Il dono della vita | Måneskin

Chapter 2: Uncovered

Ethan's POV

Chiffon gowns, diamonds, pearls, satin. Flowers everywhere, their luscious smell invading my tobacco-filled lungs. There's not a single inch of the small chapel that hasn't been decorated in honor of the two people who are about to recite their vows. A formal yet honest moment marking the beginning of a new chapter for our lifelong friend Leo.

Out of everyone I know, he's the only person who could've gathered us back in Italy after so much time spent far away from our home country and its heavy memories.

There's not much to be said about the heartbreaking moment when we decided to part ways. Damiano came with the dark news that he can't go on like this, and I supported him. Maybe not out of full comprehension on the situation, but because we were bound by an old camaraderie in suffering. He supported me and I had to reciprocate his gesture, so, I agreed.

I stood up and supported his points with my own arguments. Overworked. Too much pressure. Stress. The fear of losing everything.

"It's better to end it in glory than a pile of shit," Victoria agreed with us.

Thomas just nodded. Left his head down, his chin touching the pale blue shirt he was wearing, and whispered a short "yes." And, that was it.

Years of hard work, sacrifices, sleepless nights, and compromises were burnt down with some simple nods. An era was over. We, as a whole, were over, but there wasn't anything to be done. The decision was unanimous. And, as I was leaving the small room of our old studio in Rome, I knew that it was much more than that. Universe doesn't offer too many gifts, only this one was indeed my escape, the small exit of my salvation. It's better to remain in history as an overtired asshole, than to have to face three sad pitiful looks, trying to fix the irreparable.

I move my eyes through the rows of people witnessing the ceremony of love. Upfront, there's Damiano, standing still and watching our friend uniting his destiny with the love of his life. On the bench in front of me, on my left sits Victoria. Beautiful as always, tearing up, discreetly wiping her sadness with the napkin she grabs from her red velvet clutch.

I touch her shoulder gently, trying to reassure her that's alright. And, in exchange, she turns to me and smiles.

"Weddings make me emotional, I guess," she whispers, then moves her gaze back to the couple.

Out of everyone, even if she didn't say a word, she was the most affected. Always a stoic, enduring everything without complaining. Another reason why I felt the need to distance myself even more from them. None of them have to carry more than their own difficulties.

"Hey, Eth," a familiar voice greets me.

Thomas. Late, as always.

I nod and he sits down next to me, without asking if it's free. Thomas, always assuming there's going to be space in my life for him. He isn't wrong, though, only, like everybody else, his fragile feelings have to be protected with a layer of bubble wrap that only time and distance can create.

I'm glad he doesn't say anything else. We both watch the ceremony unfolding before our eyes, the sacramental promise blabbered through honest tears and nervousness. I will never have that.

Thomas' scent is sweet. A dangerous floral perfume mixed with innocence and guilt. I wish I could turn to him and inhale it, but, lately, I learned that a higher intake of sugar can kill me. So, I refrain, in the same way as I did three years ago, on the night when I told him that I'm leaving Italy.

What would've been the point, after all? Me to remain and watch him slowly fading away in the foreign arms of his girlfriend. Knowing them, I assume they probably have three kids at home by now. I'm surprised that I haven't heard of their wedding, or, maybe the event when Lavinia took full possession of him happened in secret.

Loud music, cheering, and applause are marking the ending of another ceremony of what we call love. Only, I don't doubt the authenticity of Leo's feelings or his now wife who used to be a friend of ours for so long.

But, before I get to wrap my head around what's going on, I'm hit by a nauseating mix of smells. Flowers, perfumes, even nervous sweat, I can feel them all. My mouth is dry and I find no explanation for my sudden reaction, so, I raise my hand and look at my watch.

Now everything makes sense. I think as I'm getting up, completely ignoring Thomas, and looking for the nearest exit. Victoria doesn't seem to notice, as she's trying to escape, just like me, only she's followed by the scrutinizing eyes of Damiano.

I reach the bathroom in time. I let my body fall on the cold floor. The refreshing sensation is sending chills through my body, but, I still have to act fast.

A lonely noise makes its way to me, but I'm too preoccupied to open my briefcase and find the only thing that keeps me alive. I barley manage to unbutton my shirt enough to reveal my abdomen, then the cap protecting the needle falls too, followed by the familiar small pinch.

I empty the content of the syringe in my tensed muscle. This will be enough to keep me going till the end of the banquet.

I take a few deep breaths, then try to get up. I'm impressed by my success from the first attempt. Maybe it wasn't that bad after all.

But, when my eyes meet another pair of terrified hazel ones reflected in the mirror, I know that the situation isn't bad, it's actually worse.