Le Parole Lontane (Distant Words)

Chapter 2 - Interlude

Note: This chapter hasn't been edited.

"Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second's encounter with God and with eternity."
— Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

Cannes, Côte D'Azur, France, 24th of May 2022

I sit down on the comfortable couch. My back at the sea, and my face looking at the abstract paintings hanged on the wall in front of me. I'm in between two pieces of art, yet I'm not sure which is better, the man made splash of unintelligible thoughts of color, or the fresh air coming from the God made sea tinted with that late spring breeze that I loved so much. But, maybe I'm just in an interlude between the two, unable to decide what am I supposed to do now.

These periods of time were stressing me more than actual work. I hated interludes like this one, when, after a day full of interviews, and our location change from Nice to Cannes, I'm being stuck in a point where there's nothing else other than waiting for the next event. Which, if I paid attention well this morning, it might be just a formal dinner.

"Good afternoon," Ethan says, making me startle. This guy was always so silent, you could never figure out when he was entering a room. "I'm quite surprised to find you here."

"Why?" I laugh, ignoring the fact that I wanted to punch him in the face a few seconds ago. I told him so many times to change this way of coming out of random places like a ghost. But, I guess, he can't help it. "You didn't expect to find me in our suite?"

"No," he replies calmly, "I thought it's my time to sit here and enjoy a good read. I was quite sure you'll be out on the beach with Damiano and Thomas."

"Well, surprise," I laugh getting up from the couch, "I'm not."

"Oh no, stay."

Ethan is so peculiar. Ever since day one, when he was the only person to reply to our Facebook announcement and joined the band, he never seemed like he'll fit in. And, I think I'm right, because looking at him now, a year after international fame, while fans and press chant his name and worship his perfect hair, he's still the same weird boy that accompanied us in the beginning.

He takes a seat next to me, and I know that we're about to have a weird conversation. Ethan was always such a fascinating human being, but, sometimes, way too complex for my understanding.

"You seem agitated." He plainly states my mood that keeps sticking to me ever since last night's dinner.

I wish I can say I don't know why I'm like this, but, unfortunately, I do. Being out in public gives me and Damiano zero chances of interaction, so he took the time we spent at dinner to reply to Giorgia's messages. That irritated me up to a level that I thought it's not existing anymore from a very long time ago. But, here we were, last night I was angrily sipping on wine, snapping pics of Thomas and Ethan, while my golden boy was texting his other woman.

"You choose this, Vic," he adds like my face is an open book and I'm his new lecture. "You knew that no one will allow you. The fans, the media... If you'd come out now they'll crucify you both."

"I know." The acidity in my voice sounds like it can burn the entire place, and I'm glad I'm with Ethan. Out of them all, he is always the most tolerant of my anger outbursts. "And I'm so fucking pissed cause I thought I'm over it."