Hualian's Roman Holiday

I. Where's the Trevi Fountain?

Hua Cheng should know better than be dragged out by He Xuan for one beer. The one beer became many, and now it was almost midnight, and he desperately needed to get some sleep. He'd have an early start the following day: seeing Jun Wu, his editor at Heavenly Court, to talk about that press conference he'd be attending at 11, something that still puzzled him.

In Rome, 1968, youth culture was everywhere: music, fashion, films and tv shows, design. Bright young things like Hua Cheng, with their colourfully skinny clothes and pork-pie hats, riding their Vespas, called themselves mods – he wasn't just a pretty face though, he had a job.

Walking fast on the badly-lit cobbled streets of the city centre, he heard someone call,

"Scusa, signore?"

He stopped and looked where the voice came from: a young man, good-looking and well-dressed. 'Super well-cut suit, bespoke probably', Hua Cheng determined, all-knowing. The man seemed confused, maybe he didn't speak any more Italian, so Hua Cheng asked in English,

"Can I help you?"

"Where's the Trevi Fountain please?", he asked.

Visiting the Trevi Fountain at that time! Tourists, he thought. He wondered how to explain it: the fountain wasn't far, but there were many twists and turns. And at that time, it'd be hard to find anyone to ask information. He noticed the man didn't seem well and said,

"Why don't you go home and visit the fountain tomorrow first thing, better than visiting at night", he suggested, but he was lying: the Trevi Fountain was stunning at any time of the day, specially at night when it was all lit up. The man slowly sat down on the steps of a building, closing his eyes.

"Hey, you're alright?"

"Yes thank you, just catching my breath".

Hua Cheng looked around, wondering where it'd be easier to call a taxi; when he looked back, the man was fast asleep, even snoring lightly. He pffted a laugh and squatted in front of him,

"You had one too many eh? Guess it's no Trevi Fountain for you tonight", he said, patting the other on the cheek; then he got up and tipped his hat to him, saying, "Buonanotte, signore".

But before he walked away, he hesitated. That guy was very young, cute, and had "rich kid" written all over him. Was it alright to leave him just like that, sleeping at the steps of some old building in those dark alleys? He might be kidnapped, or abused, or... Hua Cheng sighed, and went back, squatting in front of him again,

"Hey. Hey, do you remember where you're staying? Your hotel? Can I get you a taxi?"

He moaned back, "Hum, Trevi Fountain", and no matter how much Hua Cheng shook him he'd sleepily just say nonsense things like "Aperol Spritz", or "Grazie mille".

'I can take him to crash in my couch I suppose', he thought. It wasn't his business, but...

"Right, do you wanna come to my palazzo then? I can't leave you by yourself sleeping on the streets like that! Come", he grabbed his arms, lifting him, but he couldn't walk, and Hua Cheng ended up giving him a piggy back ride.

"God, you're heavy!", he complained breathlessly, "You look skinny but you're so heavy!"

Deeply resenting that guy but helping him out all the same, Hua Cheng carried on his way, minding his steps on the uneven roads. 

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