GOLDWING (ing version)

chapter 19

1 month passed, and everything was kind of stopped between the band. Damiano just had just gotten off his honeymoon in Vegas, Ethan had come back with his tendonitis, and I was experiencing a relapse of my depression. Our tour had been forced to be postponed, so we had almost no shows scheduled during the spring. In summer, we would be full of festivals, including Rock in Rio.
Even though good things happened, my world felt like it was falling apart.
Our last album had been a failure on the lips of society. They said a lot on the Internet that this album was an authentic copy of Teatro D'ira. Months ago, we were leading the world stats and opening concerts for The Rolling Stones. At that point, it felt like people had erased our name from the music industry.

And amid so many things, my drinking problem escalated. I drank a lot; I drank too much. It had gotten to the point where I was dependent on a glass of tequila to get me out of bed and feel good to start a new day. The reason for that? Drinking made me forget about all my problems and worried, although it made me wake up with a heavy head and sometimes vomit. Not long ago, I had been diagnosed with alcoholism. Yes, alcoholism is a disease.

One day, our managers gathered us all together at the home studio. The proposal was clear: they wanted us to release something big, something that would bring us back to the world charts.

"Listen, if you think we're going to make a 2.0 version of Beggin', so are so freaking wrong," said Dam, very angry.

"The following is clear. If you want to receive another invitation from Royal Albert... you better work for it..."

"How do we work for it?"

"Maybe.... we have to be more days in the studio, trying to create something...."

"We can try...." said Ethan.

"But we must focus on this summer, guys. It's all going to be real massive," said Thomas.

"We still have 2 months until summer, and 4 for Rock in Rio...."

"We'll be able to create something new, I'm sure."

"Hope is the last to die, isn't it?" said Damiano, a little calmer.

"Or it may also be the first to die," I said, finishing.

We were in studio for days, and we didn't have any creativity or motivation to come up with a melody. Over the course of 2 weeks, we had done almost nothing productive. I mean, if having fights is considered doing something productive, I think we were productive. The heavy environment didn't help at all, as we used to write songs in a calm, healthy environment, and without pressure. I was totally frustrated, with no direction to go, and I was venting that pain and anger into a whiskey bottle at 4 am. And for the first time in a while, I picked up the blade again. I had scars on both arms, wrists, chest, back, thighs, and forearm, anyways... They say scars tell stories.

After immense pressure and incorrect behavior, I ended up doing something crazy on a Saturday night.

I was in the garden, with my feet in the cold water of the pool. I was May, so temperatures didn't rise above 22 degrees and didn't drop below 16 degrees. I still remember the outfit I wore that day: pajama pants and a Bowie t-shirt. The temperature started to drop, so I went into the living room and put on a sweater that must have belonged to one of the boys. A while later, I took 2 bottles of liquor that I had hidden in the hallway furniture and went to my room. It was about 3 days without touching alcohol, one of my biggest peaks at the time. Which didn't last long.

I spent almost half an hour staring at that empty white wall, wondering a thousand times if I should do that. It was neither the first nor the second time I had thought about taking my own life, and the other times I always found a way to escape those thoughts. But as I already mentioned, tonight was different.

I opened my little black notebook with a The Rolling Stones sticker and started writing letters. Those letters I never dared to write. Yes, farewell letters.

I wrote the first one for my mother (even if we weren't in the same world anymore, but soon we could be), telling her everything I had suffered from her loss and all the good things I had done in the world after she left. The second was for Thomas, apologizing for never being able to admit to him that I was down, and for not listening to him when he said my relationship with Damiano would never go anywhere.

The others went to Lorenzo, thanking him for everything he had done for me in the last few months; to Ethan, apologizing for all those times I got mad at him for hiding the alcohol we had in the house; to my sister Veronica, wishing her the biggest and best future after she graduates from university and asking her to be strong as she always was; to my father, saying that I wanted to repay him for everything he did for me one day, but I never could, and I felt guilty about it; and for Damiano.

"Dear Dam,

Despite everything, I want to thank you for everything. Thank you for staying up at night when I wanted to never wake up again from a deep sleep; for having motivated me when I was unmotivated; for the walks in the hospital corridors; for having come looking for me when I was running away; for calling me time and time again when you knew I wasn't well; for healing my scars, whether physical or psychological; for holding me in your arms while I cried; for the waffles in the morning; for the hugs; for the countless times you changed my oxygen bottle; for reminding me take my meds; for taking with all my outbursts; for the kisses on the forehead before gigs; for taking care of me when I didn't had the strength to do so; for lending me your clothes; for giving me back the self-esteem I had lost; for comforting me when a trigger came to my mind; for asking permission to grab my waist; for those occasions when we roamed Rome looking for second-hand clothing stores; for putting me to sleep when I had nightmares; for defending me from everything and everyone.

You know, falling in love with a person you have no intentions of falling in love with is one of the most genuine forms of love I've ever known, and also the most painful.

Please, continue with the band. Even Queen continued the concerts even though Freddie Mercury died, and who knows, you might find an Adam Lambert for Maneskin.

Stick with Chilli, who knows, she might get along with Bidet and Lego.

Now, I'll see you when life's roads decide it's time for our paths to cross again. You know life has to end, but love doesn't.

yours.

Vic."

-

heyyyy!

what do you expect for the next chapter? leave it in the comments ;)

I have to apologize for the inactivity, but within these weeks I left some chapters ready :)

tks for reading.

mel.