ANGEL | caejose

prologue ; angelic

Walking down the road, his chest felt bitter. His decisions were never well thought out and always last minute but they were decisions that usually led to greatness. His witty banter and quick thinking always worked out for him, even if some of them had a rough start.

But in this case, Joseph Joestar was sure he had made the wrong decision. Just a couple of months after turning 17, he should have known that his new age didn't make him any more special.

Bag strapped onto his back, his back hunched, Joseph scratched his neck and sighed in defeat. Not once in his life had he expected him, out of all people, to be in that slumped position.

"Good morning, Golden Wind Radio, how is everyone doing today?" Though it was faint, Joseph could hear the sound of a man speaking from what sounded like a television. Turning his head, he looked around and found himself on the side of a road, but with a beach on his left that required at least 2 flights of stairs to go down to.

"Can you be a bit more quieter? It's too early for this." A high-pitched voice, but still sounding as if it belonged to a male, mumbled pathetically.

Joseph gazed down at the beach, hanging onto the railings for his peace of mind, there was a humble wooden shack down below with a small radio hanging from the counter. So that's where the voices were coming from, Joseph thought.

"This is your job." A deep voice sourly reprimanded the other. As the man continued to talk, Joseph could barely hear the sound of it from his distance, making him release another sigh in annoyance.

"Don't be such a baby, Abbachio, you're always like this. Maybe if you were more relaxed, girls would actually like you." The high-pitched voice jested.

"What?" The deep-voiced man, now identified as Abbachio, grunted. Turning to his right, Joseph sat down on the dusty bench and placed his bag beside him. Laying on it as if it were a pillow, he closed his eyes and listened to the radio with the ocean in the background.

"Do you have to argue first thing in the morning?" A more refined voice asked from out of nowhere.

"Stay out of it, Fugo," Abbachio demanded with a loud bang, most likely him slamming the table.

"He's right, Abbachio." The first voice said. "Plus, we have another person joining us from now on, this isn't exactly the best first impression." If possible, Joseph would've disagreed.

"We do?" Another new voice inquired, this time somehow sounding a bit dimmer than most of them. "Where is he?"

"This is Giorno Giovanna." The first voice introduced and Joseph suddenly wondered how many people were part of the group.

"Oi, Bruno, you didn't say anything about a new member," Abbachio complained.

"Well, 1999 is just around the corner. It's not so bad to get new members every once in a while, right?" The man now known as Bruno reasoned.

Ah, Joseph had nearly forgotten. He was turning 18 next year, the age at which he was supposed to take full responsibility for himself.

"Oi, Narancia! The hell are you doing?" Abbachio yelled and the high-pitched voice started childishly giggling, leaving Joseph in wonder.

But while listening to their banter, Joseph couldn't help but quickly drift into slumber while on the bench. And without even saying anything, he knew that he was going to come back to this place sooner or later.