𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐚 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐚 - Måneskin

Chapter 9 ◌ Seguimi

We first sing old disco songs and danced the legs off our bodies. I feel like I am finally alive, the adrenaline pumping through my body and the alcohol is warming me up and giving me a blush. The energetic touch of other dancing bodies is radiating on me. We are bounce balls in a tiny box.

And then people start yelling "KARAOKE!"

Amazing, I think. I'm literally here with a singer and the rest of his band.

The pub has a little stage which they're cleaning up right now. So I guess this is really happening. Victoria is squealing from happiness and excitement and she drags her boys to the stage. Of course, she wants to be the first one to perform. I don't know how they'll do it because there are no instruments in here, so she'll just sing, for which I am the most enthusiastic. Damiano seems like he doesn't feel like singing but he knows Vic will just pull him on stage all by herself to make him do something.

The owner takes two microphones and prepares his computer and a sound system. "A request, anyone?" he asks and looks around.

"Sì, sì, io! I mean, us. I want Arabella from Arctic Monkeys!" Vic screeches with her arms up in the arm. "Alright, lady," the owner responds. Thomas picks Vic up at her waist and puts her on the small podium because she's too short to crawl on it by herself and she's too lazy to walk to the steps, while Thomas just steps on it. Then the first beats come out of the speakers, and Victoria looks like she's never been more ready for anything.

♪"Arabella's got some interstellar-gator skin boots
And a Helter Skelter 'round her little finger and I ride it endlessly
She's got a Barbarella silver swimsuit
And when she needs to shelter from reality
She takes a dip in my daydreams"♪

Now I get why Vic wanted to sing this song so badly, I bet Alex Turner secretly has written it about her. Well, in another dimension where she wasn't 13 years old or something. And Thomas is just standing there, playing the air guitar and hyping Vic up. And then they went even more for it in the chorus.

♪"As Arabella
As Arabella
Just might have tapped into your mind and soul
You can't be sure"♪

Now Thomas was also singing, or just morphing "Victoria" into the lyrics and somehow it worked. They were dancing together very energetically, maybe a little hysterically, but their audience and us, we were just going along with it. Without even thinking about how they were singing way out of tune. But in this little pub, it's just a thrill as if they're performing for real. Now the best, faster part comes up and everybody is singing along.

♪"That's magic in a cheetah print coat
Just a slip underneath it I hope
Asking if I can have one of those
Organic cigarettes that she smokes
Wraps her lips round the Mexican coke
Makes you wish that you were the bottle
Takes a sip of your soul and it sounds like"♪

Victoria and Thomas were just yelling in their microphones and jumping on the stage at this moment, falling on the floor when for a guitar imitation when the little riff came. You could say they do it all the time, how well they are responding to each other although this wasn't even real. They stand up, make a big bow and walk off stage while holding hands, Thomas making sure she doesn't trip or something. I love this rowdy, happy atmosphere despite I also enjoy the calm. Some other people sing what they want and we're just going with it. But Damiano is nowhere to be found, I notice.

"Hey, Marlena!" Victoria yells in my ear, trying to over sound the beats of the music. "Thomas is too wasted, I'm bringing him home." "And I have-, uhm," Ethan says in my other ear, "drum practice tomorrow morning, sorry." "Yes, we're so so so sorry but we'll have to leave you here with Dam," Vic dramatically says, and then she looks back and forth between us and giggles. Ethan chuckles too like they're two little girls sharing a secret. Then Thomas mixes himself in our conversation: "Let's not pretend that we didn't see how he glanced at you, and to be honest, we don't think you mind staying with him," he winks and now the three of them look me in the eye, waiting for me to say something.

"It's fine, guys, thank you," I say with some hesitation because where is Damiano anyway. But then I see Victoria sighing from relief and I know I'll be alright. Victoria kisses me goodbye on both cheeks and the boys follow her lead, they smile supportively and they're wishing me good luck. "Have fun, tesoro," she responds. Then they go search for Damiano but without success, so they just wave at me and leave the place.

"Vieni qui, Marlena!" a voice suddenly says in my ear while he takes my hands and pulls me out of the mass. It's Damiano's firm but soft hand that's holding mine. "We're leaving too if you don't mind, I actually don't really like parties even though I liked to be here with you," he says with a gentle voice and then he excuses himself for hiding like a little child from us. His lips tickle my earlobe like a butterfly that just landed there, this featherlight touch gives me shivers all over my spine.

"Alright then," I answer, unknowingly what will happen now. "Then we're going for a little walk. No worries, my apartment is nearby," he says.

Wow. I hadn't expected that he'd take me to his very own place, for sure not in the moment I gave in to his proposal to go out sometime. But now we've had a good time, at least until he was gone for a moment, I secretly was hoping for it.

So we leave and go walk under the street lanterns. We're both glowing in the lights with twinkly glitters in our eyes. Rome is asleep, a big contrast with the intense, buzzing mass we've just left. We walk in silence but I'm glad when he takes my hand and tangles his fingers in mine. "You're so cold, here, take this," he says and drapes his black leather jacket around my shoulders. I was shivering indeed but not from the cold. A warm, musky scent enters my nose, the leather smells exactly like him, it compliments his body odor. Not to be strange but I remember his smell from the time he ran into me while he was jogging and when I was dancing with full surrender in his strong arms.

Damiano looks happy, maybe a little tipsy from the cocktails we got. But most of all, he doesn't seem nervous, I hope he doesn't see how enerved I got the minute the others left.

After a few streets, we stop at a tall building and go inside. We step into the elevator and I can sense our tension. Elevators are the place for the perfect move, so I keep staring forward making sure that doesn't happen. Not yet at least. Now we've arrived on the floor of his apartment and he stops at a cherry red door. He lights his cigarette, goes in, and signals that I can come inside too. "Follow me, follow me now," he chants and I giggle.

It's a small space but I'd rather call it 'cozy'. The furniture in there is all white, IKEA type. The curtains are closed, I ask myself what the view outside would be.

I wonder how he can afford all of this. Does he have a side job? Because I suppose he isn't becoming that rich with his street performances. Maybe he's some kind of stripper, pole dancing to get money in his pockets and behind his curtains, there's a pole to practice. I laugh under my breath.

Or maybe his parents are just paying rent. Maybe I'll just ask...

"Woah," I say with a wide grin, "how the hell did you afford all this? I mean, senza offensa, I know we're about the same age and I am still completely financially dependent on my parents. I have nothing, I'd need to starve myself and live under a bridge in duds."

"Sounds comfy," he answers and the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. No answer, I think.

"Un mago (a magician) doesn't give away his secrets. I don't need no money in my jeans to be an artist," he says and winks. He definitely is playing games, trying to keep me wondering.

Or maybe he is a stripper.

I kinda want him to open the windows because it already is getting warm in here, but maybe it isn't smart to say it in those words. Why am I overthinking this?

"Do you want something to drink?" he asks while opening a cupboard. "Uhmmm," I open my mouth but nothing really comes out.

"I'll pour you some wine," he says, "that will put you at ease. Don't think I don't see how you uneasy you've started acting once you put a foot in my apartment," he chuckles.

Fair point. I know he knows he's right. We sit down on his bed because there are no seats to be seen in this radius. We're just looking at each other with a goofy look on our faces. Maybe we're both imagining whether something will happen or not, at least I am. I feel my blood running like a rollercoaster with my veins carrying the little wagons, making my cheeks red and hands sweat. My head is raving and my heart is doing somersaults in my chest. My body is a fairground and I don't know if I'll let him pay.