered. “I can’t believe I never asked this before, but back when we used to help each other with our homework, how much time do you spend doing homework?”

“I’d say about four hours. Why?”

“No way!” Narancia commented.

“Oh man,” replied Trish, “we spend around seven hours doing ours.”

“Hey, guys, can we not talk about homework?” Mista asked.

“Yeah, I don’t want a reminder of how it sucks here,” Sheila complained.

Giorno could feel the tension from the group and tried to keep their minds off of school. “This statue in the middle of the room is shiny. Amazing.” He looked over to see a bust of a man and walked over to it. “Oh, and the details on this guy’s beard. Hey, how often do you see people with beards walking around?”

Trish stuck her tongue out in disgust. “Ugh, I hate guys with beards! It feels filthy.”

“How would you know? Did you kiss a guy with one?” Narancia inquired.

“No, but I see guys get food on their beards. Ugh! I think it’s a growing trend because there are a lot of guys now with beards.”

“Will you guys ever get beards?” Sheila asked the boys.

They shook their heads no and caused her to giggle.

They headed into the next room, where the Artemis of Ephesus caught Giorno’s attention.

“Wow!” He then headed over to the museum label. “The scrota? Oh. That’s what that was.”

“These are copies,” Fugo said. “I wonder where the original ones are at.”

Trish blushed, trying to avoid staring at the nude statues. “C-can we get out of here? This place is a sausage fest.”

Sheila walked over to a marble dog statue. “Aw, look, Trish, a puppy!”

She quickly stood next to her. “This is a much better view.”

The group continued exploring, walking down a hallway with more statues.

“Hey, you noticed how the naked statues of women try to cover themselves up?” Sheila remarked.

“Yeah,” Trish replied, “and the men are proudly showing off their junk.”

They were in the room with the sculptures from the Baths of Caracalla.

“Everything is huge,” Narancia said.

“Yeah, it’s probably cause you’re short.” Mista snickered.

“Don’t underestimate the little guys!”

Mista ignored him and looked at a statue of a naked man. “Damn, this guy has some cheekage.”

Narancia put a hand to his statue’s butt cheeks and giggled.

“Oh my gosh, will you two grow up?” Fugo complained. “I’m sure we aren’t allowed to touch the statues. Also, where’s Giorno?”

On the other side of the hall, Giorno was over at the Group with the torment of Dirce.

“Wow, this guy really is an Italophile,” Fugo heard one of them mutter.

He turned around, scowling. “What was that?”

“You’re lucky to find a guy like him,” Narancia answered. “Honestly, I think our culture is kind of boring, but this guy likes everything.”

Fugo approached Giorno and grabbed his hand. “Come on. We should check the other rooms.”

They went around the museum, admiring the old sculptures. Then, Giorno realized something.

“On the naked statues,” he began, “there were handprints of their asses. Do people touch the rears of these sculptures?”

Fugo looked at Narancia.

“Don’t look at me!” The black-haired boy blushed.

The girls giggled.

“Don’t go around touching people's asses,” commented Mista.

“You’re the one touching the statues’ breasts!” Narancia replied.

Everyone in the group started laughing, including Fugo.

Since they had seen half of the museum, they ascended upstairs to see what else was on display, which happened to be the mosaics from Pompeii.

“These floor mosaics are beautiful,” Giorno commented.

“I know, right?” Sheila agreed. “I want a giant kitchen with beautiful mosaic tile. What about you guys? Have you thought about your dream house?”

“I’d rather live somewhere small, away from my family and servants,” Fugo answered. “Giorno, what about you?”

“I haven’t given it any thought. I guess where ever you want to live.”

“Younger me wanted to live in the Barbie Dreamhouse,” Trish said. “I still do.”

“Oh, I think I know what you’re talking about,” Mista said to Trish. “Yeah, that house looks sweet. If you ever find something like that, can I live with you? I’ll clean your house as long as I can go down the slide whenever I feel like it.”

“I want to live with you guys too!” Narancia said.

“Hey, Trish,” Sheila said, “I think you’re going to need to find a bigger house than Barbie Dreamhouse if you’re going to live with those two.”

The group later completed the tour of the museum and stood outside.

“If I had gone alone, I probably would’ve been bored,” Fugo said. “This was fun. Guys, what about you?”

Everyone agreed it was fun.

“Seeing the sculptures reminds me of this guy I passed by a few months ago,” Mista said. “I think he was a sculptor because he had these statues near his house, but they seem like the people I walk past by. It’s not that artistic nudity crap we saw back there. That guy gave me the creeps.”

“Can we see him?” Giorno asked.

“What? No, I don’t want to see that guy.”

“Are you talking about Scolippi?” Fugo replied. “If Giorno wants to see him, we’ll see him. And Mista, you’re coming with us. I don’t remember where he lives. What will you guys do in the meantime?”

“I think we’re all going to head home,” Narancia answered. “My brain hurts.”

-

The three walked to the sculptor’s house. Scolippi lived in an old three-story house, where a few of his artworks greeted the visitors.

“That statue looks just like that one pissed-off guy who works at that ice cream parlor,” Mista commented. “God, it looks like he wants to kill me. I’m out!”

Fugo grabbed onto his shirt, stopping him from successfully running away. “You aren’t going anywhere.” He gave him a death stare. “We want to see how scary he is.”

Giorno knocked on the door to have Scolippi greet them. His hair was the color of lavender and adorned with metal clips, and he stared blankly at them.

“Hello, come in,” he said.

Giorno went in first, and Fugo had to drag Mista in. The three followed Scolippi to a room where he worked on his sculptures. Finished statues decorated his room, but they noticed an incomplete one. Despite its incompletion, Mista knew who it was.

“Isn’t that Bruno Bucciarati?”

“Who?” Giorno questioned.

“My parents got into a fight one day to the point they went to seek a marriage counselor,” Fugo said. “I was 13 then, but that’s when I met him. He tried to cheer me up even though I didn’t care if they were fighting. You might like him. Bruno’s friendly, and you might get along with him. However, he’s studying and trying to become a marriage counselor himself. Oh, and that’s the guy with the boob window.” He looked at the incomplete statue. “Nice work so far.”

Giorno looked at Scolippi. “Scolippi, right? I’m Giorno. I like your artwork. Just wondering, do you make fan art?”

“No, but I can. Why?”

“Could you make a sculpture of my original Assassin’s Creed character with Fugo’s?”

“You’re going to bother him with a request like that?” Mista asked.

“I’ve never done a request like that,” Scolippi answered Giorno. “I’ll need to see the details of these characters. Also, I need to know if you want a full body or bust and the size.”

“Wait, you can do that?” Mista questioned again. “Um, what if it's very detailed?”

“I can work with plenty of details, assuming I’m not under a time limit.”

Mista smiled and was no longer afraid of the sculptor. “Sweet! I might come here next time.”

“How much will this cost?” Giorno asked.

“Whoa, let me pay for it!” Fugo said. He then whispered to him, “You know I have lots of money.”

“You can’t ask your parents forever,” he whispered back. “Besides, my dad has a couple of euros to spare.”

“Wait, Giorno,” Mista interrupted them. “How are you going to bring it on the plane? We don’t even know how long it’ll take.”

“I’m not taking it home with me. I’m gifting it to Fugo.”

“What? Really? Giorno, you don’t have to.”

Giorno kissed him on the lips. “You’ve given me everything I ever wanted. It’s my turn to give something to you.”

Fugo embraced him, returning a kiss while Mista stuck his tongue out in disgust.

Scolippi cleared his throat. “I need to see the image and know what size.”

“Sorry.” Giorno showed him a picture of his original character along with Fugo’s. “Could you have them both about 15 centimeters? As for the money, I’ll need to call my dad.”

-

They waited outside for Giorno’s dad to come to Scolippi’s house. A taxi arrived, and Giorno’s dad stepped out. For some reason, he was shirtless, causing Mista and Scolippi to blush furiously.

“Dad, why are you shirtless?”

“It’s hot.” He then stared at Scolippi. “You must be the sculptor. I’m Dio. Here’s the money.”

“W-wow, thanks. After I’m done with my work, can I sculpt you?”

Dio laughed. “Of course, you can. Do I have to pay for it too?”

“Oh, no. It’s free. On the house.”

“I thought you sculpt people without their permission,” Mista said.

“They don’t mind,” Scolippi replied. “Anyways, it’ll take some hours for me to complete the request.”

“Hey, Giorno,” Mista whispered, “you never told me your dad was hot.”

“My dad’s married,” he whispered.

“Tell him to get a divorce!”

“No!”

Dio approached his son. “It’s starting to get dark out, and it’s been a very long time since I’ve been here. Last time I visited, it wasn’t safe out.” He looked at Fugo. “And this must be the boy you love. I’m curious. What does your home look like?”

“I live in a mansion,” Fugo answered. “I don’t think my parents will let you in, though. They’re strict.”

“I want to see your house. We don’t have to go in. Will you show us?” Dio asked.

“Okay.”

“What about me?” Mista questioned.

“I’m sorry. There isn’t enough room,” Dio answered.

The blonds got into the taxi with Fugo sitting in the front, giving directions to his mansion. While in the car, Dio asked Fugo a few questions.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Dio asked.

“What do I want?” Fugo repeated. “I don’t know, honestly. My parents want me to be a lawyer, but I don’t know what I want.”

“Oho? I’m a lawyer.” He smiled.

“Where did you study?”

“I attended Hugh Hudson Academy and graduated as the top student. My brother was an archaeologist. We were good at rugby. With my brains and his brawns, we were unstoppable.”

“Brother?” Giorno interrupted. “Wait, I didn’t know I had an uncle. How come you never mentioned this before?”

“Did I say that?” His smile died. “It doesn’t matter. He’s dead.”

“Dead?” Giorno sounded shocked. He frowned. “What was he like?”

“He was—”

“We’re here,” the Taxi driver interrupted.

“This is my house,” Fugo said. “What do you think?”

Dio got out. Confused, Giorno and Fugo got out too.

“Almost reminds me of home,” Dio commented.

Fugo looked at Giorno. “Is your dad secretly rich?” he whispered.

He shrugged. If he was, why did they live in Tokyo?

“Come. I want to meet your parents,” Dio said.

They approached the mansion, and Dio rang the doorbell. One of the servants opened the door and then closed it to fetch Fugo’s parents. Later, Fugo’s parents opened the door, glaring at their child and then looking at the shirtless man. Both of them blushed.

“W-who are you?” Fugo’s mother asked.

“I’m Dio Brando, a lawyer. Next to me is my son, Giorno. May we come in?”

“Of course!”

“Darling, I don’t think we should let them in,” Fugo’s father objected.

“We can’t turn them away!”

“Excuse me, may we talk somewhere more private, away from the children?”

“I suppose so,” Fugo’s mother answered.

“Mother?” Fugo looked at her.

“Go upstairs to your room. Now. Take your friend with you.”

Fugo took Giorno’s hand and brought him to his room. His room was more spacious and had a lot of expensive-looking furniture, and he even had a bathroom. However, instead of playing a game, they lay on the double bed, discussing what happened.

“Your dad just convinced my parents to let you in,” Fugo said. “What’s up with that? They’re so strict.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Giorno replied. “Dad has never spoken about uncle before. I wonder what happened.”

They cuddled in bed.

“I wonder if it was something horrible that he didn’t want to describe,” Fugo said. “Wait, how much do you know about your grandparents on your dad’s side?”

“I know nothing. I’ll ask my dad about our family next time.”

Someone knocked on the door, and the boys sat straight on the bed.

“Yes?” Fugo responded.

“Your parents allowed Giorno to stay for the night,” said the servant behind the door. “His father is fetching his things.”

Fugo looked at Giorno. “What?” he whispered.

“I-I don’t know. I guess your parents aren’t as strict as you thought.”

Fugo wasn’t sure what was happening, but he accepted it. He was hoping Giorno would stay, and somehow, his parents let that happen, but he felt like Dio must’ve done something.

“Well, if my parents had become less strict, you want to get something from the kitchen? We have a lot of leftovers. The chef could make you something if you don’t like anything.”

“You have a chef? Well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Let’s go!”

They rushed downstairs to the kitchen, enjoying the night together.