You and Melone have a very strange relationship. Or rather, not a relationship at all. Or rather... It's hard to say.

You met no more than a year ago. He was only interested in you because you had a Stand. Otherwise, he wouldn't have even looked at you—an ordinary kid, a middle or high school student. In terms of life, you're much younger than him. You shouldn't have even started being friends, if you can call it that. He saw you with your Stand outside school one time, and he initiated a quick chat. Then it turned out you were walking home past his gang's base. And you started talking more and more often. Just like now.

— Baby, remind me, what time does your mom let you stay out until?

He leans toward you slightly. His hand lands on your shoulder, his fingers gently, playfully, rubbing the thin fabric of your shirt. He was always tactile, whether intended or not. But even if he could allow himself to joke around with you inappropriately, he'd never do anything. Children aren't for him. He just enjoys embarrassing you, or making you think about something. He's having fun. He only stays with you if he's bored. You have his number, he has yours, in case your Stand does come in handy somewhere. And he could...

— I've got some business to run. I need to go somewhere pretty far, okay? It'll only take a couple of minutes. It's just that none of our guys are in Naples.