Hello! This chapter comes to you while I am wrestling two cats off my lap because they are obsessed with standing on me the second I do anything with my laptop.
Also there are like ten Italian people in this chapter and they're all men in their thirties so I straight up Googled 'popular Italian names for boys across the last thirty years' and chose from that list. Gotta say, my favourite is Elia, such a lovely name.
Love, Cam
♡
****
I was a thousand percent being a little bitch. I was snapping at everyone; I had practically driven Raven out of the communal areas of the flat because she was so sick of my attitude. It was getting to the point that Jasper was giving me subtle hints that he wasn't pleased with my snippy retorts.
Group Chat: My Family and Other Animals
Members: Ross, Jasper, Tom, Raven, Edward, Harper, Jenny, Lucie, Rory and Cyri
Jazz: anyone wanna go see the new James Bond
tomtom: no
Jazz: anyone else wanna go see the new James Bond?
tomtom: i've heard it's shit anyway
Jazz: all the reviews say it's pretty good!
tomtom: whatever
Jazz: oKAY Tom I get that you're pissy cause your boyfriend moved away but i stg
Jazz: if you don't get your shit together
Jazz: I will come over there and i will steal your fucking coffee supply and i will empty it down the sink
Jazz: dont think i wont
tomtom: excuse me for having feelings
Jazz: feelings are fine
Jazz: being an emo little shit is not fine
RossStone: He's not wrong, Tom. You're being a twat and you know it. Stop being bitchy to us, we haven't done anything.
Edward: you need a shot of a coffee liqueur or something
Harper met me later that day for lunch. I knew I was in trouble when he walked in without smiling.
"Please don't say the others sent you to kick my arse," I sighed.
Harper eyed me with The Look, the one I knew I wouldn't escape from even if I tried, and I deflated into a chair. "Fine," I said, gesturing for him to sit opposite me. "Hit me with it."
Harper snorted and sat down. "You are being a dick."
"I know," I grumbled.
"Well, then stop it," he said sternly. "It's bloody annoying, and we're only trying to support you."
I felt the guilt hit me in the stomach and mumbled, "I'm sorry."
"Good," he replied archly, and then sighed. "Look, I know me, Ross, and Ed aren't exactly the role models we'd like to be when it comes to emotional adjustment, but I was kind of hoping that your having a stable family and an awareness of mental health would balance that out."
I gave him a small smile. "I don't know, you're all very bad role models."
Harper scoffed, but smiled. "Just talk about it, Tom. Just talk it out. Without being a cunt."
I leaned forward to put my head in my hands and said, "I don't know what to say. Or if it'll even help. I just miss him, and I hate long-distance relationships, and I don't know if I made the right choice in staying. I don't know if I did it because I'm genuinely happier here, or if I'm just scared of committing to a move that big."
Harper considered it, and said, "Honestly Tom, I think you made the right decision and it was based on a gut instinct. But if you're that conflicted about it, why don't you go and visit him?"
I pouted. "He's very busy."
"So?" Harper asked. "Go to his work with him, it's technically your work too, really. Have a look at the job, have some time by yourself in Italy while he works, and see him when he's finished at work. You don't have to be glued to his side the whole time. Just go visit him."
I searched for another excuse. "The others need me right now."
"Cinzia's just started," Harper shrugged. "And you said yourself that your workload is a bit lighter since she came on."
"Yeah, but it's still heavy," I replied.
Sighing, Harper said, "Then go on Friday evening and come back on Monday or Tuesday. It's not exactly a long flight, you're only a couple hours away."
"But-" I started.
"No," he said, cutting me off. "I'm sick of hearing excuses that are flimsy at best. You're putting off going out there because you're scared you might really like it and want to stay, and you're also scared it might confirm your wishes to stay here and then you've got to adjust to long-distance."
I glared at him. "Can you stop being accurate, please? It's very hard to work up a good sulk and be difficult when you're being so reasonable."
"Should've gone to Ross," he snorted.
I took a deep breath. "I'm scared of it bombing. University sucked ass for me, Harper, and I dealt with it by going to Jasper when we were both vulnerable and then that sucked ass because we needed healthier coping mechanisms than fucking each other. And then being in Brighton again sucked even harder because it wasn't somewhere I'd chosen to be, it was something I returned to because I had failed at something."
"You didn't fail at anything," Harper said sharply. "And you're not failing now. You made a choice to change your life and you did, and you're loving it. Your home is somewhere you've chosen to be."
"I know," I sighed. "But that's just it. My home was in Brighton, and then I fucked it up and made it into somewhere I was trapped by my own pointless insecurities. Now my home is London - what if I go to Italy and it falls apart, and then I have to come back to London? Won't I have just made that into something bad?"
"No," Harper replied simply. "You went to uni because you felt it was the thing you were supposed to do, not because you really wanted to go to uni. It was always going to be something that sucked, because your heart wasn't in it. That's why, when you go to visit, you'll weigh up all the pros and cons and come to an informed decision. You'll know what you really want to do after you've seen what your life could be there. You'll have the information you need to really know. You'll make a wiser decision."
I sighed. "Why is life so complicated?"
"Because humans are very complicated," Harper smiled a little and reached over to ruffle my hair affectionately. "Look, Tom, I'm not going to sit here and claim to be the sage leader of healthy relationships, just look at me and Edward. But I took the scary step to make the relationship better. You should do the same. Don't let your insecurities and indecision get the better of you, Tom. You and Angelo are a good couple. Don't waste that."
I sighed. "Ever get tired of being the wise friend?"
"Please," he snorted. "For years, my closest friends were Ross and Edward. It wasn't exactly a high bar."
*****
I decided to make the trip a surprise. I had all of his details; he was staying in an apartment about an hour away from the airport. I booked a car rental for while I was there, and managed to get a decent deal on a last-minute flight thanks to a cancellation. All in all it was costing me less than two hundred quid. I flew from London into Linate airport in Milan. It felt weird to me, being able to just suddenly book a cheap flight and a few hours later, be in Italy. I hadn't travelled very much in my adult life, much less alone, and I quickly discovered that I was an anxious traveller, always double-checking everything to make sure I arrived on time.
The first thing that hit me as I left the airport was how bloody warm it was. I checked my phone to see it was 25 degrees and I was baking. I saw Italians walking around in jeans and t-shirts with jackets on, looking as though it was a relatively mild day, and realised that as someone who was English and spent ninety percent of their time in an overcast, rainy environment, I was hideously unequipped for the summer here.
Still, I managed to pick up my car, glad I chose an automatic because it was strange enough dealing with everything being the opposite way round in the car, plus driving on the other side of the road, let alone dealing with changing gears with my right hand. I dreaded my first experience of a roundabout here. Somehow, though, I managed to pull out of the car park and onto the road, having set up my Google Maps to find Angelo's office, where he'd be now.
I was starting to have doubts. Would Angelo be happy to see me? Would he think it was a bit ridiculous, me coming all this way just for a few days so soon after he left? He'd only been gone a few weeks. This probably would look really over the top and needy. I grimaced at the thought, but it felt even more ridiculous to turn around and just leave straightaway. I kept driving, and fortunately the process of driving on the opposite side of the road was weird enough to keep me fully engaged with the drive the entire way, not leaving me very much time to think about my plan's downsides. It felt incredibly wrong that I didn't need anything but my English driver's license to drive a car in Italy. I was a liability and I knew it. Three cars overtook me at one point because I was driving so cautiously.
On the upside, I did learn some excellent new Italian curse words.
"You will arrive at your destination in two kilometres," the GPS told me.
My stomach clenched with nerves. I wanted this to go well, but I was now sweaty, nervous, and agitated. And, hilariously, struggling with a bout of caffeine withdrawal.
After what felt like the longest two kilometres in the world, I pulled up to a building site car park. It looked like the foundation was underway, with workmen currently constructing what I assumed to be support beams. There were a few makeshift offices, little rooms on wheels that I figured Angelo would be in. I parked the car and got out, nervously pulling on my shirt, straightening it. I was warm, but there was a breeze here, and I was very grateful for it.
"Mi scusa? Come posso aiutarla?"
I then, much too late, realised I knew very little Italian.
I looked sheepishly at the broad, tanned man approaching me and said, "Mi scusi, non parlo bene l'italiano."
The man grinned at me. "English?"
Slightly ashamed that my country was so well-known for not learning a single language outside of our own, I nodded and said, "Yeah."
"No problem," he said, his accent thick. "Most of us speak English. You need directions?"
I realised that I looked like a lost tourist. I smiled in what I hoped wasn't a very manic nervous way, and said, "No, I'm here to see Angelo Colosanto?"
Realisation dawned on his face. "Ah, you're one of the team in England? Ian? Chris?"
"Tom," I clarified.
The realisation gave way to confusion, and he examined me closely. "You are very young," he said, as though that was a very confusing thing for me to be. He saw my expression and hastily said, "We just all pictured you as older, because Angelo is older. Sorry, that was rude of me."
"No, it's fine," I quickly said. "I am the youngest in the office."
"Well, he's in a meeting at the moment," the man said, checking his watch. "But he will be done in fifteen minutes. We're on break, you can meet the crew. You like caffè?"
I knew that word. I nodded enthusiastically. "You have no idea."
Laughing, he extended his hand. "I'm Francesco."
We shook hands warmly and he led me into the building site. We walked around it, given my lack of safety equipment, towards a group of benches and tables. There were roughly ten guys sat around, chatting or scrolling on their phones, and all of them had coffee. I had found my people.
"Everyone," Francesco called in English. The others looked a bit confused at the sound of it, but caught sight of me and seemed to understand before Francesco even continued. "This is Tom, from the England office. Tom, this is Marco, Antonio, Michele, Bruno, Mattia, Lorenzo, Guiseppe, and Elia."
"Hi," I greeted them, wondering where the fuck my social skills had sodded off to. I prayed that my excellent memory skills would hold up for names.
Francesco asked me, "Latte?"
I knew enough to know latte meant milk, and I said, "No, just black."
"Caffè nero it is," he replied, and leaned over to grab a thermos. "When are you due to see Angelo? He didn't mention you were coming."
I awkwardly admitted, "He doesn't know, I uhh, came to surprise him. I have the weekends off, so I thought I'd visit. I've never been to Italy."
I hoped that they wouldn't think it was weird for a coworker to surprise another coworker on their weekend off by flying to another country, as I had no idea if they were aware of my relationship with Angelo. They didn't seem bothered by the thought, all of them immediately suggesting things to see while I was here.
"You'll have to get him to show you around Milan," Marco said, sipping his coffee. "Lots to see. Il Duomo is beautiful."
"Shame you miss opera season," Elia told me. "La Scala runs opera until May. Expensive, though."
Mattia snorted and looked at me. "Ignore them - it is beautiful but what you really want is Naviglio, it's the canal, it's got bars and clubs along it. And galleries, before you all call me uncultured."
They laughed good-naturedly, and Francesco handed me my coffee. I inhaled the scent of it deeply, relishing the smell, and drank about two thirds of it without caring how scalding it was. When I opened my eyes again, everyone was looking at me in concern.
"He did mention you like coffee," Francesco allowed, and then looked over my head at one of the mobile rooms. "They are out early. Angelo!"
I barely had time to brace myself when I heard, "Si?"
"Visitor," Francesco grinned, and I turned to shyly wave at him.
Angelo looked damn good. He was in casual clothes, which I didn't often see him in, but made sense for a building site in the heat. I gaped at the sight of him in shorts and a t-shirt, his strong arms exposed to the sun. He had already caught the sun, his skin darkening to the colour I had only seen in photos of his teen years. He looked beautifully effortless as usual.
And he was staring back at me, baffled by my presence, looking as though he didn't quite trust I was there.
I held up the coffee cup. "I like your crew, they gave me coffee."
The others laughed at the words and Angelo's facial expression. He broke into a huge lazy grin and held out his arms to me. "Come here."
I jumped up immediately and threw myself into his arms, suddenly not caring if the others didn't know we were in a relationship. He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around me, taking a deep breath.
"Good surprise?" I mumbled into his shirt, my face buried against his chest.
"Best surprise," he sighed happily, and then pulled away just enough to tilt my face up and kiss me firmly. I heard wolf whistles behind me and laughter roaring from the others, and blushed hard, my face heating up, but it sure as hell didn't stop me kissing him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and his hands wound around my lower back, his hand resting there possessively.
Francesco cleared his throat loudly, and Angelo pulled away reluctantly to look at him questioningly. Francesco grinned and said, "He's younger than you said."
Angelo blushed a little and said, "I technically never said his age."
I grinned. "Someone embarrassed of their boy-toy?"
Angelo groaned, pulling my hair a little. "You've been here for five minutes and you're already teaming up with them? Horrible."
His hands never left my body, holding onto the fabric of my shirt as though I was going to disappear if he let go of me. "How long are you here for?" he asked me happily.
"I leave Monday," I smiled. "Got to get back for the others."
"We'll make the most of it, then," he beamed, and turned to Francesco. "I'm leaving early today."
Francesco rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course you are," he said, but smiled to show he was joking. "Alright, but make sure he sees more than your bedroom ceiling."
Angelo's blush deepened, and I gleefully suspected he was absolutely planning on only showing me his bedroom ceiling.
*****
Francesco: Tom said he's been pining for you
Tom: I... I have known you for five minutes, why would you do me like this?
Francesco: It's okay, Angelo hasn't shut the fuck up about you since he got here.
Angelo, in Italian: I stg I will move back to England-