The obligatory Starbucks trip
Starbucks.
Caesar had heard of it: it was a place everyone who went to England or America had to go. Apparently they served some special kind of coffee that wasn't actually coffee but more like a mix of everything possible, sans coffee.
They also wrote your name on the cup.
Everybody was crazy for it, well, except Caesar. He never got the appeal of Starbucks, but since Joseph wanted to go so badly he decided to give it a shot anyways.
He immediately regretted his decision when he saw the crowd of people who were still waiting to be served. How long was it going to take before it was their turn?
Caesar leaned towards Joseph, whispering:
- Are you sure you want to do this? -.
- Yeah, man -, the other replied, - Look, we are lucky, last time I came here there were people even outside -.
Caesar sighed; he couldn't do anything else now apart accepting that it was going to be a long waiting.
It felt like an eternity had passed, but finally it was their turn to order.
The funny part was that Caesar still hadn't decided what he wanted. There was a big menu on the wall, but they had written only the name of the drinks and their cost so Caesar had no idea about what the hell most of those things were.
- A caramel macchiato -, Joseph said to the cashier.
- For who? -.
- The one and only Joseph Joestar -, he said, making Caesar sigh.
Why did he have to be like that?
- And you? -, the cashier said, looking at Caesar.
Merda, he still hadn't decided.
He could have asked for some explanations, but he wanted to be quick; it was also really noisy so he wasn't even sure he would have been able to understand everything he said.
- I take the same -, he said.
If Joseph took it, it couldn't be that bad, right?
- For? -.
- Caesar -.
They had to wait a bit more but eventually they finally got their drinks.
Joseph had insisted on finding a table were they could sit around and Caesar complied; he didn't really care about where they were going, so remaining there for a little longer was fine.
Fortunately a couple just left, so they were able to take their place.
- I can't believe it -, Joseph said, - That moron wrote my name wrong! -.
- What did he write? -, Caesar asked.
- Joseph Jostar! He forgot "the one and only" and also spelled my surname wrong -.
- Maybe if you just told him your name, he would have gotten that correctly -, Caesar replied, quite amused.
- But then it isn't funny anymore! -, Joseph retorted.
Living with him all that time, Caesar had come to the conclusion that there was an actual five year old boy inside Joseph; that would explain a lot about him.
- You still haven't tried it -, Joseph said. He had almost finished his caramel macchiato.
- What? Ah, right -, Caesar replied, looking at the cup he was still holding in his hand.
… Was it too late to change idea?
He was sure it was great, but looking at it… it seemed so sugary, and Caesar didn't really love sugary things that much.
He couldn't redo the order, though. It was also a pride matter, now: he had chosen what to have and now he couldn't do anything but to take it.
It was just a Starbucks drink; it wasn't going to kill him.
He finally gathered enough courage and he tried that damn caramel macchiato and… yeah, it was exactly as he thought.
It wasn't horrible, but just… he missed the good old plain coffee he had at home; he would have given anything to have even just a sip of it.
- It's great -, he said, without even trying to sound convincing.
- You're a terrible liar -, Joseph replied, smirking.
Caesar shrugged.
- Only if I don't put enough effort in it -, he said.
- If you say so -.
- Stop -.
- Stop what? -.
- Being a smartass -.
- But you love it, don't you? -.
Caesar sighed; of course he liked it. It was part of why he did those "things" with him in the first place, but he definitely wasn't going to admit it, especially not in front of him.
- No -, he said.
- Next thing you're gonna say is "it's irritating actually" -.
- It's irritating actually… what the hell? -, Caesar said.
He didn't know if he was supposed to be angry or impressed for that. He didn't recall that Joseph was able to read minds.
- I knew you'd say that -, Joseph said, - But I also know that you don't really mean it -.
- Why don't you just finish this for me and shut up? -, Caesar asked, handing him his cup.
He wasn't going to finish it but he also didn't want to waste it; that seemed the perfect compromise.
- Are you sure? -, Joseph asked but he didn't even wait for Caesar to answer.
- How do you survive in Italy without this? -, he asked then.
- Well, you know, drinking actually coffee and not this shit -, Caesar retorted.
- Just coffee? -, Joseph said, - So boring -.
- At least it's good, but what do you know, it's not like what they make here is actual coffee -, Caesar said, - You know how we call that? Water -.
Joseph shrugged.
- Well -, he said, - At least now I have an excuse to come to Italy -.
As stupid as it sounded – who would ever visit a country just for the coffee – Caesar wasn't really against it: there were many things about Italy that he would have loved to show him, but in reality he just wanted an excuse to spend some more time together.
He put his hand on top of Joseph's one and gave it a little squeeze.
Joseph looked up to him and he smiled.
- And what if I don't want you in Italy? -.
- C'mon, of course you want me -.
- … Yeah, you're right -.
Author's notes: no Starbucks' drink were harmed while writing this story