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Alberto was bored. He looked up at the starry sky, face caked in layers of makeup, and wished that he could be with his sister right now, who was at some fancy college in Italy that he still couldn’t pronounce the name of. He’d last seen Giulia over summer, but even though that was two months past, he still missed her like a missing sock. And that meant a lot, coming from Alberto who went through socks like Kleenex. But what he really wished for was Giulia’s perfect pasta. He was really hungry. During high school, she would make it for her brother on nights like this when she was visiting, when the full moon sparkled and the stars twinkled down on them.
Alberto couldn’t really remember his mom. She’d passed away when he was born and all he really remembered was his dad. Until Giulia and her mom entered their life for thirteen whole years before their parents mutually divorced. But the two of them still stayed close even after her mom moved back to Italy and took her with her. They were both in the same grade and their parents bought them phones to communicate.
He was still lonely without her, though. It was so weird starting high school without her. He made a few friends, but they didn’t last. Until he met Ercole, Ciccio, and Guido in Junior year. They got off to a rocky start, what with Alberto crashing into Ercole’s pristine motorcycle with his dad’s old pick-up truck as he was learning to drive. But, eventually, Ercole forgave him, mainly at the pestering of Ciccio and Guido, and they became better friends. And Alberto learned about their pasts and was there with them for some of their future. Ercole had evidently been the biggest asshole all through middle school, where he met Ciccio and Guido, up to the start of high school. Alberto was thankful that he never met them earlier or their friendship might have gone much differently. Once Ciccio and Guido threatened Ercole with leaving him midway through freshman year, Ercole had promised to change his ways, especially as they were his only friends.
Alberto learned (after Ercole was persuaded to tell him by his therapist) that Ercole only acted that way because his rich parents were mostly absent from his life, and that Ciccio and Guido’s parents were much of the reason why he was able to heal due to their acceptance of him and virtual adoption by both sets of parents. He was there with Ercole when Ciccio and Guido came out to them and confessed that they had started dating (Ercole and Alberto then set up a congratulations party), and he was the one that hung out with Ercole when Ciccio and Guido were doing fun date-y stuff. Which entailed Ercole and Alberto watching telenovelas and crying like strong, single men. The two of them created the inside joke where Ciccio and Guido were their dads. They already acted like dad friends—those silly worriers—and dated each other, so it wasn’t much of a reach. Though, between the two of them, Ercole was the more annoying son.
Alberto was there to comfort him when Ercole’s beloved Nonna passed away at the end of senior year, when the four of them had already gotten into a nearby college. He couldn’t remember having grandparents, but he understood missing a family member. Alberto was there when Ciccio and Guido proposed their Halloween tradition of turning the lawn and bottom floor of Ercole’s mansion into a haunted house in memory of his Nonna, who was very fond of horror movies. Ercole watched them with her often when he was as young as five years old, and although he preferred the drama and romance in a telenovela, he loved spending that quality time with his Nonna laughing at stupid teenagers on the television who ended up dead. Ciccio and Guido suggested it because they were horror buffs, which was how they met: in line to buy tickets for the most recent horror movie at the movie theater.
All that had been left was to convince Alberto, the certified wimp. Alberto liked to believe that he was brave and strong, but he hated horror movies with a not-so-secret passion. But he didn’t hesitate before accepting the idea, for Nonna and also because it was much easier to scare other people than to get scared himself.
And that had somehow ended up with him here, partially into their sophomore year of college, dressed up like a creepy clown with a creepy caked-on makeup smile, fake bloodstained clown outfit, and signature mismatched socks, these Halloween-themed. He was hiding around the corner of the patio to the mansion with a “free hugs” sign, waiting for people to walk up to the door—which had an “Enter” sign painted with “blood” and would creak open ominously—so that he could barge up the patio steps and freak them out from behind as they stepped in. But few people were coming up the block to the top of the hill this year.
After a couple hours, Alberto was starting to get tired. It was a Friday night, and he still had some homework left to do. There had been a somewhat higher stream of trick-or-treaters after the first hour was over and word started to get out, but there was currently a lapse.
Suddenly, two seemingly racing people ran up to the house, each without a costume. They were both attempting to take in breath as they approached the door, but Alberto planned to—somewhat sadistically—put a stop to that. But before he could creep up on them from behind as they stepped into the house, the redhead on the right turned to him, as if supernaturally sensing his presence.
Holy farfalle! Giulia, in all her smirking, unimpressed glory, was standing at Ercole’s door. Giulia, as in his sister Giulia, as in the girl that should be in Italy right now? Giulia opened her mouth to say something, probably to comment on the fact that he should know after all these years that he couldn’t scare her, because she was scarier than he was, which Alberto always felt inclined to agree as his scarlet-haired sister was a bit psychotic. But no words came out, as before they could, her companion that Alberto hadn’t really noticed, even though he had turned around right after Giulia, threw himself at him. Suddenly, Alberto’s nose was filled with the smell of… actually Alberto wasn’t really sure what the boy’s hair smelled like, other than that it was fruity and comforting and he kind of wanted to smell it forever. And, holy macaroni, but his hair was soft, curly, and light under Alberto’s chin. He kind of wanted to rub his face in it but figured it would be a little strange and the boy in his arms would back away, probably forever. Wait, why was he in his arms in the first place?
The boy pulled away slightly, nodding at the sign that Alberto had dropped on the floor after intercepting the flying human that fit unnaturally well in his arms, “Well, I think hugging a creepy clown probably won’t convince my therapist that I, 1. Don’t have a death wish or weird kink, and 2. Don’t suffer from a lack of physical touch... Oh well… You have nice arms…” The last part was said in a sort of awkward mumble that Alberto probably wasn’t supposed to hear, but he did, though it didn’t register. Because, again, holy macaroni, his Italian accent was adorable; his eyes were gorgeous; and even his slightly pained smile was perfect (farfalle, he was staring at his lips now). He was so cute, all stick-like limbs and boyish features. Alberto wanted to keep him forever.
“Wow, Luca, um, I guess… meet my brother, Alberto?” Giulia was laughing at them from behind Luca, but Alberto didn’t care enough to respond, too entranced with the boy—Luca—who seemed to be staring back in a similar way.
“Oh-kayyyy, I’m just gonna leave you guys here. I’d give you a hug, Ber, but you seem otherwise occupied. Bye. I’m gonna explore the funhouse. Luca, yell for me if my brother does something stupid.” With that, Giulia left them at the door, snorting in exasperation as she walked off. Of course, the first time that her best friend met her brother, they would have a stupidly adorable meet-cute outside of a haunted house. If only she could do that.
She walked around the bottom floor of the mansion, trying to remember what Alberto said about his friend that owned it. Alberto talked about Ercole, Ciccio, and Guido almost as much as she talked about Luca when they texted, video chatted, or visited each other. She’d met Ciccio and Guido a few years ago because they’d come over to Alberto’s house for a party. The three of them had hit it off and they set up a group chat purely for getting blackmail on Alberto, before it devolved into just a group chat that they used in general. Giulia still had never met Ercole because it seemed like every time that Giulia was in town, Ercole was traveling with his parents. Giulia was pretty sure Ercole was just afraid of her from Alberto’s stories.
After stepping over an obviously fake snake and tarantula, Giulia entered a long hallway filled with doors. It seemed like the type of area where someone would probably be hiding to jump scare her, so she walked past each door carefully, listening for movement. Once she got to the end of the hallway, she heard a door lightly creak behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a hooded figure raise a knife covered in blood, creeping toward her. It was probably fake. She smirked, as she opened her purse and unwrapped a parcel inside. Giulia raised the butcher knife that she had just unwrapped, courtesy of Alberto’s father on her last birthday. She carried it with her everywhere now. She waited until the last second, when the figure seemed like it was going to reach out for her, before flipping them around to the wall, her leg pressed between his and the blunter edge of the knife pressed to his neck. She didn’t want to hurt him, just threaten him lightly.
“Pesce Gatto, who do you think has a sharper knife, hmm? Be careful who you threaten or I might take you seriously.” Giulia whispered into his ear sharply, a sadistic edge to her voice. Her soft, curly scarlet hair brushed against Ercole’s jaw as she pulled away, like the gentle caress of death. She was close enough that he could count all of her freckles if he had time, but her piercing brown eyes prompted him to speak.
Ercole breathed in and swallowed slowly, yet a smirk shaped his lips, as he replied, petulantly, “A catfish, really?”
Giulia snorted, noting that he had understood the Italian nickname, before pulling away slightly to retort, “Of all things to say when someone presses you against the wall with a knife, and you go for questioning my word choice. You’re making it very hard to not want to nick you just a little bit with my knife. Also, the name is for your whiskers.”
He gasped in response, hand coming up dramatically over his heart, as his large bottom lip pulled into a pout. “It’s at least a mustache.”
Giulia laughed at him again and would’ve rebuked his comment had she not seen his hooded eyes that sparkled with mirth at his own expense. She lifted her knife slightly to tilt his chin so that she could see his face better and ran her eyes along his features. From a well-manicured swoop of hair to thick eyebrows and tired brown eyes to his large nose and the aforementioned whiskers of a mustache, he looked like the stereotypical greasy college student. She released him to take in his outfit. He was wearing all black, with black skinny jeans and a long black hoodie. The ski mask had really tied his outfit together. He seemed awfully comfortable, she noted, as his feet were only adorned by black socks rather than actual shoes. She supposed it also made creeping up on people a lot easier than with shoes on, but he didn’t look awkward in the space, which led her to believe that he may be Ercole: the owner of the mansion that she was currently exploring after Massimo told her that Alberto would be here visiting him. Oh, so he was a rich, stereotypical greasy college student.
“You’re Ercole, right?”
He seemed surprised for a second, before he shook it off, adopting his seemingly-signature annoying smirk. “And you must be the angel that heaven sent me to keep me in check.”
“Again, maybe being pushed against a wall made you lose some brain cells, but, just to remind you, I was holding a knife to you a few seconds ago. Does that mean nothing? And if anything, hell would’ve sent me to you, not heaven. From all the stories that I’ve heard from Alberto, hell would kindly accept you.”
Ercole grinned with a sharp smile that was all teeth. “Oh, I see that he was telling the truth, then. You are like a rabid dog: bite first, bark later. But I have to say, Giulia, your bark is almost as lethal.” He winked at her before turning around to return to the front door, flipping the fake knife in his hand as he walked. Giulia cringed slightly at his cheesy words, but watched him with amusement.
“Come on, Macellaia Giulia. I would like to see if your brother has been eaten by any trick-or-treating children. If not, he’ll probably be hungry, like the little piranha he is.”