This Is Beppe
When people first met Beppe now, they usually assumed he’d always been confident.
Always loud.
Always the cheeky little menace who could somehow smell chocolate from three postcodes away.
But the people who’d known him from the start knew different.
Because when Beppe first joined Lifted just over a year ago—
He barely spoke.
Back then he was smaller too, not the gym-built machine he’d somehow become now. No bright blue hair. No dramatic entrances. No randomly appearing beside someone the second a snack packet opened.
He’d quietly join voice chats.
Listen more than speak.
Laugh softly in the background.
The kind of lad who looked like he wanted friends but wasn’t quite sure how to fit himself into the chaos yet.
Ryan noticed him first.
Ryan noticed everyone.
That was one of the reasons Lifted had become what it had.
He knew when someone needed pulling into conversation instead of leaving them sat quietly at the edge of it.
And then there was Danny.
Danthementalman.
Who approached friendship like a Labrador on energy drinks.
There was absolutely no chance of staying shy around Danny for long.
“You game?” Danny had asked him one night.
Beppe nodded awkwardly.
“Cool. You’re playing with us.”
And somehow—
That had been it.
Little by little, Beppe came out of his shell.
A joke here.
A sarcastic comment there.
Then suddenly—
Nobody could shut him up.
Now?
Now he was one of the most lovable idiots in the entire group.
The kind of person who’d absolutely take the piss out of you while also checking you got home safe.
A gym lad with light blue hair and the energy of an overexcited gremlin.
And if you had snacks?
God help you.
Because Beppe had senses beyond human understanding.
Nobody knew how he did it.
You could be halfway through quietly opening chocolate somewhere in the middle of a forest—
And suddenly—
Beppe appeared.
Like some sort of snack-seeking cryptid.
Andy learned that very quickly.
One minute Andy had been peacefully talking to Heidi about her rabbits and their TikTok following while holding his Cadbury bag.
The next—
A hand landed on his shoulder.
Andy nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Jesus Christ, Beppe!”
Beppe said nothing.
Just stared at the chocolate.
Andy sighed dramatically and handed the bag over.
“Love ya, Andy,” Beppe had replied instantly before vanishing back toward the group again like a satisfied little raccoon.
Honestly?
Sharing was caring.
Especially around Beppe.
Because if you fed him—
Congratulations.
You now had a best friend.
Like a Labrador.
Or a very affectionate goblin.
Neil once swore Beppe could smell Dairy Milk through packaging.
Beppe looked proud of that fact.
“I can.”
“No human should have that ability,” Mark muttered.
Beppe shrugged.
“Skill issue.”
Everyone laughed.
Because underneath the chaos, the jokes and the chocolate obsession—
Beppe was genuinely lovely.
The sort of person who remembered small things about people.
Who hyped everyone up.
Who’d quietly message if someone disappeared for a while.
Who’d somehow gone from shy lad at the edge of Lifted…
To someone right in the middle of it.
And maybe that was the whole point of Lifted really.
A bunch of people who arrived carrying their own struggles.
Their own loneliness.
Their own damage.
Then somehow found people who made life lighter.
For Beppe—
It had started with gaming chats.
Then friendship.
Then confidence.
Then family.
Even if that family relentlessly mocked him for appearing every single time someone opened food.
Ryan once looked at him suspiciously during a walk.
“You weren’t even near us two seconds ago.”
Beppe grinned.
“You opened chocolate.”
Like that explained everything.
Honestly?
In KTC—
It kind of did.