Chapter Text
Caesar glanced at the corner of his laptop screen, doubt flickering in his eyes.
Less than an hour remained. Hardly enough time to make a decision, let alone dwell on the right choice. Once the clock struck midnight, the option to submit his application would vanish.
What am I even doing?
The blond stared at the document on his screen, its title glaring back at him: Request for an Extension of the Exchange Program. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, tense with hesitation. A single click, and he’d commit to staying. A single click, and he’d be locking himself into a choice he wasn’t sure he understood.
He missed his father. His siblings even more. Nearly six months had passed since he’d last seen them. Every phone call with his family was laced with joy at the thought of his return.
Italy felt like another lifetime. The scent of home-cooked meals, numerous family gatherings buzzing with lively chatter over dinner, the narrow streets bathed in golden sunlight, overflowing with rabble. It all belonged to a world that now seemed distant, almost unreal. He yearned to return to it, to the place that once felt like home.
And yet, here he was. Sitting at his cramped dorm desk, eyes locked on the timeworn laptop, torn between two extremes. Outside his window, New York was still vivacious, the city humming with life, a restless energy he had grown to adore. If he left, would he miss it? The thrill of unpredictability, the feeling that there was still more waiting for him here.
And then, of course, there was him. The reason Caesar was hesitating in the first place, the reason there didn’t seem to be a right choice. Only different ways to lose.
Should he stay in New York for another semester? Or should he go back home, to the familiar monotony of his old life, and pretend he’d never met this stupidly charming British guy, who he never would have thought could mess with his head this much?
···
New York was nothing like Rome.
Here, in the heart of the United States, the city never seemed to rest. Caesar was no stranger to the chaos of a bustling metropolis—he knew what it was like to live in a city drowning in people. But there was a difference.
Rome had tourists everywhere, with cameras around their necks and maps folded into their pockets, but there was something strangely temporary about them. They came to see the Colosseum, throw coins into the Trevi Fountain, take their Instagram pictures, complain about the heat—and then they went home.
New York didn't feel temporary. The people crowding its streets weren't here just to look around. They belonged here. At least, most of them seemed to. They hurried to work, disappeared into subway stations, carried groceries home, walked their dogs, spoke to friends and family in languages Caesar couldn't always recognize. It was strange to think that so many people could come from so many different places and still call the same city home.
He’d grown accustomed to Rome’s restless rhythm after spending so much of his adult life studying there. It had its own kind of chaos, but it was warm and familiar—almost like a controlled disorder. New York’s felt alive in an entirely different way.
···
After getting to the dorms and dropping off their luggage, the newly arrived students weren’t even granted a full day to recover from the absurdly long journeys that had carried them across oceans and continents. By morning, the university’s adaptation program was already underway. It wasn’t mandatory, of course, but few exchange students were willing to skip it. In a city so foreign, in a campus so sprawling, anything that provided a sense of direction—a face to recognize in the crowd, a trace of familiarity to cling to—was worth taking. And so, despite the jet lag sapping their strength and the comfort of staying hidden in their rooms, they showed up. Ready or not.
The first item on the agenda was a campus tour combined with some practical organisational details. The newly arrived students were shown how to navigate the grounds using densely spaced guideboards, where to find information desks if they needed assistance, and how they should decipher their complex-looking timetables. They were led past the gym, given directions to the main library, and briefed on the rules governing shared spaces—along with a load of other logistical specifics that most of them promptly forgot. Not that they were paying much attention to all this formal babble to begin with, even though they had shown up for the tour with such intention.
The majority were too busy marvelling at the enormous, almost ridiculous differences between this university and their home institutions to focus on the tiresome twitter of the seniors. In hindsight, that probably wasn’t the smartest approach. But by the time they were able to refocus, all they had retained was a single ominous sentence: “Failure to comply may result in expulsion”. Not exactly what they wanted to hear.
Then again—who really cared? It was probably just a scare tactic used on newcomers to put them in their place.
Another key part of the adaptation program was a city tour. The students were given a chance to familiarize themselves with their new surroundings, to make this place feel a little less foreign. They walked past popular student hangouts, where the best discounts could be found, learned where to eat well on a budget, which places to check for part-time jobs, which neighbourhoods to avoid, how to navigate the subway like a local, and, of course, where to go when they wanted to have some fun.
Caesar almost died of boredom. Before arriving, he had devoured countless guides on student life in New York and the ins and outs of attending the prestigious university here. There was little left for him to learn when it came to the basics.
At least, that had been the case before he found a way to keep himself occupied.
The exchange group wasn’t massive, but it didn’t take long for Caesar to acquire an admirer. She was a precious French girl, with an unusual but strikingly foxy looks, and though she had explicitly mentioned having a boyfriend back home, that did little to weaken Caesar’s charm or discourage him from his perfectly mastered Casanova act.
Not that she seemed to mind his advances, either.
But the stunning brunette wasn’t the one who intrigued him the most. Joseph Joestar stood out from the group far more.
He was a British-born guy who had moved to New York as a teenager. Even with the prestige of the university he was attending, Joseph didn't exactly fit the image of the responsible guide he was meant to be. If anything, he seemed to take his role as one of the group mentors as carelessly as humanly possible. Most of his time was spent goofing off, teasing the new students and, much to Caesar’s dismay, making embarrassingly pathetic attempts at flirting with the cute overseas ladies. To his distaste and astonishment, the girls seemed to enjoy the attention they received from this fool.
Caesar couldn’t help but be surprised. Given the university's prestigious reputation, letting someone like Joseph handle the guide role seemed like a risky move. Did they really want their first impression on foreign students to be a guy like him?
Because so far, all Joseph had done was act like a complete clown.
Before he even introduced himself or asked for Caesar’s name, Joseph, without a hint of restraint, blurted out his opinion on how stupid it was to ruin one’s face with tattoos.
The blonde, taken aback and more than a little offended, calmly explained that the pink markings under his eyes weren’t tattoos but birthmarks. Watching the cocky expression vanish from Joseph’s face was quite amusing. The Brit was quick to backtrack, fumbling through a series of apologies, his confident demeanour faltering for the first time.
Still, one blunder wasn’t nearly enough to stop him from making more tactless, out-of-place remarks. If anything, it seemed to be his specialty. Every other sentence out of his mouth was either teasing, slightly inappropriate, or just plain ridiculous. And somehow, without either of them realizing it, the conversation turned into an all-out mockery of each other’s very distinct accents. Caesar sneered at Joseph’s lazy, drawling English, while Joseph exaggerated the sharp precision of Caesar’s Italian-laced pronunciation.
It should have been annoying. It was. Yet, Caesar found himself biting back a genuine smile.
Despite Joseph’s peculiar personality, there was something undeniably magnetic about him. Maybe it was the way he carried himself—like the entire world existed purely for his amusement. The kind of guy who took nothing seriously. He was exactly the type of person Caesar would find infuriating—carefree to the point of recklessness, someone who probably coasted through life on charm and sheer luck. He quickly realized the Brit was one of those people, the kind you either adored or couldn’t stand.
It took a lot for Caesar to truly hate someone.
Besides, he couldn’t pretend Joseph hadn’t caught his eye before they had even exchanged a single word. To be fair, it was hard not to notice a six-foot-something giant towering over the rest of his more average-sized colleagues. But it wasn’t just his height that made him stand out. There was something about the effortless way he engaged with everyone, so naturally smooth, as if he’d known them forever. His charm was undeniable, and within minutes, he could turn strangers into friends with nothing more than a witty remark and a smile.
And then, of course, there was his physique.
Caesar rarely came across guys who matched his own build, let alone exceeded it. And yet, when he got a proper look at Joseph, he felt that small, irritating spark of jealousy settle in his chest.
Not that he would ever admit it.
···
Hours slipped by in a flash, and with them, the orientation program was coming to an end. Looking back, Caesar could barely recall anything genuinely useful he had picked up from that entire so-called preparatory course. If he had known just how little value it would offer, he could have come up with a dozen better ways to spend his time. What was the point when the same guidance was just a few clicks away on the university’s website or pinned recommendations on Google Maps? He could have pulled all this information up online in an instant. Which, in fact, he already had before even setting foot on campus.
Well, Caesar was used to being meticulous in his preparations and sometimes forgot that not everyone shared his level of thoroughness.
But at this point, there was no use dwelling on time already lost.
Still, despite his disappointment with the program’s content, he didn’t regret attending. Because, in the end, he had gained something far more valuable than a handful of wayfinding tips or campus rules.
A one-of-a-kind friend. Even if he was a bit of an idiot.
Well, ‘friend’ might have been a strong word. Fellow? Annoyance? Questionable source of entertainment? Whatever Joseph was, he had a way of making himself impossible to ignore.
With the program nearly wrapped up, almost all scheduled activities were over, just one last thing on the agenda remaining—a lively welcome party at a popular bar downtown. The moment Caesar stepped through the bar's threshold, he straightaway knew that there was only one thing certain regarding the evening ahead. His encounters with Joseph were far from over.
···
Caesar had spent quite a bit of time in the company of the charming French girl, but he wasn’t confined to dallying with just her. He had coqueted many other good-looking women from various nationalities, presenting himself at his very best as a true, admirable gentleman. But it seemed that the carefree moments were about to come to an end, the instant Caesar found himself briefly alone at the open bar, surveying the snacks on offer. Not even a minute of his solitude passed before Joseph appeared, drink in hand and that annoyingly confident, almost foolish expression on his face.
“You're quite the ladies' man!” Joseph remarked, his tone teasing. “You don't stay with one for long, do you?”
“Been paying attention, huh?” Caesar retorted with a hint of amusement in his voice, raising an eyebrow. Has this guy really been watching me the whole time, or what?
“Wha-? Of course not! You’ve just been all over the place, so I naturally ended up noticing some stuff!” he replied, a touch defensively.
“Yeah, right. I’ll take your word for it. ”
“Cross my heart.” His tone did little to sell the sincerity.
“Well, if you're so observant, maybe you should've picked up a thing or two about talking to women. Watching you struggle during the city tour? That was painful.”
“Excuse me?! I had things completely under control! Besides, I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Mr. Expert.”
“What I saw suggests you could use some advice,” Caesar said bluntly, not bothering with being polite.
“Oh, sure, let me just take notes from the great Caesar, master of seduction. Do you offer workshops, or is it invite-only?” scoffed Joseph, genuinely astonished that the blond had the nerve to speak like that. “Man, is being rude an Italian thing or is it just you that’s a jerk?” He sighed, taking a sip of his drink.
“I wasn’t being a jerk. I was trying to be helpful.”
Joseph cast him a sceptical glance, keeping his lips pressed against the rim of his cup.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Caesar apologised, a bit amused by the eccentric conversation. “I was just messing with you. It wasn’t as awful as I made it sound. I gotta admit, the ladies seemed to like it.”
“Duh, obviously. Besides, it’s not like I had anything better to do. Man, that shit was boring as fuck.”
Nothing better to do? Caesar raised an eyebrow, resisting the urge to scoff. How about taking your responsibilities as a guide seriously? Then again, given what he’d seen so far, it wasn’t exactly surprising. Joseph didn’t seem like the type to care about rules or obligations. At least they could agree on one thing—this whole program really was painfully dull.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you even sign up for this in the first place? No offense, but you didn’t exactly seem... thrilled to be here,” Caesar asked, eyeing him with a hint of curiosity.
“See, that’s the thing! I didn’t sign up.”
Well, that certainly put things into perspective. Caesar shot him a questioning look, waiting for him to elaborate.
“Let’s just say I really needed to get back into a certain dean’s good graces.” Joseph huffed, swirling the drink in his cup. “And, of course, the fucker had to come up with some lame ass shit like being a guide as my remedy. Should’ve seen it coming.”
Now, that explained a lot. It was no secret that out of the thousands of students on campus, only a handful had volunteered to help the exchange students settle in. The university was short on willing guides. And since Joseph had a fair grudge with a certain university official, with whom he desperately needed to patch things up, it meant that a troublemaker like him was the perfect target. He hadn’t chosen this job. He’d been assigned to it.
Well, considering Joseph's reasonable motive and the university's staffing issues, everything seemed to fall into place. Everyone was getting something out of the arrangement. Still, Caesar couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that such a reputable institution had willingly assigned Joseph this role. Did they really not know who they were dealing with? Did they honestly believe he’d take the task to heart and actually try?
“I don’t think it’s lame,” the blonde disagreed. “Sounds pretty cool, actually. Being the one who gets to show off the campus, the city, all the cool spots to foreign students...”
“Could’ve been cool, sure. But we had this ridiculous itinerary we had to stick to, as well as a fucking pre-written script telling us exactly what to say. Forced to follow a step-by-step guide and recite shit like we were on some kindergarten field trip. Mind you, all of the materials we were using today could be easily downloaded from the website. You saw it. Lame. Ass. Shit.”
Caesar had absolutely no idea what the ‘itinerary’ word meant, but decided it wasn’t worth bringing up. From the conversation’s context he could pretty much guess what Joseph was referring to.
“Well… can’t argue with such statement. I was expecting something quite different myself.”
Joseph took a long sip from his drink, the look in his eyes shifting to something more thoughtful.
“Yeah, honestly, they could’ve put a little more effort into making it, I don’t know... interesting? Worthwhile? At least offer something a bit more authentic.”
Caesar nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.
“Yeah, the whole thing felt so stiff. I didn’t really learn anything new that I hadn’t already read online.”
Joseph caught the disgruntled look in Caesar’s eyes, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. And then, a moment later, the blonde was caught off guard by an offer he never would have expected.
“Hey, how about I fix what they so spectacularly screwed up? Let me give you the kind of tour they should’ve.”
Wait, what?
First of all, they screwed up? Caesar nearly scoffed at the thought. If there was one person who had put in the absolute least amount of effort during the entire program, it was Joseph. And now he was supposed to trust him to do a better job the second time around?
“You were literally the shittiest guide I could've imagined,” Caesar stated boldly, not troubling himself with gentler words.
“Rude. But this time it'll be different! I'm not being forced and actually feel like doing it. So, what do you say?”
Caesar felt the urge to roll his eyes and brush it off with some dry remark. It was just Joseph being Joseph, running his mouth as always. But damn it, something about such an offer seemed impossible to dismiss outright.
I’m gonna regret this.