Måneskin oneshots

Work (D.D.)

Sum up : You are close to your final music exams. And you are stressed because if you fail them, your parents will send you away from your boyfriend, Damiano. On the other side, he's too focused in the writting of the next song to notice how close to the edge you are. Will his best friends manage to open his eyes ?

Words count : 4,9 k

from the request of AveryCoran

Work, work, work. The only thing your mind was currently on. You were in your final year of music conservatory and the final exams were coming. You were freaking stressed. You had to write music, rewrite a part in six hours. And play a piece in front of a jury, worse part, you only had two meeting with your teacher, and you were now three weeks away from the exam.
You didn't have the money to spend another year studying so you had to pass this exam successfully. And if you failed you parents would cut your money off and send you to your grandmother in Marinella, far away from music and Damiano. And they would force you to do a business school the next september, an absolute nightmare.

Of course Damiano, your boyfriend, was aware of the upcoming exams. But he was also very occupied by the writing of a song. So your relationship was a bit put in background. And it was even harder because his support was the only thing you needed right now.

You were slouching over your piano, trying to figure out a part of your song. You couldn't think clearly, the stress abusing your brain. You couldn't even focus on your emotions. You had nothing to get out, no story to tell. You felt empty yet overwhelmed. Damiano came into the room and you immediatly put on a fake smile. He passed behind you and mindlessly pressed a kiss to the back of your head, too focused on the notes he had in his hands.

You had seen that note book much more than its actual owner these past weeks. It never left Damiano's side. He was always scribbling on it, playing a randow beat with his pen. he kept humming the song they had been working on, tryingn to find the right words. In these moments you found him fascinating to watch. How his mind was able to put into words : pain, freedom, hapiness, victory... He inspired you. But with the stress, you couldn't even spend lose a second gazing at him. So much that some of his features seemed blurry in your mind.

"Morning. Slept well ?" he grogilly asked, sipping his coffee, hiding behind the small book. You quietly sighed, not that he would notice anyway. "No, not that well..." he only hummed in response, still too focused on his lyrics. "You wanna come with me to the studio ?" he said, taking his cup and putting it out to the dishes. You immediately shook your head. "No, I need to work..." "Well, can you at least drive me there ? You've woken up before me, so your mind is more in shape to drive..." you couldn't turn him down, especially when the excuse was his security. "I'll grab the keys. Meet me in the car in ten." he nodded and rushed towards the bathroom. The drive was quiet, his eyes looking outside to seek inspiration. When he has trouble finding some, he was lucky to have the group and their different points of views.

You parked in front of the studio. He was about to open the passager door when he turned back to you. "Wanna come and say hi ? They've been asking to see you." that made you smile a little. With all your work, you barely had time to message anyone anymore, cutting yourself from the world. "Maybe another day ? I have to go back home and work. Have a great day, amore..." your voice was quiet, not betraying the stress filling you. He nodded and kissed the tip of your nose before exiting the car. You watched him enter the studio. Once he was out of sight; your smile fell and you rested your head against the car wheel. You didn't have time to linger on your fatigue. You had to work. You pulled out of your parking place and drove back home.

For the next week it worked that way. You didn't have any inspiration, you called your teacher who never answered and made the taxi for Damiano in the morning. To finally end up working on a piano piece that you couldn't get through you skull. You looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, dark circles chaging your whole face. Stress was troubling you very much, not even letting you sleep for a full night. Dull nights without any dreams or nightmare, nights were you laid awake while Damiano was showing his back, snoring on his side of the bed. You reached in the cabinet to take your vitamins. They had been the only thing keeping you working. You did not need to loose your time in eating. You only left your piano to shower, eat a snack or drink and drive Damiano to the studio. Sleep wasn't even mentioned with how little you got.