The night was dark and a storm was reigning over the heavens of the Sicily. And a rather foolish teenager had concluded that after seven years of hiding himself in a closet (he was too claustrophobic for a literal one) he was ready to be out and proud. He simply knew it was time, at the same time his father got the bright idea to throw him out of the house, well maybe it was more of a cause than a coincidence. Because who realizes that Catholicism isn't very happy with sexualities, oh I know, I remember the pope using a slur this year. (And probably the years before that but that wasn't on record) And that is how Romeo ended on the streets, in his pyjama pants and a grey t shirt, what a delightful outfit to come out in. His red hair dangling on his shoulders as if cursed by the devil itself or cosplaying like a vampire (Seriously how did people think this one was straight?). But even with that hair this fashion choice was still the least glamorous and straightest outfit you can think of, a job well done Romeo....

His feet only adorned with one sock that is falling apart he walked on the pavement, the grey pavement, greyer than the day he had chosen to come out. Greyer than other things in his life, it was so frustratingly normal, nothing was ever going to fix the boredom. Romeo was confined to a closet of brooms, not even a secret stash of liquor. The lad decided to go to the only place where he found happiness, sensuality, without feeling shame. That's right, Fontana Pretoria, Fontana della vergnonga, the square of shame, how perfectly ironic, full of marble people eternally beautiful as the sweat of the heavens blesses them with waters of desire, making them seem even more real in the limited light of the storm. And as the light of the day dimmed Romeo loved looking at one of the youthful statues that had seen so much more than he will ever see, his eyes fixed on his statue, he imagined himself Pygmalion, the statue his creation.
('Oh Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefor art thou Romeo?' 'I am stuck in a glass closet Julio, I apologise you will need to wait till my father isn't catholic anymore.' 'Does it count if I kill him?' 'That's hamlet you dumbass.')

But this night there was no light left but the spots illuminating the fake faces from beneath. It was eerily silent on the square. A new statue, a statue that was alive, a green eyed boy staring at one of the marble man while smoking a cigarette, his pitch black hair brushing the nape of his neck in an elegant way while he unties his bun. He looks up to the same statue, perhaps imagining himself Pygmalion too. His see-through shirt was drenched in a mix of sweat and rain as his long hair almost touched the water of the fountain. He doesn't flinch at all as the rain hits his face he sighs and looks back, making eye contact with the boy. He smiles mischievously and beckons the boy.

Romeo walks towards him and looks up at the statue of adonis and his beauty. But strangely the gaze of the stranger does not leave the unfashionably dressed person's face. With a tilt in his head and a lingering question the stranger smiled.

"You don't have to undress him with your eyes darling, he is already naked" He chuckles he lights another cigarette and opens his leather backpack.
Romeo finally finds the courage to look at the stranger and as he takes in this bizarre creature clad in a leather jacket and black high heel boots that remind him of something David bowie would wear.
"Have a little shame why don't you... ogling boys at night...... in those clothes, where do you come from? America?" He says as he looks up at the statue and seems to admire it with a devotion not unlike love.
"I could say the same. Have a little shame you stranger." Romeo answers and he feels his chest swelling as the stranger chuckles playfully.
"That shame has been beaten out of me long ago." The stranger answers.
"Consensually?" The boy asks as he lifts his eyebrow.
"You have a weird way of flirting dear." The stranger says as he drops a pair of low doctor Martens on the ground.
Romeo stares at them.
"You can't dance without shoes can you?" The stranger says. "Come on hurry up."

Romeo hesitated as he started to follow the young man, his feet feel relieved by the shoes, but the hesitation stays. What if he didn't want to go dancing but thought no one would miss anyone with terrible fashion sense so he will murder Romeo in the honour of Gianni Versace? Or maybe he is the fashion police??
"I don't even know your name? Where are we going?" Romeo sputtered as he tripped over his own feet. "Jesus, you walk so fast!"
"Get used to it. And if I had a name it certainly would not be Jesus." He says while he walks towards a club.
"Do you expect me to go clubbing in these clothes?" Romeo asks, the sliver of vanity finally showing.
"You can either go in like this or take your shirt off and it'll be another Tuesday for the boys here."
He says with a smile. "don't be shy." He says as he pulls back the purple curtain in front of the door.

They walk through the door and the Romeo's eyes are overwhelmed by the heavy amount of colour. The purple, red, and blue lights shine on the people dancing to a mystified version of if I could turn back time by Cher.
"Two shots of tequila please. And you know where to get your money." He yells at the bartender.
Romeo looks around and hardly can believe his eyes, the room has a heartbeat to the tempo of the music as the beautiful people dance with other people of the same gender. The perfect mix of sweat, smoke, and perfume fills his nose as he can't decide where to look, or where not to look.
"Here is your tequila." He says as he pours his own shot inside of himself with the swiftness and ease of an alcoholic (one with style though). He smiles as he looks at the dancefloor as slowly boys keep swinging by Bowie fades in.

"Oh I love this song." He exclaims while he grabs Romeo's hand and drags him towards the dancefloor.
"I can't dance!" Romeo exclaims, still recovering from the sharp burn of the alcohol.
"Everyone can dance, just move darling....." He says with a cheeky smile as he puts a hand on his face.
Romeo can't help but admire the youthful movements of the stranger that felt more familiar than his own father this night. The way his cascading hair could be predicted before it landed and his hands seemed to be perpetually in the air while his smile beamed brighter than the heavy party lights illuminating it. The way the whole club seemed to slowly be moving slower and slower as if the world was only focusing on the stranger that Romeo wished was not a stranger, or at least had not been a stranger for this long. And as he saw the spark in the eyes of the ravenous individual he decided that today was going to be the best day of his life.
And as the song ends he longs for his final answer.

"What's your..."
Someone pulls on the boys hair.
"Natalia!" he remarks, as if he isn't in pain or surprised.
"Leave the little one alone Guiseppe, you're too much for him. Plus you are already late!" She says as she grabs his ear.
"Yes mother." He barks (just as youthfully as his moves but this time I don't think it would be legal to fuck this youthfulness.)
"Ma'am I..." He begin as the tall black woman in the absolutely stunning pink dress was walking away (the idiot forgot to ask what brand it was, a shame really, what better present to give your mother so she can forgive after coming out as gay? Okay now that I say it out loud that may have the opposite effect.)
"Oh sweet summer child, I am no ma'am, but thank you for calling me fish." She says with a smile before turning around. Leaving a baffled Romeo on the dancefloor, wondering how he insulted her by calling her a rotten fish or why she would be thanking him for that when he looks at his feet. Shit! He forgot to give his shoes back!

He runs out of the club, bumping against several people but not really caring. (He was living his Cinderella dreams of course no one could stop him. Although he always imagined being Cinderella rather than prince charming.)
He looks around the street, thankfully there are not many people still out at this time. He can clearly see the fabulous dress and hear the chaotic click clack of two pairs of heels in a hurry.

As Romeo tries to catch up he realises he can't call out to him because he is still not certain what the guy's name is. They enter a dark bar through a back entrance that is dimly lit by a lamp and Romeo manages to narrowly slip through the door as it slowly closes. (finally a good reason to be lanky ladies and gentlemen.....and others (to quote a certain genius))

There is an unsettling air of cigars and their little brothers (Cigarettes, or fags whether you don't mind being accused of smoking a slur.) Romeo hears some voices and follows the faint evidence of human existence through the dimly lit and small corridor when he hears faint voices of several people, with hesitation he puts his ear on the door, his heart racing as if this is something that would happen in a James Bond film. (difference would be that he wouldn't be wearing a pyjama, you're embarrassing the whole community with your choice of nightwear Romeo!)

Meanwhile on the other side of the door Guiseppe, (which was the name of the stranger, yeah back than we could not take them to Starbucks to get their name (not that an Italian would ever accept that offer)) was still being pulled to his place at the long table by his ear.
"You're late." A person with strawberry blonde hair and the best fringe I have ever seen says. The way they're dressed it looks like a little boy decided to join a steampunk army (But then more stylish.)
"Again...." An elegant guy responds who's white blonde hair accentuates the incredibly clear dark circles under his eyes.
"And you are drunk." Guiseppe bites back and he ties his hair in a bun.
"Again." The other beautiful woman in the room mentions as she rolls her eyes.
"And you love me for it." The drunkard says with a smile.

"Enough dilly dallying." You hear from the darkness at the back of the room. Someone slams a large pile of papers on the table. He takes off his white silk gloves and looks up. His black hair barely reaches his shoulders as he sassily looks at the people surrounding the table. He takes off his suit jacket which reveals a vatermorder cutting off the bloodstream to his neck. He walks around the table and throws a pile of papers in front of anybody. He walks past the person in the magnificent pink dress and nods
"Good evening, mother." He says with a smile.

"Explain yourselves....." He says, with a look of disdain.
"Ivo, come on you know we don't fuck up things, but we are not as neurotic a you are." A buff woman with short bright pink hair says. She's wearing a beautiful white shirt and suspenders
"Fine Elisabetta, than you don't explain.... Or at least not to me...." He says as he steps away from the chair at the head of the table and a figure emerges from the darkness.