Forever Young
By DancingFluteSquirrelIt was a fact, Scipio was bored. He was bored with life, he was bored with his job, he was bored of being grown up.
It had started out okay, being a grown up was magnificently fun, but then, life went on, he got tired of his assistant job with Victor Getz, and he had gotten annoyed at all the things he had to go through as an adult. He had to shave his stubble every other day, pay the bills, get the mail, buy groceries by himself—and the worse, clean the house. Well, actually he didn't live in a house; he lived in a flat, a community of flats, only a couple blocks from Victors place (to make it easier for work). All the flats faced inward to a courtyard, and Scipio sometimes amused himself by watching the other Italians in the flats opposite him. He especially liked watching the eccentric pianist directly opposite. She was about 14 or 15, and had red/auburn hair that was curly and cascaded down her back in the most beautiful way—that was another thing. Even though Scipio appeared to be around thirty or forty, he really was nearly fifteen, and even though his appearance was older, he was attracted to YOUNGER girls—Although that wasn't to be said about the opposite gender. He had thirty-year-old woman asking him out to bars and fancy restaurants, and he was running out of excuses to not come.
He had adored the grown up life at first—the reason why he changed his last name to "Fortunato" instead of "Massimo." He had loved being able to walk around the dark streets at night without worrying about getting in trouble with his father, and he loved going to restaurants and not needing to worry about getting handed the children's menu.
…But, now that it had been nearly two years since being transformed, he. Was. Bored.
Scipio got up from his desk and stretched. He was really supposed to be shadowing a person for work—a suspected criminal, but, he just felt so out of it today. Maybe it was because he tasted champagne for the first time in his life (his father had never ever, ever let him taste the bubbly liquid). Anyways, the drink had tasted awful—just like dish soap, and it fuzzed in his mouth like mineral water (which he despised). He looked at his clock—a stolen antique from Barbarossa's shop. It was quarter to six, so he needed to get ready for dinner at Ida's house. He had dinner with Ida, Prosper, Hornet, Bo, and Victor (Everyone was still waiting for them to get married.) every once in awhile—just to keep in touch with his old friends. Although he didn't see Riccio and Mosca much. They were still living in the old warehouse, and didn't stay in contact unless they sent him a note in their scribbled handwriting, asking for him to buy a boat or some other expensive equipment, so that no one would call the police saying that there were to kids buying an expensive appliance, and they suspected they had stolen the money (which some of the time they had). So, Scipio would go and meet them somewhere and he would buy the boat, or computer or television for them (with their own money though, of course).
Scipio picked up his keys and headed into the cold evening—Although he was still bored with life.