Peccatori | Damiano David [ENG]

XII

If anyone ever told me that I would voluntarily punch myself in the face and still enjoy it, I would tell them to get treatment. Auto-aggression sounds like a manifestation of mental illness, but for me it is now a vocal exercise.

I sit with Damiano in my, or should I say our, bedroom and give my cheeks a rub. The brunet is intensely massaging my cheeks. Quite a painful experience.

- Is this really necessary? - I asked in a whisper as Damiano continued to maltreat me.

- Yes, necessary. There are a lot of muscles around your mouth and you need to warm them all up to sing beautifully. - He said smiling at me. You don't have to be able to read my mind to see that he really liked what he was doing to me.

The boy grabbed both my cheeks with one hand, which made my lips make a pout. I looked like some kind of retarded fish with cerebral palsy. Not insulting sea creatures with disabilities, of course.

- Somehow I've never seen you do that. You've never massacred your cheeks like that. - I said when he finally let me go.

He measured me with his eyes.

- Because mine aren't as puffy as yours. - he said while jabbing me in the nose with his finger. - And it so happens that I am already a great singer. - he said, modestly as usual.

- Imbecille. - I hit him with a pillow that was lying next to me. I fell back on the comfortable mattress of my bed and gave the ceiling a long look. - You have puffy cheeks yourself. - I said in a tone worthy of a four-year-old offended at the whole world.

Of course this is a lie. You can accuse him of many things, but his cheekbones are out of this world. His whole face is perfect. He looks like he's right out of Michelangelo's chisel. When my self-esteem was not as high as it is now, I was tempted to apologize to him for breathing his air. I was young, stupid. I had no self-esteem yet.

- Stellina mia... - said the boy tenderly. He pulled me by the arms so that I very quickly returned to my previous position. I was again sitting cross-legged in front of him. - Don't be offended by me anymore, just keep practicing. - he said eagerly.

I sighed loudly and long.

- This exercise is stupid. Can we practice now? - I asked playing with the fingers of his slim hand. He has such nice hands.

- Sure. But you have to get really into it and give it your all. - He said reaching for some paper. - We're going to have a sing-along and then we're going to get down to specifics.

I definitely liked that better. I didn't have to slap myself in the face or anything like that. There was a lot of laughter, especially when I would go into high notes my voice would turn into a rooster crowing. After a few adjustments it was fine. We managed to successively rework the whole song. The outro was left, which in my opinion is a masterpiece.

Tornerai da me con le mani giunte

Tornerai da me

This moment came out for our duet almost crystal clear. You can tell I'm very sensitive to music, so my immediate body reaction was goosebumps all over my arms.

- If this keeps up, you're going to put me out of business. - He said with a laugh while holding my hands.

- Your end on the stage is near. - I said theatrically tossing my hair like the ladies in the shampoo commercials. - Tempo di cambiare, amore.

I got up from the bed in order to move my stiff bones a little. I took a few steps and stretched in all directions like a cat. Damiano is watching this with a smile.