Chapter Text
(Giornos Pov)
The fluorescent lights of the office burned my eyes, in the still dark hues of the morning sky. The carpet solid and rough under my dress shoes, the surrounding desks lonely and bare, the air heavy and sour as it nested into my lungs. Sickening yellow walls haunt me in every sense of fashion and design. The door to the head office - once belonging to the boss, was hung open. The space is just as vacant as the rest of the desolate room.
I make my way into the boss’s office, my office.
The previous boss was a wretched man, too small for such a large seat. His permanent leave from the agency beamed like the welcome sun on a gloomy day or a bright rainbow after the cold showers of may. The place he formerly stood now lacking, in need of another and who else was to take his space than one who worked at his side. A right-hand man now in the spot of a leader.
As someone who experienced the pain he caused in the wake of his time, I vow to make it a safe place for my co-workers who had been with me and to those who come after. The room quickly filled up with my belongings as I made the office my own. My name ‘Haruno Giovanna’ was posted on the door to the office, something the old boss under no circumstances did.
I hear a gentle knock at my door just before I’m about to take my seat. “Hey, Boss,” a soothing voice called to me in a teasing manner. I shift my head to face my friend from the office, Bruno Buccillati. He was a tall man with jet-black hair, his suit was crisp like it had just come from the dry cleaners. His suit jacket and pants always include bizarre patterns on them, I often wonder where he finds them. Today he wore a white suit with smudged black dots on them, his dress shirt was black and so was his tie.
“So how does it feel to run a whole company?” Bruno asked.
“To be completely frank with you, I’m freaking out right now,” I say with my eyebrows sewn together. There was no point in lying to him, he had a knack for sniffing them out.
It was true, while I’m thrilled I got the position and yes, It was my dream to one day run this agency. I didn’t think I would be the boss at 19, I barely started working here a year ago. There are people who are way more qualified than me, Bruno was one of them. He had been working here for over 5 years, but when he was offered the position he turned it down. I will never comprehend the way his brain works, but to me, that seems absurd.
Another man named Jean Pierre Polnareff had been working here just about as long as I, but he was much older and more experienced than me. He was a fascinating man who travelled the world before settling in Italy, he told us about his adventures in Egypt, Japan, America, Korea, Grease, Switzerland and even India. But his favourite was to talk about France and his hometown, he told us memories of his little sister before tragedy fell upon her, he kept a photo of her on his desk.
Polnareff sympathized with me, as neither of us was Italian by genetics. But it was much less noticeable for him, he was tanned but caucasian non-the-less. It was only till he spoke in his thick french tongue, it was noticeable that he wasn’t Italian. It was a much different situation for me, it was clear to people I wasn’t full Italian - Japanese through my mother and British through my father. But I’ve lived in Italy almost my whole life, yet people still treat me like a foreigner or a tourist.
“I’m confident you’ll do just fine,” Bruno said, pulling me from my thoughts, his voice strong and confident. “That is why they gave you the position after all.” His simple words relaxed me for a moment, but I know the feelings will be quick to return.
Bruno placed a small stack of papers on my desk and went to leave. I began looking through the full pages of small font, thankfully I was abruptly interrupted by Bruno. “Oh and Haruno, just to confirm, you are coming to my place tonight? All the others will be there,” His voice raised in a sing-song way at the end. It sounded like peer pressure the way he stated it.
It was true, while I considered Bruno ‘just a work friend’ we actively get together on weekends or after work, sometimes with our other friends, sometimes just us two. Five other friends were in the mix, one of them just so happened to knock at my door.
Pannacotta Fugo, a slim man, the same height as me, his platinum blond hair neatly gelled back. Unlike me and Bruno who both worked in sales, Fugo worked in accounting. He’s one of the hardest working people in the office and I really admire him for that, all though he has a violent and mostly unpredictable anger. Some of his triggers include; disturbing him when he’s working, criticizing him, what he refers to as ‘idiot syndrome’, and most importantly calling him by his first name - that’s why we all call him Fugo.
“Morning, Haruno,” he addresses me with a cheerful tone but no smile was present on his face.“I finished the papers you needed, I condensed it as much as I could.”On my desk now sat a stack of over 40 papers, it was hard to believe this was condensed.
“And Haruno, can I assume you’re coming tonight?” Fugo asked just before he was about to leave.
I gave a nod before speaking, “Yes, I will be there.”Fugo offered me a similar nod back and left my office to make way to his own workspace. My attention was now brought back to Bruno, who seemed to have got the answer he required.
“Great, I’ll see you after work then. Think of it as an informal congratulation, on your new position,” Bruno said with his signature warm smile, “You have a lot of work to do, so I’ll get out of your hair.”
And just like that, I was left alone in my office. With the piles upon piles of work I have been handed.
The day was long and frustrating, but hardly over. I go home before making my way over to Bruno’s place, Fugo does the same.
The front door is unlocked which means my roommate and crush, Trish Una is home. She sat on the couch ready to go, clearly waiting for me. Her vibrant pink hair pulled in curls and waves, held together by hairspray. She wore a tight black crop-top and a long pink and yellow skirt with a slit up the side, making it much less modest.
“Ready to go, just waiting on you,” Trish stated the obvious. Trish thought of herself as a pop-star - while yes, she did make music, she was hardly what I would consider a famous pop-star. It was still charming, and confidence is much better than self-doubt.
I met Trish a year ago when I started working for the agency, she came into the office one day to see her dad - our boss at the time. She had talked with me before entering his office, about herself and things she likes. We have a lot in common in terms of interests and she gave me her number, as we talked more she opened up about her father and the things he does, which were all too similar to my mother and step-fathers doings. At that moment we shared a bond with each other, and I believe that’s when my feelings towards her truly blossomed.
I switch my clothes from the suit to something more casual. Before I exit my room I take a look in the long full-length mirror, that was leaning against one of the walls. Everything was in check and I looked fine, I think.
In the mirror was a man with short blond hair that curled at the front, he had a long masculine face with a sharp jawline and pointed nose. Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I don’t see myself, I tend to avoid mirrors and photos as much as possible, maybe I’m just not used to looking at myself.
There was a reason I avoided looking at myself, everything was wrong with the way I looked. Especially in this outfit. The shirt was nice, a white button-up with long, puffy sleeves. Even though I liked it, something still felt wrong. The pants on the other hand, black and tight, they hugged everything wrong. Trish said they looked good, that’s the only reason I actually wear them.
Before Going back to the front room I go over to the glass cage on the other side of my room, the one that held ‘Gold Experience.’ The large bullfrog sat inside one of the logs, her chest puffed out as she breathed, she might be sleeping it was always hard to tell. I say goodbye to her and go find Trish.
Trish still sat in the living room, the only difference being she had her shoes on and a purse slung around her one shoulder.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” I say before doing the same as her.
“Not a problem.”
The car ride to Bruno’s mostly consisted of Trish mindlessly rambling about her day. It was nice, though, I enjoy it when people talk with me. When I meet new people, they often think I’m disinterested when I don’t respond, but that’s not the case at all. I pay more attention when someone I’m close with speaks than I do when I’m in a meeting at work.
As we pulled up to Bruno’s house, I noticed only two cars in the driveway, his and his roommates. His roommate Leone Abbacchio has been living with Bruno longer than I’ve known him and I'm starting to think he will never move out.
Bruno met Leone after he had some troubles in the police force, he blamed himself for his friend’s critical injuries, he had to retire early from the force. Bruno practically took Leone in and got him back on his feet, he’s back working as a cop and is slightly less of an alcoholic.
Bruno greeted us upon entering, he focused on Trish a little more since I had only seen him 20 minutes ago. Leone laid on the couch in a cocky manner with a glass of deep red wine hung loosely from his left hand, he gave me a slight nod as he acknowledged my arrival. Leone and I didn't have the best relationship at first, to be completely honest we despised each other. Over the recent year, we have grown closer to a mutual understanding of playful teasing -me being a ‘brat’ and him getting annoyed and silent conversation. I took my place next to him, the weight of his mass on the couch sunk towards him forcing me to sit at an angle.
The living room filled up with mundane banter, topics such as work -almost strictly coming from Leone as he complains about stupid people, some of it was actually quite funny. Trish talked about the new song she’s working on, saying it will be the one to make her famous. Bruno showered her in compliments, which I can’t argue with, they’re all true.
This continued until the squeak of the front door was heard, Narancia came bursting into the living clearly happy to be getting out of doing his homework. Narancia Ghirga was -to put it bluntly, a 21-year-old high schooler, he had dropped out of elementary school and only started “attending" school again when he was 17 because Fugo had homeschooled the older boy. I had only meet Narancia through Fugo, which I still find hard to believe they were almost the exact opposite of each other. Narancia was loud, energetic, and immature- to the point that people actually believed he was the age to be in high school. His unruly hair and neon clothes emulated Narancia perfectly.
Guido Mista came in behind him, closing the door and taking off his large heelless boots. Guido was one of the odder of my friends with all his superstitions and phobias, specifically around the number 4. While we might not fully understand we still respect it and avoid using the “cursed” number around him. His hair puffed out with the absence of his ever-loved hat, clearly just getting off of work. Guido was the kind of guy to switch jobs frequently. At the moment he worked at the local library down the road, It was extremely out of character for him, but he seemed to enjoy it. He let me and Fugo take out as many books as we pleased, without a worry about due dates. He always let Fugo and Narancia study there too, with the promise that they would keep silent, which never happened. Guido was really a great guy.
Guido looked around the room for a second before asking, “Fugo not here yet?”
The room responded with negative replies, as Guido took his seat in the living room. Guido took over the conversation with his odd hypothetical questions.
There was a knock at the door, clearly being Fugo, he was much more courteous than Narancia and Guido - who had just opened the door. Bruno had opened the door to a more casual-looking Fugo, but still presentable.
Narancia - still caught up in the conversation with Guido, yells all too loud, “I would definitely fuck myself!” A concerning thing to walk in on and it showed on Fugos face twisting in disgust.
Trish, also too into the conversation, said in similar volume, “Exactly, no one would be able to pleasure you more than yourself.” Narancia pointed at her in agreement. Fugo’s face shows even more confusion and now concern for the pinkette.
I need to contribute to this conversation, there’s no way I couldn’t, it was such a bizarre topic that my opinion couldn’t be left unsaid. “I’m going to have to say ‘no’, it’s just wrong. Who in their right mind would have sex with their clone, you do realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?” I say trying on to break my composure in shame of the conversation we are having.
“There was no valid argument in that, Haruno. Where’s the proof that it’s wrong?” Bruno said as he took his seat again picking up his own glass of wine. Bruno was a well-put-together man, so for him to say something like that is quite a shock.
There were now three sides to the question; ‘on board with having sex with your clone’ which was Guido, Trish, Narancia, and Bruno. ‘No opinion’ Leone and Fugo, who merely shook their heads in disappointment. And ‘absolutely not’ In which I was alone.
The conversation continues as such, turning into other topics, thankfully less dirty than the originating topic. I always enjoyed nights like this where nothing really matters, as if time stopped just so we could let all the stress out and have fun.