Work Text:
Whoever made up the rule that a cigarette holder shall never find a lighter on their possession had a wicked sense of humour... I refused to be the victim of it. I always had at least one lighter in my bag or pockets. And yet, today i left in a rush, with a bag in which I fasty transferred all important things, forgetting one crucial one: a lighter. That's how I'm supposed to deal with the atrocious day I had? On dry..? Surely, there was always the long walk method to get rid of the stress, but I could feel the breaking point too close to me. I knew, if I had that walk, I'd end up crying on the streets of Rome. And today was such a beautiful day... one of those first spring days, when the sun finally comes out and warms the earth a bit... Ugh! How could I forget that one thing i always have with me? Perhaps that's exactly how I overlooked it... I was so used to have a lighter with me, in the left pocket of my wool coat, I couldn't even comprehend the idea of it not being there when I checked... And yet the reality always had it's own way to mess with me. I resign. No lighter, no smoke. But maybe it doesn't have to be that way.
[Author's note: For everybody's sake, even tho the rest of the conversation is supposed to happen in italian, I'm not fluent enough to write in this language yet, and i do not trust google translate. I am also aware many of you, reading this, don't understand italian, so it might come off as frustrating to read dialogue in a language you don't understand. I also had the experience to read fics with certain parts written in my native tongue and i can confirm it was certainly not a nice experience, so, once again, out of respect for whatever italians might stumble across this fic at some point, ill keep it in English, and we're all gonna pretend they speak in italian. Thanks]
"-Buongiorno, ragazzi! I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but do you have a lighter, by any chance? I somehow managed to forget mine home..."
They seemed nice. A group of four, three guys and one gorgeous woman. Not too old, but surely old enough to be smoking in the public. It was a tactic I was taught in school. Asking for a smoke or a cigarette was a good way to get to talk with a group and make friends. It was, indeed, and effective method. That if i was there to make friends, which I wasn't. No. I needed a smoke to clear my head. I wasn't going to bother them for longer than it took me to light a cigarette. That if they were nice enough to spare me a lighter for a few seconds, of course.
"-Yeah, sure, here!"
One of the men replys while handing me a white lighter and smiling in a very friendly and non threatening way. Not that i was too worried. The blonde woman with them was absolutely divine. Surely somebody like her had standards at least good enough when it came to people she hang up with...
Finally... I have the lighter! I rummage thought an inner pocket of my coat and pull out a pack of Malboro red, pulling one out and placing it between my lips before lighting it and taking a generous drag out of it.
"-You really shouldn't have a white lighter. Its bad luck, many celebrities died with a white one in their pocket."
It was, of course, useless information in this context. I wasn't even sure about the accuracy of that information. Some classmate of mine told me about that when I first started smoking and I never really bothered to check. It was most likely an urban myth, anyway. The smile on the group's faces likely confirmed my theory. They didn't seem worried or in any way disturbed. Just amused.
"-I'll make sure to get rid of it, then. I'd be grateful if a lighter wouldn't be the cause of my death."
He let out a chuckle, which i reply to with a smile and a slight wave of my hand.
"-Thanks a lot for it, tho. I really needed a smoke."
I hand his lighter back and take a moment, just a moment, to look closely at his face. He has that 'italian man' vibe, if I'm being completely honest. Olive skin, brown eyes, dark hair and an acviline nose. Aesthetically pleasing, overall. But that isn't my goal right now. No. I just wanted a smoke. Mission accomplished, so now I slowly return to the very next bench to the group. They seem to have a good time, I really didn't want a bunch of strangers to remember me as the 'annoying girl from the park' for the rest of the day...
"-By the way, you're absolutely gorgeous! I love your fit!"
I let the compliment pass past my lips as I walk away. This gorgeous woman surely didn't need my words to know she's beautiful, but the smile brightening her face was worth the possible awkwardness and embarrassment this situation could have caused.
"-Aw! Thank you so much! You're gorgeous as well! I'm Victoria!"
A hand of hers extends to shake mine. She seemed nice... nothing in the way she smiled made me think any of those was anything less by friendliness and kindness. It seems like my plan of walking away and not disturbing them might need a reconfiguration now...
"-Wanna stay with us? Or are you waiting for someone?"
A part of me wanted to refuse. It truly did. But the other part... the bigger, friendlier part told me it couldn't harm getting to know more people. We didn't have to be locked by the hip afterwards, hell, we didn't even need to ever meet again afterwards, but right now was not afterwards. It was now. And I could use some nice people to hang out with, even if it was just a group meeting in the park and then splinting forever.
"-Only if you're all alright with that. I really don't want to intrude into your group, you seem to be already knowing each other."
I want verbal confirmation. Yes, she did invite me. Yes, she doesn't seem to be having any thoughts of making fun of me or mocking me. But there were three other guys with her. Sure... the guy with the lighter seemed to also be pretty nice. Then it was the other two: a tall, blonde guy who looks like someone who would be doing something cool with their lives... and the tall man with long and dark hair and the aura of someone who doesn't play around. Maybe I can somehow get it going with the blonde one, but the truth being said, I am a tad intimidated by the long haired beast.
The lighter guy moves a bit so he isn't taking up that much space on the bench and the blonde guy gets up, letting me sit next to Victoria.
"-I'm Damiano"
So the lighter guy has finally been named. Damiano. I don't know what I expected, but it clearly fit him. He did look like a 'Damiano', if that makes sense. He extends one hand towards me to shake, and I don't hesitate. I don't want to make a bad first impression...
Now that he's up, i can see very clearly: the blonde guy is tall. I would have, probably, had to look up to meet his eyes even if i was standing kind of tall. If he kept a straight face, he would have started to intimidate me, as well. But he doesn't. He has that kind and friendly look in his eyes, it was impossible for me to be afraid of him.
"-Hi! I'm Thomas! Nice to meet you!"
Yes... he is that kind of person you click with instantly. I can't help but smile and extend my hand to shake his. I started to be making peace with the fact that i quite literally just joined a random group of people in the park, they seemed to be clearly nice enough for me to feel welcome. Except for... well...
"-Ethan. Pleasure."
Of course he was greeting me like it was a business meeting. I don't even know what I expected from him. He looked like the very serious type, but I hoped he'd at least pretend a bit. I guess not, yet I decide to shake his hand anyway. Perhaps not my wisest choice, considering the size of the biceps i could see from underneath the black band shit. He is one of the people from my not that long list which managed to give me memorable handshakes. His hand held mine firmly, but, curiously, not painful. I can feel the maturity and responsibility radiating through a simple handshake, and I have to smile. Well... not exactly 'have to'... I didn't do it to seem polite or to fit some kind of patriarchal standard which imposed women to be smiling all the time. No. I am conscious of the choice, in a way. I smiled because I was feeling like smiling. I smiled because he revealed a part of him which I liked really much, and I'm not even sure he is aware of it.
"-What do you do for a living?"
Damiano clearly is asking the real questions here, between drags out of the cigarette. I can't blame him for being curious, this question is clearly coming from a good place. I exhale some smoke before answering:
"-I'm a tattoo artist and owner of Onyx Sanctuary, down the street."
Silence for some solid 10 seconds. I didn't want to seem like I'm that curious about what they think, so I just take another drag from the cigarette, trying to seem unbothered.
"-That's nice! I did some tattoos on myself a while ago! They're quite good, if i might say so myself."
I chuckle. Almost all people who came to the studio and had self made tattoos were either trying to fix it or get it covered, or simply having the most random thing, probably done with a needle and lots of hope in the heart of the night. The professional in me had serious doubts about those kind of tattoos, i can bet none of them are done really safely, yet a part of me, the more human and rebel part, admired the confidence of people to get shit like that done permanently on their bodies. The smile never disappeared from my face, even more, now i was curious.
"-Do you mind if i take a look?"
A sleeve is lifted to reveal an unexpectedly well done tattoo on the superior biceps. Now this is a reason to smile. The lines looked clean and deep enough into the derma. It was not uncommon for people to only break the superior layers of the skin and have the tattoo look uneven and faded extremely fast.
"-I suggest some ointment to moisture it when you get home today, it seems a tad dry. But other than that, you did a surprisingly good job. It looks very good, I've seen studio tattoos looking worse than this. What did you use? Its hard to believe you had the patience for poking it with a singular needle..."
A kind and warm laugh broke though Damiano's thoat. He seemed to be genuinely happy about my comment, thing which could only make me happy as well.
"-Good to know I'm doing a good job. Don't worry, its not stick and poke. I have a machine. Probably not the most professional one, but it does its job more than well for me. About moisturising it... i know... i know. I was in a rush today."
I smile again. It was something i encountered rarer than I would have liked: responsable people who did tattoos on themselves. I've learnt the hard way that some people really don't care about a professional opinion or advice unless they fucked up bad enough to need retouching or a complete cover-up. It was nice seeing some people who at least pretend to listen to my advice.
"When are you at the studio?"
Victoria asked me among with flicking away some ash from the tip of her cigarette. I spot a few small tattoos on her arms, so she either had experience with tattoo studios, or Damiano tattooed her as well. Either way, i never minded answering questions for whoever considered working with me, or was merely curious.
"-It depends a lot on my appointments, but usually on Monday, Wednesdays and Fridays, after 10:30, you find me there. In the rest of the days, my friend, Sam is working. We're open everyday, except for Sundays. But i think that's enough about me. What do you guys do?"
Now that is. The real, raw question. I can literally see the way they all telepathically communicate before Thomas decides to answer me, a smirk on his face:
"-We have a band... we're quite big, actually... we won the Eurovision in 2021..."
Oh- Well, this is clearly the answer I would have never be expecting to get. I feel a tad embarrassed about my lack of knowledge on the topic. But they didn't seem specifically bothered by the fact. Not even surprised by the way i had no clue who they were. For me, they weren't 'the guys who won the Eurovision'. They were simply some people i hung up with in a park, after work.
"-Unfortunately i don't watch Eurovision... i don't really have television in my apartment... i turn the tv on so rarely, it was pointless. But congratulations anyway. Im sure you had a wonderful moment! How are you guys called, so i can look it up later?"
"-Måneskin. You find us on all streaming platforms."
That was definitely a name. Not that i was an expert or anything, but it didn't sound like anything italian. But who was i to judgeme? The name was definitely cool. It intrigued me more than anything, and my promise was not made in the vain. I really intended to look them up when I got home.
"-Do you mind if i take a picture? I would really like to have a picture with all of us!"
I didn't get time to answer, Victoria had her phone out already, yet she didn't take any picture. An excited smile was enchanting her face as she waited for me to consent over the picture. I definitely appreciated the consideration, many people just took the picture without even bothering to ask first, thing which i found particularly irritating. If I was going to be part of a picture somewhere on the Internet, I'd better be asked first...
The gorgeous blonde is still watching me carefully, waiting for a response from me. I can't deny, she definitely earned the privilege to have and post pictures with me in them. She was simply too nice for me to refuse.
"-I don't mind it! Thank you for asking, tho!"
I pull closer to the group, fitting between Damiano and Ethan, Thomas crouching a bit in front of us so he won't cover us completely. To my surprise, everybody, including Ethan, seemed extremely comfortable. He was even smiling in a way didn't give him credit for.
"-What's your instagram, so i can tag you into my story?"