Chapter 22
Marco opened the door and outside stood a man with a boyish grin and a look of mischief. He was quite different from Marco, with dirty blond hair in a man bun, amber eyes, and a well-toned body. He seemed to be just a few inches shorter than Marco. He was handsome and could definitely be a model, but he still wasn't Marco, Melina thought.
He was holding quite a few shopping bags, which he quickly handed to Marco. He jumped through the door and enveloped Melina in a bear hug, kissing both her cheeks.
"You must be Melina. I am Alessio. So nice to meet you," he said.
"Hi Alessio, it's really nice to meet you too. Thank you for bringing all these things for me, I really appreciate it," she said shyly. She had always felt awkward when meeting new people, but Alessio was very warm and made her feel at ease right away.
Marco closed the door and took the bags up the stairs and left them there for later. Melina and Alessio were already in the living room.
"Come on, fratello. Now is the moment I've been waiting for forever. Time to share embarrassing stories about you with your girl," Alessio said with a mischievous smile.
"Don't you dare, asshole," Marco replied and rushed to Melina's side, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her close to him.
"Why not? I love a good embarrassing story. And besides, this should be your punishment for doing a background check on me!" Melina said.
"That's not fair, bella. Your best friends are not close enough for me to hear embarrassing stories about you as well," Marco said.
"Life's not fair, princess, so suck it up," Melina replied and pinched his arm playfully.
Marco sighed with resignation, and Alessio smirked. They spent the following two hours with Alessio sharing embarrassing stories, and Melina was laughing so hard that she had tears in her eyes. All this, while Marco was sulking next to her, not very happy with his best friend embarrassing him like that. The stories included some of the most embarrassing moments in Marco's life—from how his mom caught him with a Playboy magazine relieving himself in his bedroom, to being drunk and dancing the tarantella on his own at a nightclub. Melina enjoyed the stories, and when she realized that Marco's ears were slightly red, she said:
"Maybe you can teach me the tarantella, and next time you won't have to dance on your own," she told him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you, amore," Marco said and squeezed her hand. "I have embarrassing stories about Alessio as well," he said and gave his friend a devilish smirk.
"Oh, do tell!" Melina said, clapping her hands.
"Try your worst, fratello. I cannot be embarrassed easily," Alessio said cockily.
"Let's put it to the test then, shall we?" Marco said smugly. "It was a couple of years ago, around 22:00, and Alessio called me—"
"Nooooo. That's not cool, man. Not this story," Alessio pleaded.
"Not so cocky anymore, are you?" Marco smirked.
"Oh, this sounds like a good story. I definitely want to hear it," Melina said.
"Fine," Alessio sighed.
"So, Alessio called me late that night and he sounded panicked. I asked him what happened and he practically whispered, 'I shat myself at the gym.' I had already started laughing, but I needed more details, so I asked him what happened.
‘I was lifting weights and I felt like I needed to fart, so I farted, only I felt something liquid running down my thighs.’
Obviously, I started laughing harder because I imagined that he was lifting weights while standing in front of the mirror and when he squatted, it happened. But I got it wrong.
‘I was on the bench when it happened and when I stood up, I could see something on the bench, so I had to clean it. But I also saw that I had two people behind me. They could definitely smell something, so I had to clean it fast, but I could still feel something running down my thigh, so I had to hold the hem of my shorts and pretend I pulled my hamstring while I used a paper towel to clean the bench.’
At this point, I was out of breath in a fit of laughter and thought that was it, but the story continued.
‘I had to go to the toilet to assess the damage, so I got in one of the cubicles and pulled my pants down. It was not salvageable, so I took my briefs off and folded them to keep the shits in, then pulled my shorts back up after I wiped my ass with almost a whole toilet roll. The plan was to throw my briefs in the bin, but there was no bin in the cubicle—only one outside by the sinks. But I couldn’t go out, because the fucking toilets were in rush hour mode and there were at least 4–5 people constantly outside, so I did the only thing I could: lowered the toilet lid, hid my briefs, and lifted the lid back up. I got out of the cubicle, washed my hands fast so no one would suspect anything, and I ran to my car.’
At this point, I was trying not to piss myself. And then came the horror question:
‘Could you maybe go to the gym and see if my briefs are still there, and if they are, throw them in the bin?’
Obviously, I didn't. So he said he would pick them up the following day, even though I told him there was no chance they would still be there.
Anyway, the next day he went back and started texting me:
‘I got to the gym. Everyone is looking at me. They must have found my shitty briefs. They’re looking at me and thinking I’m the dirty bastard who shits himself.’
And a few minutes later:
‘My briefs are not there. I cancelled my membership. I’m joining a new gym. I can’t go back there.’
And he actually joined a new gym."
Melina was in a fit of laughter throughout the whole story and even made a few snorting sounds, which Marco found adorable.
"The story doesn't end there," Marco said.
"Come on man, you are killing me!" Alessio said.
"You can’t just give me part of the story. I need to hear it all," Melina jumped in, still with tears in her eyes from the story.