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.