Anger Management [Meloghia]

Chapter 40: Polvere di Stella

The music was loud and a flash of rainbow lights hailed down on the group. Fugo trailed after Narancia who pulled him along behind Mista. The place was surprisingly full for a Monday. Not like the crowds of the weekends, but still more than Fugo had expected to be out. He supposed Mondays were just that bland and required a pick-me-up from the beginning of the workweek drudge. He looked around for Ghiaccio but didn't see him anywhere. He thought about texting him but figured he'd bump into him eventually, especially if he stuck with Narancia who talked to everyone if given enough time. Fugo followed Narancia and Mista around the club as they ran into Formaggio, Pesci, and Illuso.

"Hey, man. How's it hanging?" Mista said to Formaggio as they clasped hands and patted each other on the back. Naranica bounced up to Illuso and held out his fist. Illuso raised his brow and returned the fist-bump. Fugo remained behind a bit. He smiled and nodded at Pesci who smiled and waved back. He was already feeling on edge being around Illuso, but he seemed to be at ease right now. Relax Fugo. Just coast with Narancia and everything will be fine. They talked some and went to get drinks. Fugo listened to their banter while they drank.

"Dude, remember that chick we were talking to at the mixer?" Formaggio addressed Mista.

"Yeah?"

"Bagged her," Formaggio boasted.

Mista sneered and shoved him. "Aw, fuck off man! You just wanted to rub my face in it."

"Hell yeah, I did, motherfucker! You were supposed to be my wingman! Payback's a bitch," Formaggio snickered.

"I coulda got her," Mista retorted.

"Maybe if your leash wasn't so damn tight," Formaggio jabbed. Illuso whistled at the burn and Narancia laughed. Fugo chuckled at that one. Mista always did whatever Giorno wanted without question.

"Shut the fuck up, Nara," Mista snapped.

"Aw, damn Guido. He got you. You don't even have a woman and you're whipped," Narancia cackled. Fugo shook his head. It couldn't have been more true.

"Daaammmn, Narancia!" Formaggio high-fived Narancia, laughing.

"Fuck off both of you. Fugo's got my back. Right, man?" Mista turned to look at him and Fugo immediately deadpanned.

"If Giorno says rollover, you'll say 'For how long?'" Fugo said, crossing his arms. Mista's jaw dropped. Illuso snickered but quickly stifled it. Well, he thought that was funny at least.

Illuso rested his elbow on Formaggio's shoulder and laid into Mista, adding, "Whether Giorno says sit, stay, or beg, the Don's watchdog will do anything his highness says."

"I think Giorno's the one begging..." Fugo muttered. Illuso snorted in response.

"What?" Mista perked up only for Narancia to double over laughing, tears forming in his eyes. Melone appeared behind Mista and put his hands on Mista's shoulders. He shuddered to escape the grip.

"Oooo, Guido. Who's begging?" Melone purred from behind Mista. "And how can we make it me?" He bit his lip as he smiled seductively.

"Yo! Get off me!" Mista quickly shook him off, but still shimmied his shoulders like there was something still stuck to them. Ghiaccio stood next to Melone, arms folded and unamused.

"Glass! Hey!" Fugo's spirits rose higher, even in the presence of Illuso. Now that Ghiaccio was here, he could feel more at ease. Ghiaccio wouldn't let Illuso say anything without receiving a tongue-lashing. Fugo moved over to stand on Ghiaccio's other side and slung an arm around him. "Been looking for ya."

"We've been around." Ghiaccio shrugged. "Melone's been collecting drinks."

"Ghia-baby, I can't help if everyone wants this," Melone said and posed with his hand on his hip. The opposite hand ran through his hair, flipping it to the side. "Nothing wrong with accepting a free drink."