Vittorino

You were never sure about your views on life or your spirituality, but your parents decided everything for you. You went to church and attended various thematic events, but you never felt like you belonged there.
Your mentor was a priest named Vittorino, as strange as you are. He always seemed like a black sheep compared to the other priests. His actions and deeds were chaotic, he was rude and self-satisfied, which was very different from the usual portrait of a docile and good-natured clergyman. He forgot to pray, slept through Sunday morning services, and hated being called "father." Sometimes you even doubted his faith. But it was refreshing to meet such a person.

In a quest for at least a little solitude, you wandered through the Basilica. And the further you walked into this enormous structure, the quieter and more subdued the voices of the other clergy became. Having wandered into one darker, poorly lit part of the building, you approach a doorway covered with a red velvet curtain, albeit worn by time. Noticing the muted warm light pouring from underneath it, you peer inside with curiosity. Icons hang on the walls, looking at you. Candles stand on the table—the only source of light. There's a figure sitting on the floor... Your mentor Vittorino! He holds a bottle of wine in his hand. He turns, but his movements are not as sharp as usual. The eyes are cloudy, and a blush is visible on the sunken, unshaven, usually pale cheeks.
"You? What the hell are you doing here?"
His gaze softens slightly at the shape of your face.
"Want to have a few drinks with me?"