The Goblet of Love | Eurovision 2021 | Damiano David

Chapter 9 - Old Memories

I ran out of Kleenex tissues before I could gather my thoughts and my words. Forming a solid sentence was still hard, but Victoria didn't seem to rush anywhere. I sobbed a couple more times and sighed.

- Do you have any kind of  tranquilizers here? - she asked, walking in circles and looking into each box and table shelf.

- They should be in a big blue suitcase provided by Eurovision organizers, - I said, still half-crying.

- Ok, here you go, let me get you some warm water. Alright, now, please, drink. It is making my heart ache to see you in this condition.

I swallowed two small pillows and drank the whole glass of water. Gosh, those tears must have drained all the existing fluids from my poor body.

- Would you like to share the reason of your breakdown with me? Maybe I can help with coping?

- Vic, promise that you won't tell anyone about what I am about to tell you. And promise not to be angry at me.

- You are freaking me out, what's going on? Tell me, I promise not to judge.

- Damiano and I slept together.

- I know. I kinda walked into his room to check on him as you forgot to send me a message. I saw you too sleeping in his bed and decided not to wake you up. You seemed so peaceful and so precious with his hand under your head, cuddling each other in the cutest way possible.
I still don't get why are you crying?

- I saw him with another girl. Short dark hair, big cheeks, big breasts, hanging on his arm like she owns him, - I sobbed again.

- Wait, Giorgia is here?

- Who is she? Damiano has never ever mentioned her.

- Fun fact: she is his girlfriend. Or not. We can't ever tell in which fase of the relationships they are standing. I would describe it as an open kind of relationship. I haven't seen her in a while as Damiano prefers to keep those things out of our business. Why don't you talk to him and ask everything you want to know?

- He isn't a talker in these kind of questions. We hadn't defined our relationship either.

- Why don't you write him a message, so I can pass it carefully?

- Ok, I guess I can do it. - I pulled out a paper sheet from my favorite notebook and wrote: "We must talk about us. Meet me in 30 minutes under the stairs on the 2nd floor. O."

- Ok, I'm gonna pass the message and you should think about all the questions you could ask him. Whatever comes, don't take it personally - he can act stupidly and irrationally sometimes.

- Thanks, Vic. For being here for me.

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This half hour interval was drawling. I went over and over through all the possible outcomes of this talk.
I have never been so caught up in the feelings for a man I met only a couple of days ago.

When it was time, I sat on the stairs, waiting for him to arrive. Didn't Victoria manage to pass the note? Didn't he want to come?

In a moment, the door opened and I saw Giorgia coming right at me. She wore a bitch mask on and looked like she was ready to put me on the ground and beat me to death.

- And you must be O., - she said with almost no accent.
- Damiano is not coming. We've been together for 4 years, do you think a small intrigue can keep us apart? We are going to get married and you are going to loose yourself and go back to your country, so we won't ever see you again. Got it?

I didn't want to fight with her. If he has decided that I was indeed a one-night stand, not worth of even the smallest explanation, then that's it. Fuck him and fuck her. I came here to win the song contest and not to destroy myself over some guy who couldn't even find a courage to come talk to me.

I existed without looking back. I saw a group of people coming my way: a couple of journalists and the whole  Måneskin band. I raised my head up and tried not to look at Damiano. When I passed the crowd, he grabbed my left hand and said:

- We need to talk.

- I don't want to talk with you. You girlfriend has already said everything. There is nothing left to add. Enjoy your life!

I walked so fast that some people would say I was practically running. When I reached the bathroom, the tears returned. This time, there was no available solution to cheer me up. I felt heartbroken and lonely. Again.