Ghost-Writer// Victoria De Angelis // English

15| concert

Some guy knocked at the open door, making me turn around. He was holding a bass in a case. "Oh you can put that just there, thank you." Victoria smiled at him. He did so and left, closing the door.

"When's the concert?" I asked Victoria, putting my hands in my hoodie pockets. "Like...8-ish. I don't know." She shrugged with an unsure smirk. "What do we do until then?" I checked the time on my phone. "We work." Victoria put plainly and grabbed her bass from the case.

Bass from the case, hah, that rhymes. Speaking of rhyming, I didn't feel like writing songs right now.

"Did you bring your little notebook? The cute blue one?" Victoria asked. I smiled at her observation of it. I unzipped my suitcase and pulled it out. "Right here." I tapped the cover.

"Ok, let's write together then. Victorianna." She gave us a collective name. It was like some 13-year-old-ship-name. But for some reason I didn't feel completely repulsed by it.

I sat on the bed and scrambled for a pen. "Take this." Victoria rolled me a pen, which on closer inspection had 'Måneskin' engraved into it. "Free merchandise." I wiggled my eyebrows.

"Martza had matching ones made for all of us when we won Sanremo." Victoria laughed. I flicked through pages while Victoria set up her bass.

"How many fucking songs do you have?" She exclaimed as I flicked through. "They're not all songs, some pages are just words." I explained vaguely. "Huh?" She questioned, and rightfully so.

"I write down a bunch of words that I associate with the topic to help me think. There, a magician reveals one of her secrets." I moved my hands mysteriously. "And sometimes Damiano takes inspiration and writes in Italian so I have to scrap the song." I added, not meaning for it to sound annoyed.

"Just pick a random one." Victoria suggested. I owned a page with messy handwriting all over.

It had only one verse :
Do I have to go?
Can't I just lie here
Talk about nothing
Music to my ears.

I don't want to leave
Not 'till you're gone
Shout lyrics we don't know
Sing cheesy love songs

"Victoria it's some 16-year-old-in-love crap I promise." I showed her, expecting her to agree. Of course, Victoria's kind heart decides I was being too hard on myself.

She begun to play a pattern. It fitted the vibe perfectly. "I guess we have to finish it then, don't we?" I looked at her clearly unchanging expression. Little did she know this song was about her.
Oh, that's an idea for the chorus.

These words aren't for nothing,
You know who they're about,
I won't tell you yet,
I'll let you figure out.

I took a picture and sent it to Damiano with a' 👀 ' emoji.

"Stop texting your boyfriend and show me!" Victoria groaned, grabbing the notebook.. "I was texting Damiano." I rolled my eyes. "I know." She smirked, scanning the page. Huh? Damiano seemed like my boyfriend? No. Victoria was up to her silly jokes again. Right?

She set it down and played another pattern. "It's literally perfect what?!" I exclaimed. "Grazzi, Grazzi." Victoria half-bowed because she was sitting.

I loved her childishness. Wait, lightbulb moment:

I know I sound childish,
Don't believe in soulmates
And even if you hate me
The world still rotates