After that first night at the socialite party, I realized pretty quickly that if I was going to survive in Vanessa's world, I needed to learn Italian. It wasn't just about fitting in—it was about understanding what the hell was going on around me. Everyone at the party had spoken so quickly, so fluently, and I'd been lost in the sea of their words. It was humiliating.
But, like most things in life, I figured I could work my way through it. I just needed some help.
I started paying closer attention to the staff in Vanessa's mansion. There was something I hadn't fully noticed before: she only had male butlers. It struck me as odd, but this was Vanessa we were talking about. Nothing in her world was ever simple. The butlers were all tall, neatly dressed in black suits, and impossibly professional. They moved around the house quietly, always there when needed, but never intrusive. And, of course, they all spoke perfect Italian.
One day, while Vanessa was out at a meeting, I was wandering through the mansion's grand library—a room filled with old books, leather chairs, and an air of understated luxury—when I ran into one of the butlers. His name was Lorenzo, and he was one of the younger guys, maybe in his early thirties. He had a sharp look about him, dark hair slicked back, and he always seemed to be in control, like he knew exactly what needed to be done without asking.
"Hey, Lorenzo," I said, leaning against one of the shelves. "Got a minute?"
He turned toward me, his face as unreadable as ever, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Of course, Signor Tristan. How may I assist you?"
I hesitated, feeling a little awkward. Asking one of Vanessa's butlers for a favor felt... strange, but I needed to do this. "I've been thinking... I need to learn Italian. And I figured, you know, since you're fluent and all, maybe you could help me out."
Lorenzo's eyebrows raised slightly, and for the first time, I saw the hint of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. "You wish to learn Italian?"
I nodded. "Yeah. I can't keep going to these parties and just nodding along like I know what's happening. It's embarrassing."
Lorenzo chuckled softly, the sound surprising me. He was always so serious, so professional, but here in the quiet of the library, he seemed a little more... human. "I understand, Signor. It can be difficult to navigate conversations when you do not understand the language."
"Exactly," I said, grateful that he seemed to get it. "So, would you be up for it? Teaching me?"
He tilted his head slightly, considering my request for a moment. "It would be my pleasure to help you learn, Signor Tristan. We can start with the basics, and I will assist you whenever time permits."
I grinned, relieved that he was on board. "Great! When do we start?"
Lorenzo smiled faintly. "We can begin now, if you'd like."
And just like that, my lessons began. We started with simple things—basic phrases, greetings, and vocabulary. Lorenzo had a way of teaching that was calm, methodical, and clear. He didn't rush me or make me feel stupid when I messed up, and trust me, I messed up a lot in the beginning.
"Buongiorno," Lorenzo would say, repeating it slowly for me.
"Buongiorno," I mimicked, trying to get the pronunciation right.
"Bene," he'd say with a nod. "Now, let's try 'Come stai?' It means, 'How are you?'"
I fumbled through it at first, but with Lorenzo's patient guidance, I started picking it up. We'd spend an hour or so each day going over new words and phrases, and little by little, I began to feel more comfortable with the language.
One afternoon, after a particularly frustrating session where I just couldn't seem to get the sentence structure right, I threw my hands up in frustration. "Goddamn it, Italian's harder than it looks."
Lorenzo, who was sitting across from me at one of the library tables, chuckled softly. "It's not easy, but you're improving quickly. Patience is key, Signor Tristan."
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Yeah, well, patience has never been my strong suit."
He smirked, standing up and walking over to the bookshelf. "Let's take a break from grammar for today. We'll focus on conversation instead. It might help you relax."
"Yeah? Alright, let's give it a shot," I said, leaning back in my chair.
Lorenzo nodded and began asking me simple questions in Italian. "Qual è il tuo nome?" he asked, which I knew meant, "What is your name?"
"Mi chiamo Tristan," I replied, feeling a little more confident.
"Bene," he said with approval. "E quanti anni hai?" How old are you?
I paused for a second before replying. "Ho ventiquattro anni."
Lorenzo smiled, clearly pleased with my progress. "You see? You're getting better every day."
I grinned, feeling a sense of accomplishment that I hadn't felt in a while. "Thanks, man. I appreciate you taking the time to do this."
He gave me a small bow, his professionalism slipping back into place. "It is my pleasure, Signor Tristan. Learning the language will make your time here in Italy much more enjoyable."
The more I learned, the more I noticed how much the language opened up for me. I started catching bits and pieces of conversations Vanessa had with her family, her business partners, and her friends. I wasn't fluent yet, but I was getting there, and it felt good to be able to contribute more than a blank stare and a polite nod.
One evening, after a few weeks of lessons, Vanessa and I were having dinner in the grand dining room. It was just the two of us, and the atmosphere was relaxed. The long table, covered in silverware and expensive china, was ridiculously extravagant for a casual meal, but that was just how things were in her world.
"You've been spending a lot of time with Lorenzo," she remarked, sipping her wine.
I nodded, cutting into the perfectly cooked steak on my plate. "Yeah. He's been teaching me Italian. I'm getting pretty good at it, I think."
Vanessa smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I noticed. You're picking it up faster than I thought."
"Thanks. I figured if I'm going to keep going to these events with you, I need to at least understand what people are saying."
She chuckled, setting her glass down. "You're not wrong. It'll make things much easier for you."
I leaned back in my chair, feeling a little more confident in my place here. "And hey, it's nice to actually be able to talk to Lorenzo and the other staff. I've learned more about them in the last couple of weeks than I ever knew before."
Vanessa nodded thoughtfully. "I'm glad to see you're settling in. This world can be... overwhelming at times, but you're adapting well."
I smiled, feeling like I was finally finding my footing. "Yeah. I think I'm starting to figure it out."
And with that, I realized that maybe, just maybe, this new chapter in Milan wasn't going to be as difficult as I'd feared. Between the lessons with Lorenzo and the support from Vanessa, I was slowly carving out my place in this world.
Q: How many languages do you know?