CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“ALL THE VILLAINS ARE BROKEN”
SCARLETT DEL GATO
I was lying on my bed the following afternoon after ignoring the brothers for an entire day—scrolling through the phone Vito gave me yesterday and finding absolutely nothing to do on the phone—when Giovanni saunters into my room unannounced and without knocking.
I should’ve locked my damn door.
I don’t look up from my phone. “What do you want, Giovanni?”
“I got you something.” He announces, letting a shopping bag swing in his hand. He walks over to the bed, setting the bag down onto the bed right by my legs. I didn’t miss the way he had a slight stumble in his steps.
I eye the bag carefully but I cave in when the curiosity gets the better of me. I don’t know what in the bag was, and I absolutely loved gifts, so this was something else entirely coming from Giovanni. I think he wanted to apologize for shooting someone yesterday and basically telling me that he didn’t feel anything like remorse whatsoever when he did.
I check inside the bag, seeing that it was the same dress I eyed at the store yesterday. The one that was still lying on the ground after Giovanni hauled me over his shoulder so we could leave the mall like two criminals.
“Where did you even get this?” I ask him, examining the material in my hands.
It was soft to the touch and it definitely seemed like it could fit me perfectly. Anything was better at the moment. The pair of jeans was literally starting to grow on me, so did the shirt.
“I sent someone to go back to the mall to get it for you.” He says, running his hand through his hair. “Not only did he get you the dress, but also some more clothes you can wear for school on Monday.” He says.
Sure enough, there were more clothes in the bag.
I don’t even remember telling Giovanni what my size was, but seeing that the clothes was here and could easily be returned again, I took it happily. Not without glaring at Giovanni, though.
I put the bag with clothes back down onto the bed in front of me and I look at Giovanni. “Did you really think that you can buy my forgiveness, because that shit isn’t going to work with me, Giovanni.”
He chuckles and the smell of alcohol washes over me.
It wasn’t too overpowering, but it sure as hell was enough to tell me that he didn’t just have one glass, or bottle, of whatever he decided to drink today.
“Have you—” I sniff the air around me. “Have you been drinking?”
He bursts out giggling and nods his head all sloppily. He was fighting so hard to stay awake. It won’t be long before he passes out on the bed right by my feet.
“I might’ve h-had a little to d-drink…” He says through hiccups.
“It’s barely one am Giovanni.”
He sits down on my bed and playfully nudges me, but his movement was so sloppy because he nearly fell onto his face doing so when he missed my arm.
“Stop sounding like my mom.” He says and my heart somersaulted inside my chest. I never once heard any of them mentioning their mother. “I am a g-grown man and I can h-have a drink once in a w-while.”
“I think you should just go to bed, Giovanni. Sleep it off and then we’ll talk when you’re sober.” I tell him before pushing him gently, but he doesn’t move from his seating position.
He smiles at me before he whispers something so soft under his breath; I couldn’t quite hear what he said, but he speaks again. “I just wanted to protect you.” He says before he falls face-first onto the mattress, right by my feet just like I had predicted.
He starts to snore immediately and I shake my head at him.
I get up from my bed and grab a small blanket from the bed before I leave my room. I close the door behind me and decide to watch some TV to get rid of some time.
When I came downstairs and walked into the living room, I spot Vito sitting on the couch too, swirling the drink in his hands. He sees me walking over to the couch with the blanket wrapped around my shoulders but he doesn’t say anything.
“Your brother is wasted.” I tell him, but he probably drank with his brother so it didn’t really help much to tell him about it.
“I guess I am t-too.” Vito says, still swirling the drink in his hands. “Giovanni could never stay sane after a couple of drinks so he gets all giggly and funny. I apologize for whatever he said while he was drunk.”
“It’s not my place to tell you guys what you can and cannot do in your house so you can drink yourselves into a coma if you want. I just want to stay here on the couch and stay warm.” I shrug before resting my head against the backrest of the couch.
There was comfortable silence lingering between the two of us until Vito turns to look at me. “You asked me before what hobby I have. Do you want to see what it is?” He asks and I nod before I can stop myself.
I was curious to know more about them, and seeing what Vito’s hobby was is definitely a step in the right direction. I can finally see what’s going on inside his mind, or parts of it, at least.
Vito nods before taking the last sip of whatever drink he was drinking before he sets the glass down on the coffee table in front of him.
He then gets up from the couch and beckons for me to follow him.
We make our way up the stairs, but I had to keep Vito steady before he lost his balance by keeping my hands on either side of his hips while hoisting him up the stairs from behind.
He merely falls for the fifth time before I stop him when we reach the top of the stairs. “This is a bad idea. You’re too drunk to even walk nevermind show me whatever hobby you have.”
He chortles and waves me off. “I am perfectly fine.” He says with a smile. “I play best when I’m like this anyways.”
“What exactly do you play?” I ask him, raising my eyebrow questioningly.
He ignores my question and makes his way up the rest of the stairs without losing his balance this time.
He leads me to the far end of the left side of the hallway until we reach a room.
His room.
He opens the door and switches on the light switch.
There, in the middle of the room, against the wall, was his bed covered with a black and grey comforter. Next to his bed stood a nightstand along with a small reading lamp to use if he wants to read during the night. But instead of him having a desk like my room did, there was a piano in its place, and huge too. It took most of the space in the entire left part of his room.
“I play the piano!” He announces happily before he struts towards it.
He plops down onto the little bench in front of the piano and opens the cover with steady hands.
Even when drunk, he can be careful.
I didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up when his fingers brushed over the black and white keys of the piano, soft sounds coming from the piano almost sounding like background music.
It was soft at first, but once he got used to the tones of the piano, he starts to play—really play the piano like no one I’ve ever seen before, not in real life, at least.
I was officially mesmerised, looking at how his fingers trailed over the keys so gently that he barely even grazed them with his fingertips, but the sounds coming from the piano was beyond beautiful and completely relaxing.
I wanted to listen to him play forever, if that was even remotely possible.
It made me walk over to the bench before sitting down beside him to watch him more carefully. “You really know how to play well.” I tell him while still focusing on how his fingers trailed over the keys.
He nods and stops playing the piano to look at me.
A sad smile forms onto his mouth when he looks at me. “My mom loved the piano.” He says and for the second time that day, I heard the two brothers mentioning their mother but I haven’t seen her once. “It was her favourite instrument to play.”
I nod.
“But my dad never let me learn to play the piano. He said that it wasn’t a manly thing to do and that I should leave it for my mom.”
“But yet you’re a pro at it.” I tell him. “You play like a professional.”
He smiles and nods at me before he shuts the cover of the piano. “My mom secretly taught me how to play when he used to go out on business.”
“Secretly?” I ask him. “Why would you play secretly?”
“My dad didn’t like the idea of his youngest son playing the piano, or any other instrument for that matter. He raised us with guns. Not music.” He chuckles then, trailing his finger over the keys without touching them. “That didn’t stop my mother from teaching me though.”
“You keep talking about her in the past tense…” I trail off. “Can I ask what happened to her?”
Vito smiles sadly at me. “She died a long time ago.” He says. “I think I was ten at the time and Giovanni was fifteen.” He says.
I wanted nothing more than to wipe the sadness out of Vito’s life.
I just wanted to see him smile because seeing him this hurt made my heart ache inside my chest. It was painful seeing him so hurt. Even though he was drunk, true emotions were evident on his face.
“I’m so sorry Vito.”
There weren’t enough words in the entire world to comfort him right now, but he needed to know that I was there for him. I know how it feels like to lose a parent. I lost both of mine. It completely sucks.
Just knowing that Giovanni and Vito lost their mom when they were young too made me feel like I could relate to them a little more somehow.
I place my hand on Vito’s shoulder and give it a light squeeze. “It’s okay to let all the emotions and hurt out, you know?”
He shrugs. “I was little and can’t remember much about her but her playing the piano.” He explains. “I only remember faint details about her like her light kind blue eyes and contagious smile. She was beautiful. She had the longest black hair. She just refused to cut it, even though my dad forced her to every time, she kept it long just to spite him.”
His dad sounds like a real asshole. I thought to myself.
“Giovanni was completely messed up after her death.” Vito says, “It ruined him. It turned him into this monster, but he’s just broken. All the villains are, right? They just want to be saved. They just want to be happy.”
Vito’s eyelids started to droop and that was a clear indication that he was on the verge of passing out.
I heard more than enough anyways. At least I caught a glimpse of Vito and Giovanni’s life and how it actually sucked to be them growing up. Their dad is a real asshole, by the looks of it. It makes me want to punch him in the jaw when I see him sometime.
I hoist Vito up by the arm and help him to his bed.
He falls down onto the bed like Giovanni did and starts to snore immediately.
When I look at Vito for the last time from the doorway, I know now why my brother told me that they were not bad people, because they aren’t bad people at all despite the things they did in the past.
They’re just hurt, and like Vito said, they just need to be saved.
The tough boy façade they keep up are just a sign that they don’t want to show any weakness to anyone, therefore they act tough and remorseless.
But I saw them for who they truly were today. The Castiglione brothers are just two boys who are hurting deep, deep inside.