Side Characters in a Nutshell

fancy meeting you here

Rome. The origin of the long lost empire, home of culture, a city where all the roads lead you to.

Personally, Marco thought that it should be known as the place where anyone can step on your toes without even noticing.

Yes, it just happened. Yes, he was petty.

At this point, he didn't even know where the heat came from - inside of him, because of his anger at the weather or outside, because of the weather itself?

Here he was, standing under a sun much too bright for the beginning of May, moving through the crowd and trying to find his classmates. Even if his friends repeatedly told him that he was always annoyed and in a state of yelling, he thought that they exaggerated. He might need to retract that statement, now.

Where are they?, he asked himself, already feeling a mild panic settle in him. That was also a thing they said he often did, and he had to agree with those assholes again.

For the fifth time this hour he asked himself if being here was really important. It was Sunday, and it was the May 1st, and they were in Vatican waiting for Pope's speech that most of them won't even understand since they barely knew any Italian. Surely you can see how poorly planned that is.

After still not finding them, he fumbled for his phone that he accidentally forgot to charge yesterday. He only had 5% of battery now, but it ought to be enough.

The crowd grew bigger with the anticipation of Pope's speech, but Marco only wanted to find his damn class and a shade under a building, maybe a bench to sit on too. After two days of being in Rome, with perfect deduction skills, he realised that it was forbidden to sit on the sidewalk, not matter how tired you were. If you were stupid enough to do that, a soldier on duty would approach you in less than two minutes and order you to stand up.

(Of course it happened to him, and not only once.)

After finally finding a contact of his hotel roommate, a millisecond before he was supposed to press the call button, his shitty old phone turned off, as good as dead.

Wonderful.

And so he had decided to stop moving lest he got lost even more than he already had. Pope started speaking and, with his poor Italian, he was surprised to catch every third word. Considering his vocabulary was mostly learned from Italian telenovelas, he counted that as a win.

For some reason, he felt a weird sense of foreboding, but couldn't exactly pinpoint why. After Pope's speech, the crowd finally lessened, and he remembered that they were here to visit San Pietro basilica, and so he moved in the direction of a long line before the entrance.

It took him only a moment to realise what was wrong and oh, how he later wished that he had at least two minutes to prepare.

There weren't any guards.

Oh no.

Only a moment later there was the sound of a gun, in a very close proximity to him, and he ducked down, accompanied by people's screams.

He could see two groups of men and women alike, aiming their weapons in the direction of the other group. In the centre were two men, a scowling and older one who was so buff that Marco briefly wondered how his button-up didn't rip by now, and one in his twenties that looked much less buff, but nevertheless intimidating.

However, in the arms of the second man was a petite woman, clinging to him for a dear life. It only took a glance to realise that it was her they were fighting for. One part of Marco, the one he was terribly ashamed of, relished the moment that was just like in his telenovelas.

That moment didn't last long, though.

"If Esmeralda isn't in my hands in two minutes, I will..." the buff guy stopped, turned his head and locked his eyes on Marco. Without a moment of thought, he was swept up by his collar, and a gun was pressed on his temple.

Dear God, please, I will go to church every Sunday, please, I'm only fifteen, please let me live, I beg... Marco prayed desperately, barely hearing anything from the rush of blood in his ears. The younger man's gaze was like steel, and the woman started shivering and pressed tighter towards him.

Good for you, Marco thought sourly.

From the corner of his eyes, he caught his classmates looking at him with horror and his teacher fainting. That isn't helping anyone, Margaret!

It all happened in a moment; buff guy prepared to shoot and spill his brains out, but like magic, a white dove flew over their heads and promptly took its shit on Marco's head. It was enough distraction for the younger man to make his move, and Marco was suddenly free and pulled into the crowd.

He didn't remember anything after, because he fainted.