Arabella (ALEX TURNER)

7 - shelter from reality

"You look terrible," Matt said, knocking on my forehead. 

I laughed, but my eyes strained. Everything hurt. "Looks are deceptive. So is the media. You all have an interview in three days, and you have to prepare by learning just a little bit of Italian to understand what's going on."

The band and I were in the basement of the Accademia di Belle Arti di Roma, a fine arts school in Rome. I found three students willing to help tutor each of the band members, but couldn't find a forth. Since I needed to apologize to Alex, I figured it was best I tutored him, anyways. 

Once I introduced all of them, I sent the band to their own classrooms to be mentored. 

Alex didn't say a word as we wandered to a small room, which could fit no more than ten people. It looked more like a board room. Underneath his eyes looked grey. 

There were large windows and the sun made it hard to see in here. I shielded my eyes with a hand. "Morning."

Alex nodded to my hand, giving a small smile to lighten the mood. "You should be wearing those sunglasses I gave you."

My hand slipped off my face. A pang hit my chest. I didn't want to Alex to know I let Leo treat me this way. "I'm sorry, I accidentally lost them."

Alex looked down, his smile faltering. "Oh."

"I'm also sorry for yesterday. My outburst was totally unprofessional--I just want to treat you like a normal client. Please forgive me."

"Mind if we just get on with the session?"

Ouch. I brought a textbook and pages out of my bag. "Alright."

I spent about an hour trying to teach him the basics, but neither of us were really in the mood. Alex kept spinning the pencil when he didn't understand a concept. He grew frustrated when I corrected his pronunciation. 

Then the door to the room swung open. 

Leo. 

"Oh, did I interrupt something?" He gripped the door handle until it looked like it would break. "Mi dispiace, mignotta."

Oh no.

Alex tapped his pencil on the table. "Me dis-pi-ah-chay--means 'I'm sorry,' innit? What does min-yah-ta mean?"

Leo laughed. "You're teaching him Italian? As a favor? He's supposed to pay la mignotta, not the other way around."

My lips pressed into a thin line. He wasn't getting a reaction from me. He wouldn't. I looked down at the table. 

"What's that word mean?"

"Just don't, Leo," I whispered. 

"Perché no?" Why not? Leo grinned wolfishly, stepping into the room and laying his hands on the table. He spoke to me in Italian. "After all, I'm just concerned. You should be paid in full for what you've done. There's no other reason that you'd have slept with him, right?"

I don't know when he figured out that Alex took me home last night, but he didn't know the full truth. I didn't sleep with him. He just took me home. But I didn't want to have this conversation with Leo now.

"Non ho fatto niente con lui," I said. I didn't do anything with him. 

Leo laughed. "Liar."

Alex stood up. "What are you two saying?"

"None of your business." Leo took my hand and pulled me up. "La mia mignotta and I will be having a discussion outside."

"Seriously, what does min-yah-ta mean?"

I wanted to cry. 

Leo gave a grim smile. "Dear, why don't you tell him?"

Of course I wasn't going to tell Alex. Why would I mortify myself on purpose? Leo knew that I wasn't going to say anything, and decided to lie like he usually did--but I couldn't contest him. 

"It's a term of endearment. Something I used to call her in bed," he lied. 

Alex looked away, somehow more hurt than before. 

I pushed Leo off me. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. All of what he was doing--just to spite me. To drive the nail into the coffin so that I'd never have a chance with Alex. I hated him, and I meant it. 

So I said it. But my voice was watery. "Davvero ti odio, Leo."

"I know you do."

I walked past him and tried to keep my composure like I always did, but I was getting worse at it. I was afraid he could see right through me. Leo guided me all the way until we were outside the building, but hidden away behind some trees so that nobody could see us. 

"I thought I told you to let your client know you weren't into him," Leo growled. His eyes lit up like amber. "But you had to go sleep with him, didn't you?"

"I didn't sleep with him, you jackass. He helped me home because I was drunk. Don't ever call me la mignotta again."

"Why not? Does it make you a little angry?"

"I'm not one!"

"You have the body and the stupid mind of one. And now that your client thinks it's my pet name for you, I think I'm going to use it a lot more often."

My face was blotchy. I could usually feel it just before I burst--but I didn't cry.

"But it doesn't matter if you did sleep with him or not. You still let him take you home. This should be a lesson for you not to give guys the ability to take advantage of you," Leo said. 

"What are you--"

Leo slapped me across my face, and then roughly grabbed my chin in his hand. His fingers dug into my cheeks. "I suggest you cut out your games with him soon, mignotta."

He stormed off. 

I slid down the side of the building, holding my face. The skin tingled. It would bruise. I wasn't going to cry. I wouldn't cry. Tears didn't fix anything. 

mignotta. slut.