Chapter Text
As soon as he had arrived in the edges of Monaco, Gabriel Bortoleto knew it was going to be hard for him. While his scholarships covered his tuition, he had merely the few hundred euros his mother had sent with him and his school-level understanding of French and English to support him. He did not follow his friends from high school to the local Brazilian schools. Ever since he had first felt the softness of clay forming under his hands he knew he wanted to become an artist. He wanted to sculpt, the only desire that pulled at his heart strings since that faithful moment as a young boy was to make his world out of clay. Throughout high school, he won award after award in as many competitions as he could find. His name became known throughout Sao Paulo and the scholarships rolled in like a stream once he reached his junior year. They were all tempting, all of them filled his desire to live and breathe clay- potter’s lung be damned- but one in particular stood out to him. ‘The Nino Farina School of Arts’ in Monaco. As a preteen, Gabriel had only ever heard of the school in the highest regards, anybody who was anybody went to Farina.
So, there he stood on one cold and dim August afternoon. His assigned dorm hall towered in front of him, it was small enough to feel homey but the structure alone asserted power over the mere walker-by, Mansell Hall. His journey had already felt like eons, with over 18 hours spent in the air and the most exhausting taxi ride of all time. With three bags by his side and disheveled hair he finally made the move to ascend the staircase to his new ‘home’.
Gabriel was surprised as he heard the hum of a bass-beat through the door, he had not expected his roommate to already be there. A quick look at the door as he fumbled for his allotted roomkey allowed him to see who this mysterious roomie would be. ‘Oliver B.’ Adorned the left side of the door. Finally, as he balanced his bags on his leg he was able to push open the rickety aged door. “Hello..?” He called lightly, a nervous twang coating the end of his words. God, he hoped his roommate would be patient with him, his brain was already scrambling between English, French, and Brazilian-Portuguese.
“Oh! Hello!” A tall man- Oliver- beamed towards the slightly shorter man. “You must be Gay-briel.”
Gabriel stifled his wince at the pronunciation, instead offering a small smile and a gentle wave. “Ah, yes. You are Oliver?” He coughed out, sliding his bags towards the empty side of the room. “It is nice to meet you.”
“Just call me Ollie! Are you also a freshman?” The man all but bounced as he spoke with Gabriel. His energy reminded the latter of a freshly born bearcub, filhote de urso. It made the brazilian smile lazily. “Yes, I am a freshman in Sculpture. And you?”
“Oooh, that is very cool, Gay-briel. I’m studying Fashion!” The bright eyed boy bolstered towards him, grabbing a bag off of his hands. “I can help you unpack, I have nothing else to do.”
“Obrigado, Ollie.” He smiled back, plopping down into the school provided deskchair, “I do not mean to be rude but it is Gabriel, not Gay-briel.” He blushed, looking down nervously.
“I’m sorry!” Ollie blurted out, his filhote eyes now softened into a gentle sorrow. “I am still learning.”
“It is alright, Ollie.” Gabriel reassured, shaking his curly hair as he reached to unpack his favorite ceramic tools. “I am learning too. English and French, I mean.”
“Oh, is English not your language?” Ollie tilted his head, plopping down into his own desk chair and popping a lollipop into his mouth.
“Não, Portuguese.” Gabriel answered, shoulders relaxing as the two of them fell into comfortable small talk, Oliver’s speaker gently playing bass-heavy songs in the background.
The duo stayed like that for a long while, gentle chatter as they settled into the soft and comfortable area of Mansell Hall. It helped, Gabriel thought, knowing that at least he would know Ollie as the semester went on and on. Even if that was it, he would be fine, just as his mãe had reassured him. All he needed was the feeling of clay between his hands, the motion as it smoothes beneath the pressure of his worn palms. But, he could at least rely on Oliver to correct his broken English or mediocre French.
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Gabriel knew that this was not going to be easy, anybody with a fully functioning brain would know that, however he still was not expecting the very first day to be this difficult. He had woken up early, 8am. He quickly made himself a cup of his precious yerba mate, allowing himself a quiet chuckle at the state of Ollie completely sprawled out on his bed, the man's long legs dangling off like a scene from ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.’ From their first floor dorm room, he then made his way towards the common room, a taunting smell of sausage links sizzling through the hall. As soon as he breached the doorway of the room, he was met with four pairs of eyes looking back at him. He immediately stiffened up.
“Oh! You must be one of the new freshmen.” One of them spoke up, his hair was a dirty sort-of blonde and his eyes were a remarkable blue. Gabriel could not quite tell where his accent came from, its tone unfamiliar as it penetrated his eardrums.
“Hello?” He shyly waved, his sneakers softly pattering on the floor. “I am Gabriel, I live on the first floor with Ollie.”
The dark curly haired man to the left of the blonde smiled back, obviously the most sure in himself of the four. “Right on, mate! I’m Lando Norris, we were just having some brekkie’ here.”
Gabriel nodded cautiously, not making an effort to move as the other three still looked at him with uncertainty. “Well, I- uh- I was going to make myself some eggs if that’s alright.”
“No, no, of course mate. I’m Oscar, by the way.” A dimpled man waved, reassuring Gabriel of his use of the kitchen. “Sorry, we aren’t quite used to being upper classmen.”
Before he could answer, the curly haired man from earlier, Lando, started to bicker with Oscar about a topic that Gabriel, starving as he was, could care less about. He carefully walked his way towards the cheaply put together kitchen arrangement pulling a carton of eggs out of his tote. He was hopeful that he would be able to cook and eat in a content silence.
Rather, he was met with a tall blue-eyed gentleman leaning in the corridor when he turned to search for his salt and pepper. He couldn’t help the subtle flinch that echoed through his shoulders when he noticed the man. Unsure what to do, he stood frozen for a few moments.
“You must be Gabriel.” The tall man smiled, his posture nothing short of perfect as he approached the younger. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m George Russell, I’m one of the RA’s here in Mansell.” His explanation did little to ease the tension in the young man’s shoulders but he nodded anyway.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Russell.” Gabriel nodded, turning swiftly on his heel to return to his now scrambled eggs. “Do I need to do anything?”
“No, no worries. I just wanted to introduce myself! The other RA, Carlos, will be around for our hall meeting this evening, you received the message in the group chat right?” George talked, his voice even and calm yet full of a seriousness that unsettled Gabriel just the slightest.
“What groupchat?” The Brazilian responded, his head tilted to the side just a hair.
“Oh goodness! We must have missed you by accident, I will add you after breakfast, it is how we all communicate with each other. Mansel Hall is the smallest of those on campus so we try to emulate a tight-knit community.” George spoke, and as he did the younger with his slightly burnt eggs couldn’t help but wonder how many times the man had given the exact same speech.
Gabriel sat quietly at one of the provided tables, his airpods playing a familiar tune that he couldn’t quite place. He wouldn’t say he disliked the university, he had barely just arrived, but it was apparent to him that in the current moment he was the odd duck. While George had quickly found himself chattering away with other residents, Gabriel only received confused glances and generous smiles. He didn’t necessarily mind this quietness, but it was different from when he was at home. He had friends in the studios back home, people who would talk with him as they ate bread and peeled dry clay from their forearms.
He had a hunch he was not going to find that within the ‘tight-knit community’ of Mansell Hall.
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{New Notification} You have been added to the ‘Mansell Hall OFFICIAL’ group chat….
George Russell pinned a message!
George Russell: Welcome and Welcome Back! Carlos and I are thrilled to have SIX new residents this semester and we hope you all will make them feel welcome. Please introduce yourself under this message. I will start with an example.
⤷ George Russell: I am George Russel from the UKl, a junior, I live in room 286 with Alexander and I am studying Animation.
Carlos: Welcome! I am Carlos Sainz from Spain, a senior, I live alone on the third floor (355) and I study Sculpture & Business
Lando: Lando Norris, UK, junior, room w Osc, Architecture :p
Zhou: My name is Zhou Guanyu, I am from China, a sophomore and I study Fashion & Textile
Yuki: Zhou my south east asian goat fr fr
Lando: Who taught yuki how to talk like that
George Russell: Can we please get back on track?
Yuki: Sorry Georgie. I am Yuki, Japan, roommates with my loser friend Liam, studying painting
Alex: I heard we were repping south east asia?
Yuki: my other goat fr fr
George Russell: Alex, Yuki.
Alex: Sorry, George can be pretty hardcore at first.
Alex: My name is Alexander Albon, Thai/UK, I live with our glorious head RA George Russell, and I am studying Sculpture.
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So, maybe Gabriel would be proven wrong. In the brief texts he was able to scroll before Professor Hulkenburg walked in he had already seen two sculpture majors like himself. He continued to read the incoming texts as they rolled in.
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New messages in: Mansell Hall OFFICIAL
Oscar: Hi, I’m Oscar, Australia. Room 182 with Lan. Architecture
Lando: omg hi osc
Oscar: Hi, Lan.
Logan: Gross.
Logan: Hey! My name is Logan Sargeant, a sophomore, I am from the U.S.A, I live in room 126 with Zhou! I am studying Art History.
Franco: I am Franco Colapinto, Argentina, freshman. I do not remember the door or roommate. Studying Latin Art History
Jack: I am the roommate, it is 350.
Jack: Jack Doohan, Australia (oscar where r tim tams?) freshie, Art therapy
Mick: JACK???
Jack: ….mick?
Mick: I did not know you were going to Farina!
Jack: ah, yes. Well now you know?
George Russell: Mick. Introductions.
Mick: Right, sorry George! My name is Mick, a sophomore, studying Jewelry & Metal. I am roommates with Max.
Max: Max Verstappen. Senior. Jewelry & Metal.
George Russell: As bright as always, Verstappen.
Max: No one asked you
George Russell is typing….
Alex: No. Introductions, continue.
Esteban: Bonjour! Je m'appelle Esteban, je viens de France. J'étudie l'art-thérapie et je vis avec Lance.
Lance: in english, for the love of god.
Esteban: we are in french school, we should speak french.
⤷ Charles: It is Monaco, not France. Monegasque school, not French school.
Esteban: But fine.
Esteban: Hello, I am Esteban, I am studying art therapy and I live with Lance.
Charles: Charles Leclerc, Monaco, Junior, Art History. I am in room 226 with Pierre. And I have a dog named Leo :0
Lance: my name is lance strulovitch. senior, canada, graphic design. estie and i live in room 249.
Andrea Kimi: Oh ew who made this my name
Andrea Kimi: I am Kimi Antonelli, from Italy. I am a freshman studying digital arts (I think), I live in room 318 with Isack.
George Russell changed ‘Andrea Kimi’ to ‘Kimi’
George Russell: Sorry, Kimi.
Oliver: I also have a dislike for this contact name.
Oliver: Hi! I’m Ollie Bearman, most of you already know me because of Charles, but for those who do not-
Oliver: I study Fashion & Textile, a freshman and I live in room 186 with Gabriel!
George Russell changed ‘Oliver’ to ‘Ollie’
George Russell: Maybe I should’ve asked before I made all these contact names…
Gabriel: Gabriel Bortoleto Oliveira, Sculpture, Freshman
Gabriel: But most people just call me Gabi.
Gabriel: Sorry for the late reply, class ran long.
George Russell changed ‘Gabriel’ to ‘Gabi’
George Russell: Do not worry about lateness. There are two and a half frenchmen in this group, they are always late.
Pierre: Rude.
Esteban: Rude.
Charles: I am NOT any part french.
Isack: Rude.
Alex: *Three and a half frenchman
Pierre: Well, since I have been attacked I suppose I will introduce myself. Pierre Gasly, Senior, Music Composition.
Liam: wait, you do music?
Pierre: Oui.
Liam: sick, i do songwriting
Liam: i’m liam from nz, i room with yuki, and i am not actually a loser.
Yuki: No, he's a huge loser.
Isack: I hate to inflate false stereotypes but I guess I'm the last one.
Isack: Isack Hadjar, French, Kimi’s roommate. I study painting.
Carlos has changed ‘George Russell’ to ‘George’
Carlos: sorry man, it was pissing me off
George is typing…
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As Gabriel sat in the dining hall, a gray looking meal sat in the tray before him, he scrolled through the previous messages. Trying to commit to memory all of the names, giggling here and there at the seemingly eased banter of the older residents. It had lessened his stress to learn that he was not the only newcomer to their small dorm hall, but he couldn’t help but feel less than as he struggled with certain words, as well as Esteban’s completely french introduction. However, there was one particular person whose introduction had specifically captured the young man’s eye. A latino, just as himself, and not a presumably well off spanish man like Carlos. Someone like him, who had lived through the brutally hot South American lifestyles. And despite being an Argentinian, likely the person who had the most in common with him.
Franco Colapinto.