My Italian Nightmare

Chapter 21: Debates

Monday, 18th of October

If we play in your city again, I want to spend the night with you.

It had been less than 48 hours since Edoardo presented his offer to me. And what an offer it was. It was too confusing, too surreal. It was so...unromantic, so weirdly pragmatic, that in a way it made sense but then again, it didn't. At least not to me. Edoardo could literally have anyone. What kind of rules did their management put upon them – were they really not allowed to hook up with someone new so Edoardo was basically stuck with me as his only option? I couldn't really believe that.

Ask Teo if you talk next time!, my brain shouted at me.

Yes, I will definitely do that – just how, without raising suspicion? Edoardo had made clear that Teo wouldn't appreciate his sentiment. But then again – how on earth did Edoardo imagine this to go? Did he want to smuggle me into his hotel room without the others noticing it?
I put my face into my hands and sighed. What did I get myself into? One part of me urged me to answer Edoardo that it was a stupid idea, that I wouldn't behave like a high-school slut fucking through the whole football team. Then I chastised myself at this thought, because it was totally okay to be a slut fucking the whole football team. So the other part of me was telling me to go for it.

Fuck it, it's fucking Edoardo Bianchi! Edoardo Bianchi offered to have sex with you, asked YOU to spend the night with him. Tell me one good reason to decline that offer.

Angelo. That was my main reason and I knew that was not a good one. Angelo, the man you slept with twice, the man who said he would never see you again. The man who threw you out of his hotel room, without a second thought on how that might affect your feelings.

Listen, I urged the voice inside my head. I felt stupid even debating this with myself. Angelo didn't owe me anything. It was just a - well a two-night stand and Edoardo was right – he didn't care about me. And he had no reason to.

Then why the hell do you care so much about him?

Yeah. Good fucking question. It would literally not affect Angelo in the slightest, if I slept with Edoardo. He'd probably think I was a slut. Which was, again, okay. And plus, maybe I finally needed to get some comparison in. Maybe I was just so fixated on Angelo because he was the only man I ever slept with. I brushed with both my hands through my hair and stared at the ceiling of my bedroom. I hadn't even realized that, but it was such an easy explanation! I had no comparison to him, so I deemed him to be the best. I grinned at my own stupidity. So I just had to get over the illusion that Angelo was the best, move on, have sex with other men and my mind would be finally freed of that stupid, handsome Italian man.

I sighed and stretched my body on the bed. This debacle had kept me up two nights in a row. It felt like such an easy choice at first glance – the hot drummer of your favourite band asks you to have sex with him, of course you say yes – but regarding the history I already had with them, I genuinely didn't know if getting even deeper into this whole thing would do me any benefit. Then again – the next concert in Berlin was in February – I had tickets for the concert in Vienna too but that was more than three months away as well. So why would Edoardo come up with the question now anyways? I had thought about that at least a hundred times. A lot could change between now and in three months. But also, not everyone acted rational all the time, obviously. Handsome rock stars had urges and impulses too, I told myself.

What I didn't get out of this whole inner debate though, was a certain decision, a strategy on how to act, on how to respond. I had told Edoardo that I would think about it. Secretly I hoped that he would change his mind in time and take the decision from me. Also I had not talked to anyone about this new development yet. Not even Freyja. I knew I ought to, but if Edoardo backed down in a couple days, texted me that it was a silly question, that he didn't mean it, or worse, that it had been a joke, a trick or a test, I'd feel so stupid having made a big thing out of it. So I would just give myself a couple more days to let Edoardo come to his right senses.