#Cristina to Italy and who knows if she's coming back
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light-miracles · 1 year ago
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For the first time in 3 years of this crisis, today, after 11 hours of being one of the 150.000 volunteers that helped to fight against the attempts of fraud in our elections, I'm going to bed peacefully and with hope. Alberto, Cristina and Massa stole so much from us that it's very hard to explain if you haven't seen it with your own eyes. This is beyond the left wing/right wing eternal fight. Record of poverty, 130k deads of covid because they refused to buy the vaccines on time, abysmal corruption, 142% of inflation in a single year, your salary and savings worthing less with every week, record of criminality. Tonight Argentina recovered some of the hope we lost along the way.
Good night.
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malicedragoness · 10 months ago
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Cori Graye - MK OC
Everyone is posting their OCs, so I wanted to post something. (Not me being nervous!)
I��ve been doing an RP with the amazingly talented @brittlecakes92 and her awesome OC!
Bio, mood board, and face claim under the cut.
The art is by @rhaeneryaarts !
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Name: Corina ‘Cori’ Graye
Gender/Pronouns: She/Her
Occupation: Thief
Place of Birth: Vecilio (Outworld country that resembles Italy)
Resides: Outworld
Height: 5’3”
Skin Tone: tan
Hair: black
Eyes: green
Personality: (reworking)
Motivations: Coin, dangerous tasks, the risk and reward of doing jobs. Cori never lived in the lap of luxury growing up, and she wants to experience everything life has to offer. She wants to travel to other countries within Outworld, visit other realms, see the sights, try different foods, and steal interesting things.
Hobbies: Cooking, trying new foods, breaking and entering
Talents: Sneaking, archery, lock picking, pick pocketing, grifting, cooking,
Abilities: Cori is able to heal other people by placing her hands on them and transferring the pain onto herself. She takes on the wounds and feels the pain they would’ve gone through. But she heals faster than they would have. There has only been three instances where the wound was so fatal that she has died from healing the person and has come back to life. She doesn’t know why she has this power, other than her mother’s side of the family has magic running through their bloodline.
Weapons: Her bow Heartbreaker. A few concealed daggers. A knife she keeps sheathed in her braided hair with a flower ornament to conceal it.
Family: Atten Graye (brother),
Einar Graye (father),
Cordelia Graye nee Visconti (mother - deceased),
+6 older brothers
Best Friends: Stella and Taven
Relationship Status: taken
Significant Other: Havik
Other Relationships: -
Backstory: Growing up, her family was poor despite her father, Einar, working as the town blacksmith. With seven older brothers and her mother died when she a baby, it was hard on their father to take care of eight children and work at the same time. She has no memory of her mother. And when Cordelia passed away, the matriarch of the Visconti family disowned them since Einar refused to give them any of his eight children that showed signs of magic talent.
The only one who didn’t disown them was Cordelia’s younger sister, Ivonna. Who lives on the outskirts of the country Vecilio. The Grayes would often visit her vineyard and inn when they could get the chance.
Growing up poor in the city walls, Cori and Atten learned to pick pockets and locks to try to bring food home. Her father would scold them for doing something so dangerous.
When Cori reached age 20, her father set her up in an arranged marriage. She was furious with him. After she came to terms with it, she knew her father only wanted what was best for her. To have a home, safety and security. To hopefully get her out of a thief’s life.
The marriage lasted over a year before being annulled. The reason being that Cori isn’t able to have children. So her husband, furious and upset, knocked up the local barmaid. She left as soon as the marriage was annulled and never looked back.
Ever since then, her and Atten take odd jobs for thrills and coin. They meet Havik when him and Darrius hire them to rescue a seer and find the broken ruby piece they hand to Quan Chi.
- - - - -
Cori Face Claim: Cristina Scabbia w/ green eyes
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Moodboard:
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escapethewonderland · 1 year ago
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If tomorrow it's my turn, I wanna be the last one.
Tonight I sat down to journal but the rage I'm feeling doesn't allow me to leave those words on a piece of paper that I'll be the only one to read. I need to share this with you, in hopes of a better future.
This post is different from my usuals, it's nothing I've done before so I'm going to put trigger warnings before you continue reading.
TW: toxic relationship, d3ath, kidnapping, femicide
If you're uncomfortable reading about these topics, I kindly ask you to stop here.
It won't be coherent, it's been a hurtful week.
This isn't fiction. This is real life.
This is a story that has been all over medias in Italy for the last week.
The narrative that media (newspapers, tv news, social medias) is perpetrating is a pretty fabricated fantasy, a mirror of a patriarchal society that views women as objects, pretty, little things to be possessed, devalued of any quality or importance. We're dolls to be toyed with instead of human beings. It's a disgusting reality that we wake up everyday to and we're tired. We're fuming with a deep rooted rage that will shake this world to the ground.
Because this isn't a story of 2 young, ex lovers running away together like they want us to believe.
It's a story about Giulia, a 22 years old young woman with a brilliant future ahead waiting for her, that was brutally attacked by her ex boyfriend, kidnapped and killed.
"The good guy who would ever hurt a fly". Oh yes, he wouldn't a fly, but he did hurt a woman. A good guy doesn't profess her love for you then beat you to a pulp to drag you into his car when you try to escape. A good guy doesn't control you, a good guy isn't possessive of you to the point it becomes stalking.
None of it is love.
None of it is a good guy.
For a week we've been keeping that fickle of hope alive, that little flame resisting even after all the horrors we know women suffer at the ends of men believing they're entitled to them, like a property they paid for.
However, us women as a collective knew the truth in our hearts already, no matter how hard we tried to pray for a better outcome. She wasn't coming back. Because we've seen thousands of Giulias before her. She's the 105th victim of femicide in Italy from the beginning this year.
105.
Giulia was every single one of us girls and women. She was young, she was brilliant-she was supposed to graduate uni that same day she disappeared. She had a life ahead, full of dreams to be turned reality. She was loved deeply.
Using the past tense is a failure of our society because Giulia was supposed to be with us on this Earth to this day and many more going forward.
Her spirit will live on forever, never forgotten.
We'll burn everything for her, in her name and in the names of the other women whose lives were taken away too soon.
We'll burn everything until our world won't start to change.
I'll leave a poem down below from activist Cristina Torres Caceres that is being used a lot right now to remember Giulia and to light the fire in our raging, bleeding hearts.
Read about her, spread her name and keep her memory alive.
Giulia is us and we're Giulia.
Rest in power.
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If tomorrow it's my turn, mom, if tomorrow I don't come back, destroy everything. If tomorrow it's my turn, I want to be the last one.
english source italian source
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“It was Rammstein meets Faith No More”: how Lacuna Coil made their breakthrough album Comalies
Lacuna Coil‘s 2002 album Comalies was became their calling card. Twenty years later, they’ve revisited their breakthrough album
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A spotlight follows Cristina Scabbia as she makes her way through the crowd. The Lacuna Coil vocalist has just asked fans if they’ll sit down so she can come and sing a song in their midst, and it takes mere seconds for the entire room to oblige.
“Sorry if I kick you. Ciao! Ciao!” she laughs warmly, offering fist bumps to those perched dutifully on the floor, some of whom have travelled across Europe, and from as far as Brazil and Chile, to be here. Moments later, surrounded by camera phones, she sings a beautiful, doomy rendition of The Ghost Woman And The Hunter, a deep cut from third record Comalies, shoulder-to-shoulder with her tearful faithful.
We’re here at Fabrique, a 3,000-capacity venue on the outskirts of Lacuna’s hometown, Milan, to celebrate the 20-year anniversary of that very album. Widely considered to be the band’s masterpiece, it introduced thousands of people to their ethereal gothic sound and the serene/harsh dual vocal attack of Cristina and bandmate Andrea Ferro, setting them on an upward trajectory that, in 2022, shows no sign of slowing down. The retrospective includes Comalies XX, a rewrite that puts a modern spin on the original album, and the band are playing it in full tonight as part of a 26-song set.
“Comalies was the album that changed our career, so we couldn’t put out a remaster or repackaging and let the 20th anniversary just go by without giving the importance that it deserves,” says Cristina, speaking to Hammer over a Zoom call from her “chaotic” nerd den in Milan, four days before the show. Surrounded by toys, posters and games, she admits the combination of playing a hometown show, as well as commemorating Comalies and playing Comalies XX live for the first time, has turned her into a jumble of nerves and excitement. “We were grabbing a coffee and said, ‘Why don’t we rewrite Comalies? With the technologies that we have now, how would it sound?’”
The answer is darker and much heavier. Maintaining the atmospheric qualities of the original while adding a depth and power to their most beloved tracks, there’s a new density at play that’s in no small part due to Andrea’s newly recorded guttural vocals. It’s an approach, he tells us as we sit in a tiny office backstage a few hours before the show, intended to reflect the volatile nature of current society.
“It’s more… desperate,” he says, choosing his words carefully while wincing due to a pulled muscle in his back, which sees him relying on heat patches to get him through the gig. He cites the pandemic, Putin’s invasion of Ukraine and pervasive anxiety surrounding the spiralling cost of living as factors that took the music in a grittier direction. Meanwhile, in the last few weeks, politician Giorgia Meloni, whose far right ideologies have alarmed the band, has got closer to becoming Italy’s next Prime Minister. “We wanted extreme music for extreme times.”
The reworked album represents a leap of faith for the band, given fans consider the original to be holy ground. “I’m sure that there will be some that will argue that it should have been ‘left alone’,” says Matt Wrycraft, founder of long-time Lacuna fan forum and website Emptyspiral, who is here seeing the band live for the 119th time. “But the music is still uniquely Lacuna Coil. Their journey continues and I’m always excited to see what happens next.”
For many fans, Comalies was the moment Lacuna transformed into the band they now know and love, developing a unique sound that was far more than the sum of their Paradise Lost and Type O Negative influences.
“The songs were more mature,” remembers Cristina, who says everything aligned musically and visually during the creative process. “We took a lot of time to put together all the clothes, to have a specific image. We started to present as a band, as an army, for the first time.”
The album was written in Milan but recorded, completely analogue, at Woodhouse Studios in Germany. For several months, the band shared a tiny apartment above the offices of their label, Century Media, sleeping in one room in bunk beds. While their bandmates (guitarists Marco Biazzi and Cristiano Migliore, bassist Marco Coti Zelati and drummer Cristiano Mozzati) recorded the music at the studio, Andrea and Cristina worked on lyrics in the apartment, cooking gnocchi from scratch to save money, using tomatoes and oil they’d brought over from Italy.
Comalies was released on October 29, 2002. Cristina doesn’t remember much about her time in the studio, but she can clearly recall the album’s impact. Two songs had immediately stood out from the recording sessions, and would go on to break Lacuna Coil on the world stage. The first was Heaven’s A Lie, the hooky, ethereal single that grabbed the ears of MTV. The second was the sumptuous Swamped, which Andrea tells us initially went by the working title ‘Ramm No More’. “Not many people know that,” he says. “For us it was a mixture of Rammstein and Faith No More.”
Two years after Comalies was released, Lacuna Coil were booked to play Ozzfest 2004 in the US. In an instant, the bands they had listened to for years were suddenly their peers. “We were immediately projected into this new world,” Cristina says, remembering the press conference in Los Angeles she attended that year to promote the tour. “I was sitting near to Judas Priest, Lamb Of God, Sharon and Ozzy. Joey from Slipknot was there. I took a picture with Zakk Wylde, holding me in his arms.” She laughs. “Three surreal days.”
Ozzfest won them legions of new fans. Every date of the run, they continually sold more CDs than any other band, save for headliners Slipknot. Of course, it didn’t hurt that a year earlier Evanescence had crashed the UK and US mainstream with their world-guzzling hit Bring Me To Life, thrusting goth-tinged hard rock into the consciousness of popular culture and redefining the meaning of the female artist inside and outside alternative music. Both Cristina and Andrea agree that the omnipresence of Bring Me To Life represented a huge opportunity for Lacuna Coil to tap into a wider audience.
“It was about time for women to flourish more,” says Cristina. “I was honestly very happy about their success. Even wanting it as much as I could, from Italy we would have never have been able to change the musical world in terms of [bringing in] more females. I was like, ‘Maybe something is really changing. Maybe people are realising that metal is not just, you know, dudes with a denim vest.’”
Despite having little in common musically, other than the fact there was a woman on vocals, Lacuna Coil found themselves incessantly lumped together with other gothic and symphonic-leaning bands such as Within Temptation and Nightwish, by a metal media who seemed determined to stir up drama.
“I read some interviews, and I really hope that they are fake, and one day I’ll meet in person with Amy, and I am sure that she will tell me that they were fakes, in which some [Evanescence] members were actually saying bad things about us,” Cristina continues. “I was just like, ‘We never met. We are not jealous about your success. What’s the point?’ You never know about rumours because they’re 99.9% bullshit.”
Ask Cristina and Andrea what the legacy of Comalies is and they’ll say the same thing: community. And you only need to look at the black-clad queue that has been snaking down the road outside Fabrique since 8am this morning to see their point. “I’ve never known anything else like it,” says long-time fan Dave, who flew from the UK to see the show and has formed many friendships through the band. “The best way to describe it is I think it feels like a warm blanket.”
Yesterday, some of those same fans were treated to a meet-and-greet at MoonHouse Music in Milan – the place where the band wrote Comalies 20 years ago – and a memorabilia showcase, including the priest-like garment worn by Andrea in the Heaven’s A Lie video, a red leather dress that fans will recognise from a million Cristina photoshoots, and even a copy of the first contract proposal the band ever received from Century Media.
“We have a very strong base of fans that have become a family to us,” says Cristina. “We’re really attached to them. We recognise most of them, they write to us and we answer. I can’t see many new bands that have the same luxury.”
The sense of community set in motion by Comalies is palpable later as Lacuna Coil bring their ‘Comalive’ show to an emotional close. Dressed in floor-length black robes and bathed in red light, the band finish on a triumphant Nothing Stands In Our Way, an anthem dedicated to Coilers everywhere. As they lead the room of raised fists through a deafening chant of ‘WE FEAR NOTHING!’, you know in your bones there’s not one soul in the room who doesn’t believe every word. It’s a reminder of just how far the band have come, and a heartfelt invitation to join them for the next 20 years.
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mayasdeluca · 3 years ago
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I think it’s funny that Andy was supposed to be the Meredith of Station 19, if you look at the formula in Which the show started it was very similar to Grey’s and probably the writers wanted to build around that.
Problems is, Andy as a character has always been annoying, a bit full of herself (Sullivan and her are really meant for other lol) the one who deserve everything, the more they pushed her character away from Vic and Maya (and toward Sullivan) the more she became unlikable.
One of the best thing of Meredith was her friendship with Cristina and the build up of other relationships with ppl around her (Derek, George,Alex and so on during the 500 years of the show) Alaskan Station 19 it didn’t really went like that, maybe at the beginning, but the character and friendships were destroyed and not in an organic way.
After a while I think the writers understood that Andy wasn’t really the most liked therefore they changed the formula of the show and other favorite characters got a little bit more of a center role instead of being Andy’s ppl.
Maya is an example, she’s a more rounded character even if very competitive she has many layers that she shows to different ppl around her, we may not like her behavior at time of some of her choices, but we as an audience understand why, we can relate to her, not so much to Andy.
Ppl who follow this show usually love more the storyline and dynamic of Travis/Vic, Maya/Carina, Travis/Emmett, Dean, Jack and Ben were put more in the sideline from time to time, they gave them enough screen time to keep the family feeling of the show, but they lost it imo when Sullivan arrived.
I understand wanting to have a character that disrupts the “station family” but the problem by doing so, the writers destroyed some of the best relationships and dynamics of the show, season 5 is a perfect example.
No more Maya/Vic/Andy they almost never interact with each other and we barely see them on screen together.
The show it’s almost all men and the storyline of the women are all related to some male Character, the story isn’t as organic as it was…
Andy doesn’t feel like the main character anymore, when episodes are about her they seemed forced and she come off as annoying almost all the time, this is not a character that can be the center of the show, the problem is there’s not really a main character any longer yes ppl are very invested in Maya/Carina Travis/Emmett but there’s barely a story for them…
I always found Maya the most interesting Character even before Carina, her growth has been organic and her friendship with other characters is beautiful she share a different piece of herself to everyone, she slowly changed and opened up, that’s character development imo (I’d love to see her brother back and how he could impact her and Carina)
I’m sad Vic only get boyfriend storyline it’s like that’s all she is…they can write her with a different interest of personal story that doesn’t involve a man..
I wish Emmett would be a more central character, I think he went through a lot but we never got to see much of it, I hope they will develop his character more.
Jack could be great but they keep him very passive, flat, I hope they tackle the foster siblings storyline, I’d love to see more aspect of him, so far he become a bit boring…
Dean always had interesting storyline, he’s an amazing character but I don’t think he’ll be around for long…
Ben has some nice insight about others but I don’t know if the writers know what to do with him any longer…
Sullivan is a self righteous pos with a fragile masculinity, he’s petulant and wants to impose his will to everyone even by being borderline abusive somehow he gets more Storyline and screen time than any other…smh
Carina is Carina, she brings a fresh funny side to the show :Idioms and Cultural differences her way to understand a new culture through the eyes of Maya and introduce and show Italy to her, it’s kinda beautiful she also brings and a very passionate side from Maya, she doesn’t take shit especially from her.
She’s fun, lovable, she’s not perfect and that’s OK, she is very open about her feelings and I just hope in a more fluid and interesting storyline for her but I don’t have much hope for it…I’ll wait and see, I’m too invested to drop it now tbh, I hope the writers will make some adjustments soon…
This show and these characters have enormous potential but it can be easily destroyed….
These are all great points and I couldn't agree more. (I'm also jealous how you were able to send such a long ask, I still get character limits if I send an ask to someone lol)
It's sad because the show has such potential and has great characters and actors but they aren't using it. They've decided to stick with their two leads and force them as a couple when all they are is toxic for one another at this point and use other people as plot points in their storyline (aka Maya's demotion which I will forever be bitter about.) Whether they want to admit it or realize it, Andy is the most likable/interesting away from Sullivan and they did that for all of two episodes before going back to old habits. I get every show needs a Sullivan type character so whatever, it is what it is at this point.
But even the whole expansion of Station 23 is annoying me now. You have all these characters at Station 19 that you are barely writing for and now you're going to start expanding another station and writing for all these characters no one cares about? Like I'm sorry but there was absolutely NO reason to make Theo a series regular. The actor seems like a great guy but give me a break. You put Andy at Station 23 so that now he can interact with her every episode to make him more relevant and oh he's also with Vic which we know won't last because Dean is in love with Vic and obviously she likes him too even if she doesn't know it yet so really, what is the point of giving Theo all this time and attention? He's a short term plot point. It would've been fine if Andy was there for a few episodes and that's it but it really seems like they're going to drag this out to be all season and it's going to be misery.
I honestly don't know what to even expect for the rest of the season but it's probably going to disappoint and a lot of characters are going to get shafted and they definitely deserve better than what's going on right now.
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kazledazzel · 4 years ago
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hi!!! hope you’re doing well and your food tastes great! for the recent prompt thing...
camp! au
meet messy
“don’t you want to know how I’m feeling?”
pairing (if needed I didn’t see if it was HAHAH you can ignore this if it isn’t needed though hehehe): kierarktina
thank you! write well!! 💓
I’m so sorry this took me so long to reply to! i’ve been so busy but it’s finally done. it’s a little rushed and i’m sorry if it’s not very good, i’m not used to writing kierarktina but they are one of my favourite ships so i’ll try practice more. i hope you like this <3
ao3
As a camp counsellor, Cristina was supposed to set a good example for the campers. She was supposed to make sure they followed all the rules, including following curfew. Being a good camp counsellor probably meant she wasn’t supposed to be sitting on the floor of the camp kitchens at midnight crying over a tub of ice cream. Alas, Emma didn’t care about the fact that Cristina was supposed to set a good example, nor the fact that the first night of camp was way too early to be breaking the rules.
Emma’s cravings were not the only reason Cristina was in need of some ice cream. Cristina’s year had been miserable; she’d been dumped by her boyfriend and had had to put up with Zara Dearborn all year. Her best friend had completely shut her out for no reason, and had proceeded to run off to Switzerland. Or Sweden. Maybe it had been Italy; Cristina wouldn’t know. He hadn’t exactly sent postcards. 
Ice cream seemed to be an appropriate substitute for fake best friends and boys; besides, Cristina was back with her real best friends who had bothered to send postcards, or at least bothered to keep in touch. Emma Carstairs and Julian Blackthorn had become Cristina’s best friends last summer when they’d all met at camp. They had clicked instantly, and by summers end had agreed they would all come back the next summer to counsel once again. 
Last summer, Emma and Julian had fallen in love. Cristina hadn’t been bothered by it; she had been crushing on Mark Blackthorn at the time, but he’d been too busy fawning over Kieran Hunter to notice. She hadn’t really cared, because although Emma and Julian were having an epic love story, they never once made Cristina feel left out. However, now that things with Diego had ended badly, Cristina hoped she might get her own epic love story this summer. 
“I hate men,” Cristina blurted out randomly. She’d talked so much shit about Diego this year after he’d broken her heart, it was beginning to come her catchphrase. She didn’t actually hate men; but heartbreak could drive even flowery goddesses like Cristina to such statements. 
“Same,” Emma agreed, but she didn’t look very convincing. She sat in Julian’s arms, between his legs with his arms wrapped around her waist. She was painting his nails, wearing his hoodie, and had her brows furrowed in concentration. Julian, who had had his head buried in her neck, looked up. His fluffy brown hair was messy and he arched one brow. 
“You don’t hate me,” He said. 
“You’re right. I don’t. What were we talking about again?” Emma asked, as if her concentration was just now breaking. Julian kissed her cheek and she went back to painting his nails. Cristina felt a pang. She knew Julian and Emma would never purposely try and make her feel single. She also knew that they had lived equally as far away from each other as they had Cristina the past year. Emma had travelling with her parents for the year, while Julian had been in sunny LA. Still, Cristina felt a little lonely. 
Cristina could have lost herself in thought right then and there in the refrigerator light of the kitchens. Instead, she was interrupted but a loud bang and the light switching on. She jumped and yelped, worried that maybe they’d been caught. She glanced at Julian and Emma. Emma’s eyes were wild with surprise, and Julian had a black smudge of nail polish on one of his fingers.
There was another clash, and the loud yell of someone cursing. On impulse, Cristina stood up to see who was there. There, in the middle of the kitchen, stood Mark Blackthorn, hair messy from the humidity. He stood in the middle of the kitchen trying not to knock over another metal tray. He glanced up, and smiled upon seeing Cristina, Emma and Julian. 
He might have said hello, but Cristina could really hear. Last summer, she’d thought she’d fallen hard for Mark, but that was nothing compared to what she felt now. His voice was still the same familiar sound it had been last summer when he’d told stories around the campfire, and it struck a chord of nostalgia as Cristina found herself reminiscing on her old crush. 
It was just nostalgia, Cristina told herself. Julian and Emma might have made her want a summer romance, but Cristina wasn’t sure if she trusted herself around love anymore. Maybe her heart was still fragile, but then again, weren’t all hearts fragile?
“Cristina, isn’t it?” Mark said. Cristina tried to bring herself back to reality. She must have missed the first half of introductions, because Mark had overcome his clumsiness and now the rest of the group were looking at her expectantly. 
“Hi,” Cristina said, suppressing the rollercoaster of emotions she’d just felt. She smiled politely; probably a little too politely for a bunch on nineteen year olds on summer vacation. Mark beamed back. Maybe it was the dim kitchen lighting, but there was a splash on red on Mark’s cheeks. 
Another voice followed Cristina’s; a new one, less familiar to Cristina. 
“Mark?” The voice whispered. “Did you get the ice cream?” 
“Come in, Kier,” Mark replied to the voice. Kieran Hunter entered the kitchen, and the first thing Cristina noticed was that he’d dyed his black hair from last summer blue. The second thing she noticed was that he was considerably hotter than he had been last summer. 
“Hi,” Kieran said, a little shyer than Mark had been. 
“We were just going to get some ice cream and go look at the stars. Kier and I don’t get to see those much in New York,” Mark addressed the whole group, but then turned to Cristina. “You guys want to come?”
As the walked to the lake, Cristina found herself wedged between Kieran and Mark. At first she’d been with Emma and Jules, but the two of them hung back slightly, and Cristina wanted to give them privacy. Occasionally she’d look back to see if they were still following, and she’d see them walking hand in hand with heads bent together whispering. 
If Cristina had expected it to be awkward with Mark and Kieran, it wasn’t. Kieran had been a little quiet at first, but Mark was a natural conversationalist. Not in the polite chit chat way, but in the way he could say the most bizarre things and turn it into a meaningful conversation. To Cristina’s relief, Kieran finally warmed up. He knew a lot of the constellations and the legends behind them. Cristina couldn’t help looking at him. He had an ethereal sort of beauty, reminding Cristina of the fair folk he described and he talked about the myths behind the stars. 
When they reached the lake, Emma approached Cristina. She looked a little guilty, so Cristina braced herself. 
“Tina,” Emma started. “Would you absolutely hate me if I went for a walk with Jules? We might just walk back to the bunks we’re both ex-,”
“Emma,” Cristina said calmly. “It’s fine. You are both looking each other like lovesick puppies. Go get all the love out of your system. 
Emma smiled, but glanced worriedly at Mark and Kieran. 
“I don’t want to leave you if it’s awkward-,”
“It’s fine,” Cristina insisted, surprising herself. She didn’t mind being left with new people if it was what she had to do, but for some reason she actually wanted to stay with Kieran and Mark. Maybe it was awful of her, to be intruding in on them. She promised herself that if she felt like a third wheel, she’d leave. 
Cristina plopped herself down on the ground beside Mark and Kieran. Mark was in the middle of the three.
“What was that about?” He asked, looking suspiciously in the direction of his younger brother. 
“They wanted to go for a walk,” Cristina said innocently. From the corner of her eye, she could see Kieran grin. 
“Are you cold, Cristina?” Mark asked, and Cristina was a little taken aback by him offering her som of the blanket. She accepted with a little nod, and saddening all three of them were huddled together with the one blanket wrapped around them. 
Kieran nudged his boyfriend playfully. 
“Don’t you want to know how I’m feeling?” He asked, his steel grey eyes silver in the moonlight. 
“I got you your ice cream. I got you your blanket. What more do you want from me?” Mark laughed, and Cristina felt another pang, only this time it wasn’t loneliness. 
Here she was, with two beautiful boys beside her, and Cristina felt equally captivated by both of them.
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ms-rampage · 4 years ago
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We (mainly me, Athena, & Mara) don't know much about Mandeline Winchester.
Any background info?? 🙂🙂
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My favorite OC mother!!!!!
Full name: Mandeline Lucille Campbell (FC: Cristina Scabbia)
From: Scottsdale, Arizona on June 6 1970.
She's half Italian and American.
Her dad Samuel Campbell is from Houston, Texas and her mom Diana Bianchi is from San Marino, Italy, she moved to the U.S when she was 7 years old.
She has a younger sister named Mariette who was born in May of 1973. Although she isn't 100% fluent, she can speak Italian, and some Spanish.
Her dad was a hunter, she had her first encounter with a demon when she was 8 years old while on a hunting trip with her dad and grandfather Richard.
She met Joel Winchester her sophomore year in high school (1985) in Tucson, Arizona. They started dating after 3 months of knowing each other. They both kept their hunter lives a secret from their peers, her dad didn't really like Joel for a while, he saw him as a bad influence on her. When Joel joined the Army in 1988 then when off to Iraq in 1990 (Gulf War) it left Mandy devastated thinking he won't come back alive, but she didn't want to hold him back.
When he was injured, and was in a military hospital in Georgia. Mandy drove from Arizona to Georgia to see him, when he discharge (around April/May 1991) she had him live with her, and her family in Tucson.
He purposed to her in December 1991, they got married in September 1992 in Pheonix, bought their first house a few months later in the same city. She became pregnant with Paige around April/May of 1994, having her in January of 1995. Then around late December of 1997, she was pregnant with Katella giving birth to her in August of 1998.
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usaghinanami99 · 5 years ago
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Hugh Jackman’s world tour: a personal comment
Hi, everyone! I know I'm a bit late, but I'm here to post a not-so-brief coverage of Hugh Jackman's world tour The man, the music, the show, or at least of the performance I've been able to witness myself. To be precise, I attended the concert held inside the Hallenstadion, Zurich, on the 19th of May, which, by a lucky coincidence, also happened to be my 20th birthday. It's been a long trip by train to reach Zurich, and I want to deeply thank my mum for being the kindest parent in the world and going through all of this just to give me the best birthday present I'll ever have had. Oh, please bear with my English, which is less than stellar, unless I’ve written something absolutely incomprehensible (in which case, please don’t hesitate to contact me!). I must say I’m very grateful that Hugh, knowing he was in a non-Anglophone country, purposefully spoke at a very slow rhythm. Thanks for being so considerate and kind. [Edited to put all this wall of text under a cut]
First things first, I have to say I had never been to such a big event, and concerts I had previously attended were nothing like this one. I mean, the only non-classical music concerts I had been to before were shows by Cristina D'Avena and/or Giorgio Vanni (who are Italian national stars specialized in anime theme songs), where the relationship between the artist and the public was completely different, in the sense that it was a given that, after the performance, they would have got plenty of time to meet every fan who wanted to do so for signing sessions, answering questions etc., with no additional price or need to preorder whatsoever. Well, things are obviously different when one's level of fame goes from "national" to "global", so what I felt was lacking more from Jackman's show was a real contact with the public... save a few horribly lucky exceptions. I mean, it's not like I thought he could do a signing session with over twelve thousand fans, but all in all, I reckon that seeing a concert with so little first-hand contact is not all that different than seeing said artist through a screen (which, BTW, we still had to do, since it was not humanly possible to see Hugh and the dancers from the furthest places without the aid of the maxi-screens). I'm sorry to have to start this post with a negative opinion, but I also have to say that this was absolutely the only bad thing about this concert; that, and the fact that Hugh always had a shirt on. Because, otherwise, I was totally blown away by the majesty of the music, as always happens when my ears are graced with hearing Hugh's fabulous voice, with the added bonus of the spoken intermissions, which were endless fun to listen to (and quickly translate to mum).
The show, as probably expected, opened in medias res, with no sort of introduction (apart from a very brief on-screen montage of various scenes taken from Hugh's filmography), but directly on the notes of The greatest show, which, thanks to the meta nature of its lyrics, may very well work as the most fitting show-opener of all time. The first verses of the song already worked very well when the film started at the cinema, but were no less than perfect to introduce a real-life show like the one that Barnum was about to start in-universe. Unfortunately, the version performed was the one from the official soundtrack – I say "unfortunately" because I prefer the film version, where The greatest show is actually two different songs and we manage to hear sad!Barnum's amazing verses at the end of the first part – albeit tweaked a bit to cut Zac Efron's solo lines out. Nevertheless, this song is breathtaking in every rendition, as are all songs from TGS, at least in my opinion, so I was still blown away right from the start of the show, and I remained in a state of hyper-excitation for its whole duration. After the show-opener ended, the first spoken intermission came, which made us understand from the get-go that this was going to be a little bit more than a normal concert, with the inclusion of these short but interesting comedic numbers by the star. This sketch consisted in a weirdly long declaration of the importance of numbers, which in the end was only functional to Hugh declaring in a depressed tone that he's fifty. A fact which matters not, seeing how he is still the sexiest man alive (disclaimer: I am not a gerontophile by any means, I usually lust over younger men and women, but Hugh's sexiness is something that transcends this, also because he objectively looks at least a decade younger than he is) and how insanely athletic he is for his age, a thing which we can confirm first-hand with all the crazy dancing he did on stage... and dancing while singing, may I add. And always with his shirt on, to boot. Man, that must have been hard. Oh, and he also said that, in case we were those horrible people who left before the show ended to have an easier time with the traffic, he would tell us when there'd be only two songs left. I wonder who on earth could have been that insane.
Immediately following this, Come alive came next, with its usual irresistible catchyness. The only negative side is that PT didn't actually put his red coat on in the epic and sexy way we see him do in the film, but I think I can live without that. I really liked the following transition, because, right after starting the show with his latest musical project, Hugh took us back to the start of his thetrical career, telling us how he still can't believe he won the audition to portray Gaston in the Sydney 1995 version of the Beauty and the beast stage musical (the theatric adaptation of the 1991 Disney Classic), seeing how he still had to take singing lessons. Now, the following part was my personal favourite of the whole show, given the fact that B&B is, in my opinion, the very best film ever created, as well as featuring my eternal OTP and sporting Alan Menken (the greatest composer alive) at the very highest of his career, who graced us with the most breathtaking songs I've ever listened to; oh, and Marjorie Biondo is my favourite singer on earth, to boot. So, you may imagine just how elated I was at the perspective of my favourite film meeting one of my favourite singers/actors! I had obviously already listened to Hugh's rendition of Gaston's songs from the official recording of the Sydney cast, just how I also watched Beauty and the beast in every language it's ever been dubbed into, because that's just how much of a fangirl I am; the only other film I've got such an extensive experience of is Frozen. That being said, I honestly reckon that Hugh's singing skills have dramatically improved during the almost-24 years that passed between that recording and this concert, even if he was already an excellent singer at the start of his career! Well, to put things shortly, Gaston was the musical number that followed, and it was undoubtedly the one that I enjoyed the most. The one performed was obviously the stage musical version, which is a bit longer than the original film version because of its lenghty dancing-only intermission; well, the crew didn't actually dance on tables, but the atmosphere was still there, thanks to Hugh being very in character as the sexy but sexist asshole that is Gaston, and the choreography involving tons of fake beer. That being said, since there was no LeFou present, the song was presented in a somewhat abridged rendition, starting from the "When I was a lad..." lines, but then recuperating some of the earlier stanzas and putting them out-of-order before the finale. The visual highlight of the number was Hugh lifting one dancer per arm to prove that Gaston has indeed "got biceps to spare", but sadly he didn't open his shirt like Gaston does in the film to show that every last inch of him's covered with hair. That was the saddest thing ever, imho. Still, I can confirm Hugh Jackman as being on the second spot in my ranking of the best Gastons ever, right after the inimitable Carlo Lepore, not to mention the fact that he's the sole and only baritone I can accept as Gaston. I mean, the character really needs a basso to fit his physical appearance and personality, especially in the film, and a basso also sounds much better in Gaston's songs, but Hugh somehow manages to make a baritone Gaston credible, like no other's been able to. Well, to be honest, maybe he's helped by the fact that he portrayed him in a stage musical and not in a film, so he didn't have to adjust his voice in order to be perfectly glued to the already-present face of a character; still, I regard this feat as something amazing, and you can't change my mind. As a side note, my mum, too, was quite happy during this number, because Gaston was pretty much the only song in the whole concert that she already knew; after all, you can't not know Beauty and the beast if you live with me, since I watch it obsessively every month (I'm still amazed by the fact that the videotape has never broken).
After an introduction with his own music repertoire, Hugh then went on to a small series of covers from different artists, starting with Fred Astaire's classic The way you look tonight (taken from the film Swing time), and on with other songs I had never heard him perform; which was a very nice surprise, because I really didn't expect to listen to anything new that evening! He thanked Switzerland for existing because that's where his parents first met (awww), which means that the country is very important for him, and thanked his public for being there for him, especially those of us who came by train or by plane – which means that Hugh Jackman thanked me, I'm definitely not delusional. But next time come to Italy, pleeease! After this, he performed I've been everywhere, which seems to be a popular Australian song where the singer mentions the hundreds of cities in the country that he's visited; this number was particularly hilarious because Hugh randomly added Zurich to the mix, and because, during an instrumental break, he asked the cameraman to show the audience the small screen where he could read the lyrics... seems that even Hugh Jackman is a human being after all, who would've guessed? Next came two songs from the film Dear Evan Hansen (absolutely watch it if you haven't!), which happens to be scored by the same Benj & Paul of The greatest showman fame, starting with the melancholy, but at the same time uplifting, You will be found, which was my personal favourite among the unreleased covers of this concert. The second song was the tearjerker For forever, a romantic ballad that Hugh aptly dedicated to his wife, and even played by himself on the piano, because apparently there's nothing this man can't do. The number was accompanied by pictures of Hugh, Deborra and their children on the screens, at which I literally couldn't not cry of too many feels... And, at the end of the song, she even went up on-stage to hug and kiss her hubby. Gosh, I envy her so much even as I still totally ship her with her husband, but really, Deborra Lee-Furness may very well be the luckiest woman alive. Returning to Benjamin and Paul, he then told us of how they composed and wrote This is me during a plane trip, one single day before a workshop where the film would be pitched. He then proceeded to recount the famous anecdote of how Keala Settle, who should've only sung this song at the workshop and wasn't to portray Lettie in the film, stunned everyone with her performance so much that she was immediately chosen for the role. This intermission, of course, served the purpose of introducing the night's special guest: the audience seemed to explode when Hugh announced Keala's entrance, to the point that I think that quite a few of them hadn't read that she would make an appearance. Anyway, even without her beard on her impression as Lettie is incredible, and her rendition of This is me was as breathtaking as always (incidentally, she also sang Tom's lines as well as her own). After her number had ended, she briefly thanked everyone who gave her the opportunity to play Lettie, and even the character herself, since she helped her become more determined, all while weeping tears of joy, which caused Hugh to cry, and... I can't. I just can't. These two are so amazing together and I want to see them in thirty more films singing and being happy one with the other.
After Keala exited the stage, a medley consisting of three songs from Les misérables started, introduced by footage from the film of Colm Wilkinson as the bishop giving Valjean the candelabra (you know the scene). The first part of the medley consisted of the aptly titled Valjean's soliloquy, which Hugh soloed with all the amazing skill we've already witnessed in the film. What I wasn't expecting, though, was for a background singer to own the spotlight as a full-on soloist: the second part of the series was none other than I dreamed a dream, in a rendition where a singer called Jenna Lee-James played Fantine. And, oh my gosh... I still have to listen to all versions of the stage musical, but what I know for sure is that I liked this performance even better than the one from the film (sorry, Anne!). I didn't think I would come out of a one-man show determined to check out a never-heard-before artist, but here I am, and it was definitely worth it; Jenna has got such a melodious, angelic voice, that I'm sure you'll be enchanted by her, too. The last number of the medley, as well as the closer of the first act, was One day more (which is already more or less a medley by itself, lol), where basically everyone had the opportunity to shine: since this is such a big ensemble number where almost every main character has got some solo lines, many different background singers managed to step out of the shadow and be recognized for their raw talent. While I'm somewhat sad that Bring him home wasn't included in the concert, this song was a truly satisfying act-closer, thanks to it epic proportions and majesticity.
After a well-deserved pause of twenty minutes for the artists, the second hour-long act opened with the cameraman gracing us with a glorious zoom-in on Hugh's butt (though I prefer his buttshots as Wolverine because here he was sadly wearing his trousers); it doubled as sexy and hilarious when the cameraman started to zoom out, only for Hugh to reprimand him and ask him to keep the focus on. By the way, at this point Hugh was already in-costume as Peter Allen, which means that he was wearing that absurdly sparkling jacket, so unfortunately it was a bit difficult to look at him without being blinded by all the *sparkle sparkle*. The initial musical numbers of the second act consisted in a series of freaking seven songs composed by Peter in various occasions and then posthumously used for the biographical stage musical The boy from Oz (I'm writing it here so that I don't have to repeat the various songs' origins every time), for which Hugh played the protagonist role in the Broadway version. The first one was obviously the legendary Not the boy next door, which was as spectacular as you can imagine, with the highlight consisting in Hugh taking the sparkling jacket off (for which my eyes thanked him in every possible sense) and spend the better part of the medley in a bright red shirt. All in all, this was probably the funniest number of the show; but then came the most irritating part, where Hugh invited a random man from the public to dance with him, and by "dance" I mean "being impossibly close and touchy-feely to the point that it was almost hard to distinguish where one ended and where the other started". I reckon it would've been sexy if the other person had been slightly hotter (for example, Hugh Jackman on Zac Efron brings infinite possibilities to mind), but he was just your regular middle-aged man, so no, there wasn't much fanservice for everyone except for him. I mean, Hugh even stroked. his. chest. Not fair. While rationally I know that it could never have been me because 1) I was as far away from the stage as you can get, since we bought the most economic tickets, and 2) he was in-character as Peter, so he needed a man, I'm still impossibly envious of this random man who's got the greatest luck of us all for no particular reason. Jeez, maybe I'm unneedlessly bitter, but I almost hope he's hetero, 'cause if he's either gay or bisexual, then he'd really have got the biggest luck of his life. Not-so-funny sketch aside, the show went on with a preposterous medley of songs from Peter's repertoire (and, indirectly through the musical, also Hugh's own) with no further interruptions: these were, in order, Best that you can do, the only one recycled from a previous musical, namely Arthur; Don't cry out loud, a pop song that Peter originally composed for a female voice, so it was a bit unexpected to hear Hugh sing it; I honestly love you, another pop piece, this one originally sung by Olivia Newton-John (which happens to be Hugh's childhood idol, by the way); Quiet please, there's a lady on stage, this one written, composed and sung by Peter himself; the iconic I go to Rio, where we found out that Hugh's red shirt actually concealed another layer of clothing – that is, the hilariously iconic pineapple shirt (and yes, he did use the maracas); and Tenterfield saddler, with which the medley closed. As previously mentioned, these songs were created by Peter for various different occasions, either for musicals or for more traditional albums, but were later reused for TBFO, sung either by Hugh-as-Peter or by other characters. All in all, this part was really enjoyable, and a totally deserved tribute to Allen's musical legend, even if one can question the inclusion of some minor pieces which kept the much more beloved I still call Australia home from being in the show.
After this, Hugh went on a speech about how dreams are important, and we know what this means: it's A million dreams time! The cutest thing is that this song was accompanied by a woman translating the lyrics into sign language... even though I must admit I struggle to conceive that a deaf would want to attend a concert, so the sense of the operation is a bit lost on me. Anyway, the version performed followed once again the soundtrack instead of the film, and once again I confess I prefer the latter, mainly because kid!Charity is also featured in it; on the other hand, it's true that the soundtrack version has got some additional verses, and the abrupt transition between the kid and the adult Barnum (which is much more nuanced in the film) is breathtaking. The parts were divided between Hugh Jackman as adult!PT, Jenna Lee-James as adult!Charity and another female singer whose name I'm desperately searching for as kid!PT. This song, which was already one of my absolute favourites, is still amazing in this rendition, but Jenna is possibly even better than Michelle (who is awfully talented in her own right), and now I really want to hear her sing Tightrope.
Following this, it was the turn for another long medley, this time a set of five covers from classic US musicals; this part of the show was introduced by Hugh confessing that he's got a very difficult upbringing... because there was only one TV channel when he was a kid, so he watched the same things over and over again (not that we do things differently even now that we can choose among many different channels), which led to his infatuation for old-style musical comedies. The songs composing this medley were: Luck be a lady tonight from the film Guys and dolls, then made even more famous by Frank Sinatra; Gene Kelly's preposterously famous Singing in the rain from the homonyme film, complete with fake rain and real umbrellas; I got rhythm from the film Girl crazy; Fred Astaire's Stepping out with my baby from the film Easter parade; and Benny Goodman's crazily-paced Sing sing sing. Needless to say, Hugh totally owned all of these songs, and I think this is the part of the whole show where his unadultered love for singing, dancing and generally being on stage shone through the most; of course the man is an excellent cinema actor, but you can clearly see that he's more elated when in a theatre or otherwise in front of an audience.
Immediately after came what was very probably the most physically prowing number for the cast, as well as the only non-sung one: after narrating that his brother was so much of an asshole that he discouraged him from taking dance lessons when he was a child, he proclaimed his happiness for having finally managed to study tip tap, which transitioned into a full-fledged tip tap routine with accompanying background music. This was admittedly the part of the show that I enjoyed the least, even if I did like it well enough (that's just to say how much I love this concert), because of the lack of singing and because I'm not the biggest fan of tap dancing. The funniest thing is that, at the end of the routine, Hugh exclaimed: <<Do you think that Ryan Reynolds could do that?>> and then did his Wolverine shtick using the battery sticks. Absolutely amazing. Oh, and after this exhausting number he turned back to drink, and even lampshaded the fact that we could take advantage of his tiredness to enjoy the view.
Then some brief footage from Australia was shown to introduce the members of a humanitarian organization called "Nomad two worlds", which made up the serious part of the show: the number in question consisted of a few men singing while two other men played the didgeridoo and a woman recited a poem. I should mention that all of these people were Aboriginals. After the end of the performance, it was explained to us that the woman who was on stage next to Hugh was actually a member of the Australian parliament who had a key role when their nation finally asked official forgiveness to the Aboriginals for the prosecution of their people. It was a very touching moment, indeed. With this over but still keeping on theme with Australia, Hugh performed a cover of Somewhere over the rainbow from the film The wizard of Oz (like his colleague and friend Nicole Kidman did in that film), and I wouldn't be lying if I said that I honestly prefer him over Judy Garland.
Then cam the most unexpected number of the whole concert, i.e., a cover of Mack the knife from Bertolt Brecht's Three-penny opera, which maybe would've fit better earlier in the programme; after which, Hugh actually told us that there were only two songs left, in case anyone wanted to leave early (I mean, does he think we’re crazy?). The following one was From now on, which I honestly expected to be used as the show-closer, but was nevertheless incredibly breathtaking; this is my favourite song of The greatest showman, in particular because it lets Hugh Jackman show everyone that he's truly the best belter of the world. From now on is also one of the two cases in which I prefer the soundtrack version of the song over the one from the film, since, like Tightrope, it features a bunch of additional verses. Unfortunately, though, Hugh performed an abridged version of the song, only starting with "I drank champagn with kings and queens...", maybe because it would've been difficult to hear him during the first part of the piece, which is sung while whispering. Anyhow, it was still exciting as heck, and the background dancers were even more amazing than usual. And, right when I was left asking myself what the final number would be, Hugh started singing another piece written, composed and sung by Peter Allen (albeit this time not in-character) and then used for TBFO; namely, Once before I go, which is incredibly fitting as a show-closer thanks to its lyrics. Thus the concert ended, with the main star, the special guests, the singers, the dancers and the orchestra bowing in front of the audience. I was appalled by the lack of an encore, and especially by the fact that no one in the public was apparently screaming for one like you usually do at a concert, but I was still utterly satisfied by the experience. Every member of the crew was simply fantastic, not just Hugh, and I'm very happy I've been so lucky to witness this show. ...I'm just still wondering why What a beautiful morning wasn't included in the programme, nor any other song from Oklahoma. That's jarring, I think.
Believe me, I would've totally stayed and bought some souvenirs, if it weren't for mummy, who wanted to go straight to bed; but, after all, she's already done so much for me, in exchange for nothing, that I can hardly believe it. She is the person I have to thank the most for this out-of-the-world trip and I couldn't be happier of being her daughter. So, many thanks to Hugh Jackman and all the others who made this concert possible, but even more thanks to the only one who made me being at this concert possible. Anyway, I simply cannot wait for Hugh to come back where he belongs to, now that his partecipation in The music man has been announced; I obviously won’t be able to go to Broadway to see the musical, but you can be sure I’m going to purchase the soundtrack album as soon as it comes out. What can I say, I love the man and I’m very happy he’s been able to realize both his personal and professional dreams.
If you've come this far, congratulations! I hope you've liked this totally unprofessional coverage, and I'd love it if you could link me to someone who's written a similar piece about a different performance, because I'm very interested in knowing how they differ between one another. Thanks for reading!
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smolfangirl · 6 years ago
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Cómo te pido
Based on the song and mv for “Cristina” by Sebastián Yatra, and some of my own experiences. I hope you enjoy this ♥
Word count: 5.8k
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Entre tanta gente yo te vi llegar
Algo en el destino me hizo saludar
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One day off. One single day of getting lost in the city, not found by anyone except himself. That’s all he wants, craves, after weeks and weeks of being praised as someone who exists solely in the minds of the media and his fans.
One day, and he couldn’t even get that.
It starts with some teenagers chilling on the staircase to the metro, asking for pics, and soon they’ll be all over Instagram and a group of paparazzi and reporters will follow him – Matteo knows the deal. The business.
And frankly, he’s tired of it.
///
The moment he steps into the bar, he wonders if this was the right decision. The air feels hot in his lungs, the smell of cigarettes and cheap beer burns in his nose, while his eyes struggle to find the barkeeper in the crowd blocking the counter. He pulls the hood of his sweatshirt deeper into his face before he slowly makes his way to the bar.
No one looks at him for more than just a second.
///
She’s looking at him.
The stage light creates the illusion of a halo around her, and she’s looking at him with a smile so bright and honest, he can’t tear his gaze away from her. At first, he feared she recognized him, saw through his terrible disguise, but the longer he watches her, the more he relaxes. During his career, he’s seen hundred versions of people spotting him and freaking out. That girl is not one of them.
So, he winks back at her.
///
Her voice sounds as sweet and golden as on the stage, like honey that’s sticking to his soul instead of his fingers. She appears next to him out of nowhere, asking if the seat is taken as she already casually jumps on it. With a chuckle, he replies that he won’t ask her to leave, and the moment she directs another smile at him, the burden of being a superstar whirls off his shoulders.
“Do you usually arrive only to see the last performance of the night?” she asks, head tilted. Her hair falls freely over her shoulder, a tangled mess that somehow frames her face perfectly.
Grimacing, he reaches for his drink. The wine still tastes like a grape took a piss in his glass, although that detail is forgotten the instant he figures out what to answer. “No, but usually, the last performance isn’t worth paying attention to.”
“You’ve never been here before.”
“And you’ve never had a drink with someone as cool as me.”
That makes her laugh. He feels pride rushing through his veins, like when his music makes someone happy or when his mom looks at him with tears in her eyes after watching a performance from him.
She leans closer. “Technically, I’m not having a drink right now.”
The smile on his face never leaves, only deepens. “Then it’s about time we change that.”
///
At some point after midnight, long after his phone ran out of battery, the barkeeper releases a heavy sigh and asks them to leave. They’re the only ones left in the entire room.
At the exit, he stops. Glances over his shoulder, at this place he’d never expect to find (or look for). For a few hours, he had a safe haven, away from fans, flashing cameras and obnoxious voices chanting his name. It was worth the stifling air, the hint of vomit out of the toilets, the headache the cheap wine will give him in the morning. Whatever happened tonight will end too soon, even when he’s not ready to give it up just yet.
“You okay?” Luna’s hand lingers on his arm, gently guides him back to reality, where her last laugh still echoes through the bar.
Upon facing her, he discovers a frown on her face. “Yeah, sure. Just wanted to make sure I left nothing behind.”
“Okay.”
The air leaking inside from the entrance hits him with all its coldness, reminding him of what kind of world he’s returning to.
Silencing the sigh rooted in his chest, Matteo hides in his hoodie again. “Okay, let’s go.”
She holds him back. Lets her hand hush over his cheeks, carefully tugging the fabric until the hood falls on his back. “You shouldn’t hide such a beautiful face.”
His breath hitches. Eventually, he whispers back, “You can never be too careful in a city like this.”
“I keep wondering if you’re new around here, you know?”
That’s the curse of being a star, he thinks. He’s not new to this city – or any other – yet knows nothing that exists outside of his hotel and the venue. And with Luna, everything feels new altogether.
“I am.”
She smiles, again, and if every camera in the world had only one picture left, that’s what he’d photograph. “I can show you around then, if you’d like.”
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Y empecé mis planes para vernos otra vez
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“You want me to put skates on my feet?” Half protesting, half questioning her, his mind already paints vivid pictures of him in an emergency room, sitting in a wheelchair with one leg and two arms broken, as his manager yells at him.
“What did you think the helmets were for?”
“I don’t know, something less dangerous? Cycling, maybe?”
“Are you trying to tell me you never skated before?”
Matteo sighs, rubbing his arm. “I used to. As a kid.” In the street where his grandparents used to live, back in Italy. Some part of his body always carried a scratch or a bruise during those summer days, he remembers ending up on the ground a lot, and the band-aids his mom used to ease the pain. (With funny little fruits on them.)
Luna dangles her boots in front of him with a smile that sends his heart into overdrive. “Then this will be even more fun.”
“Luna…” His heartbeat picks up at the mere idea of falling. When he was younger, he felt invincible enough to risk it, but looking at her, at the skates, he feels like his whole body is made of glass.
“I’ll hold your hand the entire time.”
Maybe he won’t fall.
///
He can’t remember the last time it’s been so dark around him. On the street, cameras blind him even through his sunglasses. At home, his phone never gives him a rest, blinking for every message, every notification that comes in. Even in the bar they met in light leaked behind closed doors, from the stage or as a broken reflection from a cocktail glass. His whole world is bright and open and cruel – there’s no shadow to make one wrong move in.
Here, everything is dark and soft and honest. When he glimpses behind the curtain, he can see the stars sprinkled over the sky. Next to him, Luna is dozing off, the silver moon light dancing on her cheekbone. He can hear the beat of his own heart, calm and steady in a rhythm it hasn’t found in years.
Just as he closes his eyes, Luna shifts on the mattress until he feels her gaze settle on him. “I can’t believe I’m doing this”, she whispers.
“What, camping?”
“Going on a road trip with someone I barely know. You could be an axe murderer.”
Or worse, a popstar who could get you on the front cover of every gossip magazine you ever heard of. Out loud, he chuckles. “Damn, you caught me. How will you fall asleep now that you discovered my darkest secret?”
She tries to slap him on his arm only to hit his blanket, and he keeps her fingers locked and secure in his own hands. “You know what, Luna, you put up too much of a fight. I’m gonna have mercy on you.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“And you’re freezing.”
Her voice grows softer, shy almost. “The blanket’s not very warm.”
For a moment, they fall quiet. The wind creates a melody in the tree tops, plays with the leaves like a five-year old chasing a ball, and Matteo thinks about the bottom drawer in his mom’s kitchen, the one that doesn’t close completely, because of this one pot that’s a millimeter too big. He thinks about the empty jars his mom keeps in there for her strawberry marmalade, and how he wants to store this feeling in them, forever. This moment, this peace, won’t last, but perhaps he could lock it away, remember it, completely: the wind outside, the muffled rustling from his blanket as he robs closer to her. How her body curves against his like she’s a matching puzzle piece.
How he falls asleep, wondering if all these coincidences that lead him here are just his destiny in disguise.
///
He’s been to many beaches. Beaches in Italy during his childhood, where he mostly cared about how good the sand would build up to castles. Beaches on vacations, where he was surrounded with people who didn’t wish to be bothered by anyone, just like him. Once or twice he performed at a beach festival. He got his skin burned, got tanned. Went swimming and snorkeling and hired jet skis to cruise on the ocean.
He never just stood and watched.
“What a view, huh?”
Next to him, Luna stands in the breeze, eyes half closed as she wears this smile again that could replace the sun. Her dress softly flaps around her legs, and the wind plays with her hair. Yeah, what a view.
“I wonder if there’s a way to get down there,” he says out loud.
Grimacing, she glances down the cliff separating them from the ocean. “Unless you wanna jump down there, I don’t think so.”
“That’s a shame.”
“There’ll be other beaches, you know. That we can actually go to.” Her fingers dance over his arms, the silent encouragement only contradicted by the soft laugh that follows. Goosebumps run over his skin, his stomach ties itself into a knot, but Matteo can’t quite fathom a smile. As long as they’re alone, his mind is too full of her and the rush of emotions she brings along like a fresh breath of air after sitting in the studio all day. But she’ll say something like this, reminding him that there’s more out there, people and social media and another life for him, and his chest tenses until he’s almost suffocating.
Luna has no clue, of course. She doesn’t know better, so she lets him discover her, lets him read through her past and thoughts and feelings like it’s nothing more than a sweet novel to get lost in during vacations. And he knows better, so he turns page after page, trying to memorize the lines, the ticking clock a constant noise in the back of his mind.
The more he gets to know her, the more he dreads going back to the spotlight. (The more he falls for her, too.)
“Let me take a picture of you. With this beach, okay?” he begs her. The dimple on her cheek deepens as she carefully places her camera in his hand. Her touch still lingers on his palm when he snaps the first picture, and he can’t hurry enough to capture the softness in her gaze, or the brightness in her smile. He hasn’t grown tired of admiring her, and with the camera in his hands, he finally allows himself to keep more than just a fond memory. If a few pictures are going to be the only thing left when reality catches him in its iron fist again, he’ll hold onto every tiny snippet of them.
///
Luna takes pictures of him, too. On that cliff, in front of the crystal-clear sky which is only outdone by the shimmering blue of the ocean. In a small town when they wander through the streets and follow graffities bursting with color. When they stumble upon the kid bringing the grey walls to life with his spray cans, and he poses with him as if they were best friends. When she invites him for ice cream and a hungry seagull steals his cone directly out of his hand.
Every night after dawn, she cuddles up to him in the campervan to show him her favorite pictures.
Once, she’s fast asleep next to him, he scrolls through his phone to the file with the pictures from photoshoots and magazine covers. The Matteo in there smiles too, but it isn’t real. Luna brings out the smile in his eyes, and in the picture he’s staring at, the curve on his lips is plastered on like the make-up on his forehead. For his work, he acts like a mannequin, nothing more than a prop to polish someone’s Instagram page and give his fans the illusion of knowing him.
In Luna’s pictures, he’s happy. Silly even, if he wants to. When she focuses her camera on him, there’s no expectation in the little click of the lens, so he lets go and smiles because one look from her pulls the corners of his mouth up. Sometimes she pulls a grimace at him that he copies, and sometimes, he leans down to kiss her cheek right before she takes a selfie.
He hopes that when this is over, she’ll look at these little moments, knowing she unlocked a side of him no one else saw before.
///
Recuerdo todo lo que te gustaba
Y tu camisa que llega a los pies
Esa carita cuando te cantaba por primera vez
///
Her phone died. In the middle of the song, two seconds away from her favorite part, and he expects the pout on her face before he tears his gaze away from the street. Before he met her, he never even heard of the band, too busy with his own music. Now, his fingers tap the melody on the steering wheel with ease, and he finishes the song so naturally like the words were tattooed into his veins. It’s not until he falls silent again that he glimpses over to her.
Tears glisten in her eyes.
“You have a beautiful voice,” she whispers.
“Thanks,” he replies, smiling to himself. (After signing his first contract, he never thought these words could mean so much again.)
“I mean it. I can totally see you becoming a singer or something. Hey, maybe I could ask Simón if he’d be up for a collaboration, or…” Her enthusiasm intensifies with every word she rambles, but it’s not contagious this time, not when his mind already paints a new picture of the worst case. She probably knows her best friend’s phone number by heart, and she’ll sneak his phone out of his pocket to call him, and he’ll know more about a certain Matteo Balsano than she imagines, so she’ll find out who he is (or who everyone else knows him as) and hate him and he’ll have to let her go, and he’s not ready for that.
“Matteo?” Her voice snaps him back to reality. “Are you okay?”
Is he? His knuckles turned white as he’s driving, and he clenches his teeth so hard that his jaw hurts. “Um, sure, yeah. I’m fine. I just don’t think I’m the type for a boy band.”
The frown on her forehead tells him he seriously needs to work on his white lies. But before she gets to needle him with more questions, Matteo gives her his most charming smile and asks, “Are you in for a duet though? Like, right now?”
A few minutes later he thinks that no professionally recorded and produced duet could ever live up to the harmony that is her voice melting into his.
///
Y si pudiera mostrarte
Que estando juntos ya no hay nada que falte
///
She asked him to pull over, again. The coastal view tempted her too much, and she’s sorry and hiding behind her open hair, even when he’s coming to a stop without as much as raising an eyebrow. Leaning against the van, Matteo watches her standing in the breeze, arms wide open, a huge smile on her face. One glance over her shoulder, and he’s by her side. She raises an eyebrow at him, more a challenge than a question, so he smirks and twirls her around until a laugh pearls over her lips. Bumping into his chest, Luna is still giggling, still making his heart feel like a race car that’s cruising his ribcage. With her arms around his neck, she pulls him into a dance along to the rhythm of their heartbeats. (A scene just like a music video, he thinks, except that it’s real.)
She takes the lead. Whirls him around just like he did, fuels him with every look out of her dazzling green eyes. There’s the thought of kissing her, again. A part of him already suspects that he’ll never stop writing songs about her once his lips get to know hers, but this urge never burned him so fast from the inside.
This time, he won’t fight it.
Matteo allows himself to give in, every move is now aimed to get him closer to her, every breath he takes hopes to be shared with her, and he’s falling, falling, falling.
They’re slow dancing now. Her face is hidden in his chest, both arms wrapped around him as if he’s her favorite stuffed animal. The sun creates the illusion of diamonds on her hair, and he feels endlessly torn between soaking up this pure moment, and finally pressing his mouth on hers. Her fingers sneak over his shirt, caress him light as a feather. Matteo is done, defeated, desperate, as her name slips out in nothing more than a whisper.
Their eyes meet.
He leans in.
Thunder growls above them.
Her, ducking away. Pulling him along, towards the van. The moment he blinks up at the sky to the dark clouds sneaking in, she hastily explains, “I think we need to leave now.” He stumbles behind her, speechless. (Because all he feels is her hand intertwined with his fingers.)
///
They don’t talk while Matteo is driving. He’s focused on the road, and the rain clatters on the windscreen too loudly anyway, killing any hope for a conversation. Luna tried to ask him if driving in this weather was a good idea, but the noise swallowed her voice, so she gave up. Now she’s staring into the angry sky outside, pretending she’s not tempted to sneak another glimpse at him, and then another.
Her mind is overflowing with things left unsaid, with confessions and too many questions. He wanted to kiss her, she’s pretty sure about that. And he might still want to kiss her.
Everything else, though, remains a mystery.
How can she be sure she knows him at all, anyway? A book in a foreign language wouldn’t be as hard to decipher as he is. He never mentions his everyday life, or his job. The one time she asked, he said he worked in the entertainment industry, and then he changed the topic. He talks about his childhood, but never his presence. She still doesn’t know why he refused to leave the back of the van three days ago, when she refueled the van and got some snacks in a small city by the coast. Maybe he’s just weird, maybe he’s hiding something, an ex who he’s not keen on running into, or something worse. Maybe she doesn’t want to know.
But these doubts never linger in her mind long enough. Because their eyes meet or he gets her without a single look, or they laugh for ten minutes straight about the same dumb joke, or he smiles at her so gently it takes her breath away. Like right now, as he catches her glare and in an instant, her mouth runs dry.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.” A bold lie. She’s thinking about a lot of things, like how soft his lips look, or how her stomach feels like it might burst and how she wants to be close to him for the rest of her life.
And how he better kiss her soon, because otherwise she definitely will.
///
They end up stranded in the middle of nowhere.
The storm rages on, too harsh for them to keep going, and now they’re in bed, listening to the wind howling. Lightning crushes down somewhere close to the van, for a moment, everything is silver and bright and scary. Then, darkness returns. With a shaky breath, Luna pulls her blanket closer.
“Are you okay?” Matteo whispers. The mattress gives in to his weight as he shifts around, before his hand finds her clenched fist underneath the thin fabric. “You’re cold.”
“You’re hot.”
“May I?”
Her reply, “Sure”, already dies on her tongue. He must have heard it anyway, because he robs closer until she’s in his arms, surrounded by his warmth and his scent and the daydream of his lips on hers. “Thank you,” she says, turning to what she hopes is the outline of his face in the dark.
Lightning, again.
He’s close, closer than she expected. His breath hovers over her face. The memory of this afternoon flickers through her mind, the anticipation that built up ever since they sat in that little bar, the tension in the air when they glimpse at each other at the same time and –
Finally, Matteo kisses her.
///
Solo tienes que saber
Que yo quisiera quedarme
///
Sunlight caresses her cheek. Matteo is feeding her grapes, piece after piece, as he snuggles up to her left side until her blanket becomes kind of redundant. The morning is nothing like last night, quiet and soft, the early sky a canvas of pastels.
“Do you think we can go to the beach today?”
“If we find one, sure.” He nips on his coffee cup, the grapes now out of her reach, then pats over the blanket, probably in search for his phone.
“How come you keep looking for the same things every morning?”
“I don’t know, I swear it was just right here… ah, got it!” A frown finds its way on his forehead while he begins to type. Then, a soft groan, followed by more typing.
She nudges him with her shoulder. “Let me guess, you’re still trying to find a beach where it’s just us?”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with any beach either.”
“Why don’t you just…” He falls silent, gaze suddenly stuck on the screen. The wrinkle above his eyes deepens. His thumb lingers in the air, frozen.
“Why don’t I just what?” Luna asks, her hand finally getting a hold on the grapes, so she at least has something to do.
The sigh he replies with doesn’t exactly promise good news. “I got a text message from work and… seems like they need me back soon.”
Her eyes flutter shut. She thinks of last night, of the dawn, when the first thing she felt upon waking up was his arm loosely wrapped around her, and the second thing his lips greeting her. She thinks of sitting on the beach, a golden sunset in front of them as she steals a kiss from him, safe in his arms. She thinks of the deadlines and unwritten reports and papers waiting for her at home. “How soon?”
“A few days. A week, if I really push it.”
“We’d have to drop off the van early.”
“I don’t want to. I’d rather stay here. With you.” With one hand, Matteo pushes a strand that escaped her ponytail overnight behind her ear. His words hit her straight in her chest, from where a thousand butterflies escape into her bloodstream. “And why can’t you?” she whispers.
“I can’t just… quit. I’m too important there.”
Chuckling, Luna hides her face in his shoulder. When he asks her what’s wrong, she glances up at him, grinning only harder. “You are such a chico fresa, Matteo,” she explains, and the confusion sticks on his face even after she tucks a grape behind his sweet lips.
///
The ocean underneath her feet. The smell of sunscreen lingering in her nose. His smile around her, more constant than the sun in the sky. Her, trailing after him like she’s indeed a silver rocket in the universe and he’s her earth.
For an instant, Luna ponders about this moment, certain she’ll miss it at some point later. But then, he makes her laugh again and all that matters is now.
///
No sé cómo te pido que te enamores
Cuando al final no voy a estar cuando tu llores
(Cuando de ti me enamoré)
///
“Oh my god, guys, that’s Matteo Balsano!” Half a scream, half a whisper. It’s too soon for him to be pulled back into his superstar life, but too late to escape it – that life, his fans, and the realization dawning upon Luna.
“Matteo! Can we take a picture?” Louder. Flashlights. A forced smile on his lips.
“Can you sign this? For Kaylee?”
“Can I have a photo too?” Three phones all up in his face. Four. “I can’t believe we’re running into the Matteo Balsano, just like that!”
Hands, trying to touch whatever is closest to them, trying to nudge him away from where he wants to be. “Why did you disappear for two weeks?”
Luna, gone from his side.
///
Time moves too slowly. She needs answers, explanations. Now. He’s still standing at the other side of the street, those girls stuck to him like fruit flies trapped in honey. She wants them gone, and she wants to be home already, in the silent comfort of her room.
Time moves too quickly. She needs space, something familiar. Her brain is still catching up on what happened, and she’s only halfway through his Wikipedia page. She wants to wake up in bed so this can just be a dream, and she wants yesterday back, with the soft embrace of his arms.
Time moves on. He’s walking towards the van. His face disappears under the hood of his sweater, and she feels like a paparazzi watching him, his every move.
All at once, he’s a stranger to her.
///
“Why?”
“I��m so sorry, Luna.”
She huffs. The sun hits her directly through the windscreen, yet her cheeks heat up for a whole other reason.
“This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out.”
Her gaze fixates on the view outside, the house fronts and parked cars. It’s motionless, not even a breeze softly ruffling through the palm trees. Inside her, everything seems to be moving and stirring. “And how was I supposed to find out? Never?”
If making him speechless is an accomplishment, it doesn’t feel like one. After seconds or minutes or whatever excruciating amount of silence it equals on the clock, he sighs. “Do you know how hard it is to find someone who doesn’t treat you like some kind of god? You made me feel… when I’m with you, I’m different. Someone…”
“Normal?” Bitterness leaks out of her tone, and it poisons her heart. “That sounds terrible, Matteo. And I’m not going to pity you.”
“Happy,” he replies. “I wanted to say that you made me feel like someone happy.”
You made me feel happy too. Those words don’t cross her lips, though. Instead, she turns on the engine and starts driving. (Away from the place where her heart broke, but not away from him.) Taking a shaky breath, he opens his mouth but before he says anything else, Luna drowns his voice with the first radio station she finds. After two minutes, the host announces one of his songs.
She almost smashes the radio with her fist.
///
All day, she waits for dawn to come, for the darkness to match her mood. An hour into driving, Matteo quietly asks her to stop by one of the beaches to their left. She follows him in a safe distance as he watches the ocean. There’s no smile on his face, just a wrinkle on his forehead. Her phone weighs heavy in her pocket, tempting her to snap a picture of him like all the days before. But she no longer feels like she has the right to take a photo of him, which shouldn’t add to her misery this much.
So, now she’s aching for the night to hide him from her eyes.
///
His eyes flutter open in the darkness. The blanket is tangled between his legs, and he feels some part of Luna bumping into him. His heart clenches at the memory of her silence today, or the looks she sent him. He doesn’t know what he expected, only that he hoped, with a little luck, that she’d stay in his life.
There’s no such faith anymore.
Her touch startles him. Slowly, her fingertips draw patterns on his arm, and Matteo isn’t sure if he’s dreaming. “Luna?” he whispers into the silence.
Her hand stops moving, but it stays frozen where it was, which is everything he needs to hope again. “What are we gonna do?” she finally says.
His heart skips a beat, only to riot harder than ever before in his chest. “I don’t know,” he admits, unsure. “I can’t escape this, you know? People will recognize me wherever I go, whether I like it or not. That’s just a part of my life.”
“So, after this, I’ll never see you again?”
He closes his eyes. Sighs. “Would that be a good thing for you?”
Luna hesitates, he can feel it in her fingertips leaving his skin, in the breath she’s holding. Every second in which she keeps him hanging on to the last thread of hope hurts. All he wants is to pull her back into his arms, back to a time where it was just him and her, and reality got no hold on them. And he feels stupid for believing any of this could have lasted.
“No. It wouldn’t.”
Luna buries her head in his shoulder. A sob pearls over her lips, and out of words, he presses a kiss on her hair. “But I can’t do this,” she adds before she rolls over to her side of the bed and shatters his heart into pieces, just like he must’ve earlier.
When he finds his words again, he whispers “I’m sorry I can’t stay”, but she seems to already be asleep.
///
Este amor ya no es mío
///
He’s watching the van being driven away by one of the employees. The sun is setting behind the rental office, sealing the end of his little run from real life. Turning around, his eyes land on Luna, wo’s holding on to her bags as if her life depended on it.
“So, this is it,” he concludes.
She returns his gaze, and the tears shimmering in them feel like a knife to his chest. “I guess.”
“Maybe we could…”  
“Matteo, no.” It sounds as if he’s torturing her, as if nothing brought her more pain than the mere chance to see him again. (If only he knew how to make her smile again…) “We can’t. You know this wouldn’t work.”
With that, she leaves him.
///
Sé que la vida se pasa pero no pasa contigo
///
The next months bring her a lot of opportunities to cry. His new single that her roommate plays on repeat for hours, unaware that the Luna in his song is the same one yelling at her to use headphones. The music video for said single, where he replaces her with a girl who looks nothing like her. His new album, titled Chico Fresa out of all things, and every song that speaks to her. Every single time her thumb hovers over his contact in her phone, until she remembers why she refuses to see him again.
But she learns to stop asking herself “What if”, to stop torturing herself with daydream after daydream. She learns to ignore his voice on the radio and the gossip on the internet. She learns to sleep alone again and get mad enough at him for his lies and songs and calls to move on with her life.
And then she walks into the skating rink on her birthday to a package with her name scribbled on it, inside brand-new skates in the colors of a sunset, along with a card signed by him.
After that, she can’t pretend anymore that she hates him.
///
No tengo la certeza de volverte a ver
Recuérdame
///
The beach in Cancún hasn’t changed. The palm trees along the way, offering some shadow in the merciless midday sun, the scent of salt and sunscreen in the air. The pathway along the ocean she led him to, with her hand in his, which often enough was the only reason his ass didn’t kiss the ground.
Matteo, however, has changed. He has grown, as a person, as a songwriter. Even as a skater – he doesn’t need anyone’s hand anymore in order to keep his balance.
Still, he keeps thinking about her.
Especially here in Mexico, where a year ago, he kissed her, and she claimed his heart only to walk away with it. He wonders what she’s up to, which skating competition she’s training for right now, and if her studies are going well. If there’s someone else, someone new in her life. Someone who isn’t followed by ecstatic fans and paparazzi.
His mind always stumbles over this idea, sooner or later. Not that it’s any of his business. He just wants her to be happy, that’s all. (Is it wrong if he wants her to be happy with him?) And who can blame him when sometimes, missing her overwhelms him, and he can’t stop thinking about what ifs – what if he gave up his career? What if he insisted on seeing her again just a little bit more?
It’s a dangerous path to walk on, and never a gleeful one. So, every time it gets too much to bear, he goes skating.
It’s a routine by now. Matteo puts on his helmet and sunglasses, then his boots. He never goes fast, simply cruising up and down the beach while painting pictures in his head, of her by his side. He imagines her whirling around in pirouettes, jumping and showing off all the tricks he doesn’t dare to try. He imagines the sun adding a soft shimmer to her hair, and her laugh ringing in his ears as he recites the lyrics of the last song he wrote for her. About her. He imagines that he’ll never has to write another song about the moon, because he gets to tell her everything in person.
Her laugh, again.
First, he wonders how clear his memory makes it sound in his ears. Then, he realizes it’s not just an imagination anymore, because Luna is here, for real, a mere hundred meters away. Wearing his skates.
In that moment he knows he’ll have to write another song for her.
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phoenixrising0308 · 2 years ago
Text
The Promise (Part 6): Stolen Moments (b)
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Books: The Royal Romance
Rating: M (Mature content and implied sexual activities)
Pairing: Liam & Jessica (MC)
The Promise - Series premise: Two signet rings, one engagement ring, and a pearl tell a story of love and responsibility, and ask the question: what does it mean to choose duty over love. Catch up here and check out the story inspiration here.
The Promise is based on my Agent Phoenix A/U is a story in-between. This series was written before the disclosure of Liam’s mother’s name. I have named her Lily.
Detailed disclaimer
Triggers: Suggestive Language 
A/N:   The engagement tour begins
Word count: 1, 900 *As always, forgive my typos and grammatical errors.*
Reading time: 5 minutes.
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Venice Italy
Jessica shaded herself from the sun with one hand as Liam held the other as they walked along the beach.
“Wow, this is really nice.”
“Jess, this is Santa Cristina. This part of the island belongs to the Amici family. Do you know who they are?”
“I mean, the name sounds familiar?” She mumbled.
“The Amici family is a patron of the arts; they have an extensive Art Collection that has been lent out to some of the finest museums across the world. Some in New York, as a matter of fact. But they are known to manufacture some of the most detailed Italian woodworking pieces known on the market. The floor to ceiling bookshelves with all my first editions you admire so much in my personal library, the desk in my study and the furniture in my bedroom were all designed by Franscio himself handcrafted at one of his shops. They also dabble in textiles. As a matter of fact, the red and gold dress Bertrand picked out for you, was designed by one of their senior designers.”
“Wow, how do you know them?”
“Franscio was a childhood friend of my mother’s. Every time we came to Italy, we would visit his villa on the Amalfi coast but we would come here to his beach and play.”
She smiled at him in wonder with an airy chuckle to her voice. “You are the best tour guide known to man.”
Liam smiled back, “I'm glad you feel that way, Love. But this is just a small portion of the trip. Turn around.”  
Jessica raised a brow but obliged as she felt his slick hands trailing down her back and over her shoulders. She almost shivered as his hands went down the small of her back. She looked over her shoulder at him.
“I don't want you to burn.” He gave a whisper in her ear and nibbled her ear lobe. She turned around and took the bottle from his hand.
“Let me return the favor for you. Remember the Royal Regatta?”
Liam bit his lip and said, “How could I forget?”
Jessica ran a hand down his back, earning a shiver from him before she also made sure to spread the sunscreen on his arms and chest.
He scoffed, “Hey, I didn't get to do your front body.”
Jessica chuckled and whispered in his ear, “Maybe later, you can touch me anywhere you want.”
He smirked as they laid out a blanket under an umbrella on the beach. It was completely private.
Jessica was pleasantly surprised to see a cooler waiting with bottled chardonnay, watermelon juice, mozzarella tomato and basil sandwiches, fresh melon wrapped in prosciutto.
“Francisco insisted we make use of his private beach.”
Jessica quirked a brow “He knows about me?”
“He knows of you. He knows how much you mean to me. He also knows who Madeleine is by virtue of Leo’s social season. There is no need to worry. Just enjoy this moment with me.”
Liam popped the cork and poured them both a flute with a splash of watermelon juice. “To us.”
They clinked glasses as they took a sip.
“So, how did you manage to get away?”
“I told Leo that I would love to spend some time with you. He insisted on filling on for me.”
Jessica kissed him sweetly on the lips. The taste of watermelon and chardonnay lingering on their lips. “Remind me to thank him later.”
He hummed against her lips before parting, his eyes gazing down at her tenderly. “ I have more things planned for us.”
They ate and watched the ocean. Seagulls flew overhead as the waves gently rolled onto the shore.
She hummed and glanced over at him, and he continued to stare at the ocean before gazing at her. His blue eyes reflected the light and matched the ocean. He stood up and extended his hand and Jessica took it.
“Where are we heading to now?”
He smirked, “you'll see, love”
She allowed him to lead her across the white sandy shore. Ocean waves gently rolled across their feet as footprints trailed behind them. Jessica made the mental note of seeing his skin glow under the sunlight, the coconut and shea butter scent of the sunscreen, the cooling waves mixed with the hot sand on her feet, the way his golden hair reflected the light. She admired the moment as they walked together in silence.
He led her down the shoreline and had her follow him to the rocks. The waves crashed against them, but he led her further until there was calmness near an opening in a cave.
“Have you ever been inside?”
Liam shrugged, “A few times. Would you like to go?”
“Yes.”
“Tonight, when the tide is lower, it would be safe for us to go.” He hinted and invited her all at once.
Interest shined in her eyes. “How will I know?”
“The Cordonian Waltz. Find me on the dance floor. For now, let's just feel the sun on our faces and the sand in our toes; shall we?”
That Night…
Venice Italy, Dining Hall...
Jessica and Liam both had to play coy and distant for appearances but it was near impossible. Liam kept snagging glances at Jessica while she did the same. He greatly anticipated tonight, his plans of snagging her away heavy on his mind as well as the news he had for her.
After many fruitless cordial dances and conversations, he was finally free to see her. Jessica sat at a table, her designer dress shimmered every other stitch in the lighting. Her eyes lit up as she saw him approach but her face stayed neutral. It had to.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
She smirked, “Yes, what a coincidence.”
He chuckled that sexy, dark chuckle that made every fiber of her body ache for him as he eyed her up and down.
“You look beautiful, love.” He whispered low for only her to hear.
“You look as handsome as ever.” She replied.
He spotted a familiar face and grinned.
He led Jessica, “I want you to meet someone.”
Jessica followed as a middle-aged man with an Italian accent looked at Liam fondly. “Liam, amico mio! (my friend). How have you been? Valentina is excited to see you. She is somewhere around here.” The man greeted Liam warmly as Liam smiled fondly at him.
“Francisco, I want you to meet Mia tesoro più amato Jessica (my most beloved treasure).”
Francisco grinned at him before smiling at Jessica who smiled at the man. He boasted, “So, this is thee Jessica?”
Francisco chuckled before leaning in to kiss both Jessica's cheeks. “Nice to finally meet you, Bella (Beautiful).”
“It's a pleasure to meet you too. I love the last name. It's so meaningful and certainly very fitting. Considering your long history with Liam’s mother and your generosity.”
“Yes, I've watched Liam grow up from this small child looking for treasure on my beach to this strong man before for you now. His mother was one of my dearest friends. He is welcome to make my beach and any home I own; his.”
Jessica gave Liam a smile then said “ Il più grande dono della vita è l'amicizia.” (the greatest gift in life is friendship)
“Bella, you speak Italian?”
Jessica smiled, "così-così. L'ho studiato all'università.  Lo parlo raramente.  Mi sono esercitato con un amica Un amica mi ha insegnato qualche parola. (so-so, I learned in college. I rarely speak it but I have recently started practicing with a friend. It's such a beautiful language. Hopefully I will have more opportunities to speak it."
“That it is. I am sure you will.”
Jessica said, “Liam, has told me about you and the work your family does.”
He smiled proudly, “Yes, you will never find finer craftsmanship than the blood, sweat, tears, and skill that is the Amici Family name.”
“Liam has such an extensive collection of first editions. I love his library but the bookshelves are stunning pieces. The carvings are so intricate I was instantly drawn to them. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“You flatter me.” Francisco smiled.
A woman with olive skin and long brown hair approached and said, “That dress. I saw it from across the room and just had to tell you myself how beautiful it looks on you and the color. You wear it so well.”
Francisco smiled and put his arm around the woman and kissed her sweetly. “Cara mia (my darling), this is Jessica. Jessica, this is my wife Valentina.”
“Is a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for the lovely compliment. But I should really be complimenting you on designing such a beautiful dress.”
Valentine gave Jessica a glowing smile. “Thank you. I like to design under my maiden name Marrone."
A song that felt more romantic than usual was orchestrated. It was a traditional song, The Cordonian Waltz.
Francisco looked at Liam, "What are you waiting for? Go dance with this woman." He said low with a wink and subtly shoved at Liam, slipping something in the pocket of his suit.
Liam felt the item and nodded as he took Jessica's hand to lead her out to the dance floor.
"Fancy seeing you here.”
“This was completely unplanned.” She smiled at the facade they had to use in public. "
Liam let out a charming laugh, “I'm really impressed. I had no idea you spoke Italian. You never cease to amaze me.”
“Well, I tested out of Spanish in college. My father pushed me to learn another language since I still needed the credits. We made all these plans for travel adventures and Italy was a stop. When I heard we would end up in Italy, I started practicing with Hana. After today's convo I did some homework.”
“You are such a quick study and you take an interest in everything I say."
"You will always be my greatest adventure. When you're in love with someone, what's important to them becomes important to you."
He whispered in her ear "Sei l'amore della mia vita." (You are the love of my life.)
Jessica gave him a warm smile and said, "Siamo fatti l'uno all'altra" (we were made for each other.)"
As far as anyone was concerned, Jessica was just a friend he was sharing a waltz with.
Liam led the dance as Jessica followed. Box step, reverse, spin, then a twirl. Jessica didn't fumble even once, months of practice with Maxwell and her own skills making her light as air on the dance floor.
Liam put a bit of pressure on her hand in his, just a minor squeeze to get her attention. He whispered, "This used to only be a series of steps, but now, it means so much more to me to share it with you."
Jessica gilded with him, thankful the event was large enough to be unnoticed by most of its guests.  She whispered back, "Then let it always mean something to us. Forever. It's almost like a secret handshake for only us to know."
Liam gazed down at her, leaning in close to whisper, "Voglio baciarti al chiaro di luna (I want to kiss you by the light if the moon)
Jessica gave a soft whisper, "Sto morendo voglio sentire le tue labbra sulle mie." (I'm dying to feel your lips on mine."
"When I twirl you, exit to the left. Francisco's SUV is right outside."
Jessica's eyes widened in understanding as they expertly box stepped closer to the door. With the twirl, she went left with Liam soon following her. Jessica's adrenaline pumped as they hastily escaped the ballroom to go outside and rush to the SUV.
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cicinicole-14 · 7 years ago
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14x19–– Beautiful Dreamer [episode review]
can we talk about Grey’s here for a second? I’m gonna review this episode because it’s been a really great episode. I think one of the best we’ve seen in a long time. so lets start off with saying this: I am sorry for how unorganized and choppy this is going to be, I’m apologizing in advance but my brain is going a million miles an hour. ALSO. WARNING::: SPOILERS AHEAD!!! 🚨🚨
first off–– Richard and Ollie
this was so, so sad. this gave me Amelia and Michelle, on PP, parallel feels, how Ollie is much like Amelia’s best friend Michelle and Amelia and Richard both watched their friend die a slow death. I really think and hope this is going to bring Amelia and Richard closer as friends and support systems. this storyline (Richard and Ollie) was very real, heartbreaking and sad. I really liked it even though it was rough.
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Arizona
two things here, first; Carina. I just. I don’t like her. it’s half “she’s never going to be callie” and half idk I just don’t like her character. she’s useless and just no. I really don’t like her. and I would really like for her to go back to Italy. like Arizona said, her study there is almost up… also, the comment at the beginning of the ep “I have no kids, thank god” like okay, I get that people don’t always like kids but coming from Arizona, someone who broke up with her girlfriend over children, this just made my heart swell. like carina you don’t say that to the person you’re with if they fucking have kids. thats like almost as close as basic human decency as we get here…and second; Arizona’s idea of the crash cart thing, that was amazing. seriously. “treat every delivery as a trauma” I can’t clap loud enough. this is amazing. I’m so glad she figured something out and she can stop stressing just a little bit. take a breather babes, you’re awesome, you’re a rockstar. [also, another note; I really am dreading JCap leaving and this is sad af, because we only have like what 3 episodes remaining?]
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Bello and Deluca
I actually have a lot to say about this and this is where its going to get very unorganized. I love that they’re incorporating real life like this, fucking neurosurgeons in the making, who have been living here their whole lives, facing deportation to a country they don’t know just because of our terrible choice in leaders. I can talk a while about this but I’m not going to. I thoroughly enjoyed Bailey stalling the ICE agent [we will address this later] and how literally the whole hospital was banning together to help Bello out. I genuinely like her and I’m really sad to see her leaving. I loved all the scenarios of running, getting married, Jo telling her how to fake her death with a guy in New York, I actually laughed so hard. like this was so great. this whole storyline. and then when amelia asks Owen to call Megan to help out because her “favorite intern” is going to get deported for rUNNING A FUCKING RED LIGHT. A RED LIGHT PEOPLE. we can’t even put rapists in jail, and you’re exiling an innocent fucking surgeon to a country they spent barely a year in when they were born, because she ran a red fucking light? okay moving on, coco. I loved that amelia said that, it was really cute. and like then Meredith using one of Maggie’s old papers [im assuming] and telling her Sam got accepted in Zurich and is working with Cristina. that was actually so sweet and I can’t. and then poor Andrew. I really loved them as a couple. they are really sweet and I wish we got to know more about their story, but sadly we won’t since Bello left. their goodbye was so adorable and bitter sweet. I hope she comes back one day or Deluca leaves to go be with her, he deserves happiness and an actual storyline like this because Giancomo is kinda getting screwed with Deluca’s character here.
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Jaggie…
as @jordan202​ said last week, “jaggie is gaggie” and literally, yes. I was really excited to see Maggie ignoring him, because Jackson can be kinda dickish and like he should’ve told her April kissed him. if you want a relationship to work, be honest. and Jackson should’ve told her from the beginning. now to be honest with you, I skipped every jaggie scene, and caught the little bit at the end. I did want to point out, while I do not support Jaggie at all whatsoever, I find it very sweet Maggie showed up and made the speech and stood up for herself about not telling her because she said Jackson didn’t think he could handle it. go Maggie. and then I gagged again and skipped the scene that followed that… gross.
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the interns
okay I love love loveeeee seeing Jo be the chief resident [I mean not like there can be any other chief resident because lets see, mousey died, Stephanie left, ben became a firefighter and where the fuck did Leah disappear to?] anyway, I love seeing Jo be the chief res and then bringing the interns around for rounds and no one letting them into rooms for rounds, that was actually quite funny.
Matthew and Ruby
okay, so I feel bad for Arizona because this was her case, but I empathize with Matthew, and he’s hurting and this is a lot. and I’m glad Owen could be put on this case, tho really fucking weird since he worked as a trauma surgeon in the army I didn’t peg him for a peds stand in, but I know this was just a little veer in his path for his storyline [which we will talk about as well] and I’m really grateful for April here. I know that everyone kinda looked weird at her for leering around Matthew and yeah I get it its weird, but her mother’s intuition was calling, and hey, guess what, it was fucking right. I’m really glad she was able to help and the end scene with her and Matthew was really sweet. it was full circle for them and I really enjoyed that.
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lets go with the ICE agent next, and Bailey.
so I thoroughly enjoy that Bailey was at first just trying to stall him as long as possible. great tactic. and then her instincts kicked in and she pretty much saved this man’s life. I think that was really cool. and the scene with Maggie telling Bailey that she’d run all the tests, and then Bailey actually being serious about it. this was really nice. Bailey was being sincere to this man, she was serious because this guy, who is trying to take her intern, she could’ve easily just ignored his symptoms. but she didn’t and telling him, jfc that was great. “I swear to god this isn’t a joke” or whatever. bailey’s being serious, might I even say as serious as a heart attack… [okay, okay, I know, terrible joke I am sorry] anyway, this was really sweet that even though she deemed him as the enemy, she stilled helped save his life because its her job, just like, while he hates it, being an ICE agent is his job.
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um what’s next? ou, Catherine.
can I start out saying I’ve never liked her? she’s always fucking shady and untrusting. seriously. and first off, do not go blaming your fucking son for this issue with the neurosurgeon lady. this is your fault. your “oh its nothing” thing with harper Avery and this lady. well yeah, we’re gonna think its nothing if you say it like that, of course Jackson won’t think anything of it and try and fucking fix things, there’s a child’s life at stake. if you weren’t such a shady bitch and were honest with Jackson, y’all won’t be getting into this mess, whatever the fuck it may be. ugh I do not like Catherine at all. Richard deserves better.
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um, who else… Owen okay Owen.
so, I am still logically confused why Owen was placed on ruby Taylor’s case… like I mentioned before, he’s trauma not peds, but whatever, I guess if a hospital can have a bomb, shooting, 2 plane crashes, a fire and a billion other things happen, I guess a trauma surgeon can double as a peds one for a day. now, onto why. I’m really actually genuinely excited for Owen to take this step into singlehood and hopefully soon-to-be single fatherhood. I’ve been saying this forever, but give the man a child. he’s very similar to Alex in a way, he doesn’t act very decent with other adults, but in front of children, he’s an angel and its what he really needs. I can’t wait to see what comes of this storyline!
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KIMMIE!
okay, wow! this breaks my heart. part of me is like “yes! go to NYC, go sing on broadway, explore the world while you still have the chance” and the other half of me just screams “stay strong just a little longer and stay at GSM for Alex and amelia to fix you, because I know they can”. Alex and kimmie’s dynamic is so sweet and their relationship just kinda melts me [and jo, but we will talk about that next!] I really hope this isnt the end of kimmie’s story. I hope she’s not going to just leave. side note: where did Tom go? is he back in New York? did he go back and I forget? anyway, whatever.
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last but not least, the best, jolex.
okay, we got literally the sweetest scene I’ve ever fucking seen. I think I like this more than the proposal. actually, this and the 9x24 “I love you” scene are tied for first because ofc, that was my fave but also this one was. Jo telling Alex that she wants kids with him and wants to wedding plan and get married at joe’s bar and soon and ugh I cannot. and then her telling him she wants his last name because “I’ve never had the last name of anyone who’s loved me before” okay get out. bye. I’m dead. spoiler alert: I’ve been typing this from beyond the grave. this scene fucking melted me into a pile of goo. I cannot. bye!
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bonus! 14x20 promo! 
I AM FUCKING DEAD. I CANNOT WAIT FOR THIS EPISODE. ABSOLUTELY CANNOT FUCKING WAIT. this looks so goddamn fucking hilarious I literally almost started crying. first of all, Arizona being the innocent lil bean to unknowingly give everyone pot cookies, I’m in tears. then, Alex wearing the fucking whatever that was on his head and “oh yeah, it was so good” pissing myself. also, fuck, was that deluca hugging a bush?!? and Bailey professing her love to Meredith. I can’t I can’t. seriously, I have high expectations for this episode, and I hope it doesn’t disappoint.
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end note: no gifs are mine and I’m sorry for not crediting artists, I just pulled these off google. thank you for letting me borrow your work.
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cristinablackthornkingson · 7 years ago
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Shadowhunters Short Story #13.
“What do you think? Is it ready?” Aline softly asks her wife, slipping her arm around Helen’s waist as they look around the small and newly decorated room in their home in Wrangle Island. In the far corner, under the window is a crib with white sheets and a few stuffed toys. Engraved in the headboard of the crib are the family symbols of Blackthorn and Pennhallow. Next to the crib is a beautiful oak changing stations with soft white padding. Beside that is an old fashioned rocking chair with a few blankets on the back of the chair and two cushions on the seat. There was a chest of draws pushed up against the teal blue wall, next to the door, with a framed photograph of Helen and Aline on their wedding day, on top. The chest of drawers was full of tiny outfits, socks, hats, blankets and cloths. The walls were adorned with pictures of Helen and Aline’s family and brightly colored paintings that once hung in Tavvy’s nursery. Everything was perfect. 
“It’s absolutely perfect, and will be even more so once she arrives.” Helen says, her tone full of joy, as she leans into her wife. 
Two years ago, Helen and Aline decided that they wanted to grow their family and become parents. They had thought about it for a while before deciding on adoption. They faced a lot of discrimination for being a gay couple and there was many days and nights spent weeping and sobbing after being rejected or discriminated against, there were a few times were they almost threw in the towel and accepted they were never going to be parents. But just as they were officially about to give up, they met a young expectant mother named Francesca, she was a Shadowhunter in her early 20s who was born and raised in Italy, when she turned 18 she decided to travel to different institutes to train, she was in Spain first for a few years, then Russia, then Thailand and most recently New York where Helen and Aline had met her while visiting Magnus and Alec. Francesca had gotten pregnant as a result of a failed relationship. She was not ready to be a mother, she was still so young and not ready to settle down and raise a baby, so she decided to place the baby for adoption. When she met Helen and Aline the three of them just clicked and became very close. It didn’t take long for her to choose them as her baby’s parents. Helen and Aline had wept with joy and couldn’t thank her enough. A month later they announced the news to their family and friends who were thrilled for them. The three women soon settled on an open adoption, where Francesca would receive letters containing pictures and information about the baby and would be welcome to see her at any time. At Francesca's request, the baby would grow up calling her ‘Aunt Francesca, but they also all decided that the baby would know she was adopted from the get go, they would be extremely open and honest about it with her.
Now Francesca was 9 months pregnant and due any day. Helen and Aline had been given permission by Jia to return to New York for the birth of their child. The Cold Peace was still in place but not as harshly as before, there were a lot of people working on lifting Helen and Aline’s exile and they were becoming very close to doing so. 
Two days later just as Helen and Aline are about to go to bed, they receive a fire letter from Francesca telling them she was in labor and they need to come to New York soon because the baby is coming very fast. Francesca had decided to deliver the baby in the infirmary of the New York Institute with a Clave midwife delivering the baby. 
Helen and Aline spent a good ten minutes rushing around, getting dressed, finding bags, doing last minute packing, etc. By the time they stepped through the portal Catarina had created for them, their daughter had already been born. Catarina- who had been helping out with the birth- guided them into the room where Francesca and the baby were. 
Francesca was sitting up in bed, supported by a pile of pillows, her dark hair damp with sweat was drawn up into a bun on the top of her head, but most noticeable was the little bundle of blankets in her arms with tufts of dark brown hair. 
Helen grabs her wife’s hand as she sees her daughter for the first time, tears of joy welling up in her eyes. She itched to hold her but didn’t want to intrude on Francesca's few moments with her.
Sensing their presence, the younger girl looks up and smiles tiredly at them.
“Oh we don’t want to interrupt, we can come back later if you’d like some more time with her.” Helen hurriedly says, tripping over herself to not offend Francesca in anyway, in fear of her changing her mind about the adoption, since it wouldn’t be official for another few days. Francesca shakes her head and quietly says 
“No, it’s alright, I’ve had my time with her and now it’s yours, don’t feel obligated to stay with me, go somewhere private and bond with her.” She gently lowers the baby into Aline’s outstretched arms, before lowering herself onto her side, her back facing the new family, clearly she wanted to be alone. So Helen and Aline took their daughter into one of the spare rooms and sat on the edge of the bed, just gazing at her for a while. 
“She is so perfect.” Helen softly says, tears of joy rolling down her face. She could hardly believe this little one was hers, that she would get to raise her and love her and teach her everything she knows, to be her mama. 
“That she is.” Aline quietly says, kissing the baby’s little hand that was curled around her finger. 
“I love you.” Helen says, leaning in and kissing her beautiful wife. 
“I love you too.” Aline gently says, softly brushing a lock of Helen’s blonde hair behind her ear. 
After a few hours of cuddling with their daughter and basking in their new found joy, they decide to introduce their little girl to her aunts and uncles. They had chosen the baby’s godparent’s from their families, they had originally asked Ty to be her godfather but he couldn't understand why they were going to give her godparents when Shadowhunters believe in not just one religion but them all, and so he declined. So they asked Aline’s father Patrick, who was delighted to be asked, and they also asked Mark, who was extremely touched by the offer and immediately accepted. They had asked Dru to be the baby’s godmother and she was only too happy to accept, she was so excited to become an aunt and no doubt would be a wonderful help with her niece. 
It takes 20 minutes to gather everyone (Meaning Julian, Emma, Ty, Kit, Dru, Tavvy, Mark, Cristina, Kieran and Diana) but once they do, everyone is eager to meet the newest addition and hear her name. Helen and Aline had kept their baby’s name a secret the entire pregnancy, the wanted to introduce her to her family by announcing her name. 
Sitting on the sofa beside Ty, with Aline beside her and Kit beside Ty, Helen proudly introduces her daughter. 
“Everyone, this is Arabella Livia Blackthorn-Pennhallow.” Everyone is silent following the announcement, unsure of how to react to little Arabella having her deceased aunt’s name as a middle name. Helen (and everyone else) still missed Livvy terribly, her heart still ached for her and she would give anything to have her back. She felt it was the right thing to do, honoring her sister by naming her daughter after her, Livvy would be so happy and would adore her niece, she would have been a wonderful aunt. 
“Ty, we want you to hold her first.” Helen gently says, turning to her little brother. It really didn’t seem long ago that he was as small as Arabella. Helen had prepared for an argument with her brother, she had expected him to reject the baby and refuse to hold her. But instead he wordlessly holds his arms out for the baby. Helen places the baby in his arms and help’s him support her head, before sitting back and watching him interact with her. Little Arabella was reaching up to tug on the wire of her uncle’s headphones around his neck, but luckily she wasn’t able to grasp them yet. Instead she settles for reaching up and patting Ty’s face. Helen expected Ty to get annoyed and flustered and hand Arabella back, and although her patting did seem to bother him, he didn’t try and hand her back or make her stop. 
“I think Livvy would really have loved her.” Ty quietly says, his dark head still bent down as he looked at his niece. Smiling softly at her little brother, Helen gently says  “I think so too Ty, that’s we named her Arabella Livia.” 
“I miss her.” Ty quietly says. Livvy’s death had been the hardest on her twin brother, if Ty didn’t have Kit, Helen wasn’t sure he’d have been okay after Livvy died. Kit was an amazing friend (or perhaps more judging on their behavior recently) for Ty, who he could lean on and get support from. 
“Me too bud, me too.” Helen softly says, gently squeezing her baby brother’s hand. 
Things would never be the same without Livvy, everyone would always miss her beyond words, her death would always have a massive impact on the Blackthorn family. It had been two years since she passed and now little Arabella was here perhaps everyone could learn to love again and hope again, and move on with their lives, just as Livia would have wanted. 
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itsfinancethings · 4 years ago
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Patients lie motionless in a hospital ICU ward, as doctors hurry around their beds. The patients’ faces are concealed by ventilators; the doctors’ by masks. The death rate is rising so quickly that doctors can no longer keep count. “The beds don’t even have time to cool before they are taken up by other patients,” says ICU nurse Cristina Pilati. Yet over the sound of stretchers rolling and monitors beeping, Pilati starts singing the lyrics of ‘Angel’ as she cares for a teenage boy in the ICU. ‘Spend all your time waiting, for that second chance,’ she sings. ‘For a break that would make it okay.’
This scene is one of many intimate moments in Inside Italy’s COVID War, a PBS’ FRONTLINE documentary premiering Tuesday that takes us inside a hard-hit hospital in Cremona, a city in northern Italy. Directed by Emmy and BAFTA award-winning filmmaker Sasha Joelle Achilli, who was born and raised in Milan, the film offers one of the first in-depth looks at a hospital battling coronavirus when the crisis hit. Achilli spent several months in West Africa documenting the 2014-2015 Ebola outbreak, but filming the coronavirus pandemic in her native country, where her family still lives, presented new difficulties. “Emotionally, it was really challenging. It feels so much more personal,” she says. “But I feel really privileged that I was able to do that and get more of an understanding of this virus. When you understand something, you are less afraid of it.”
Achilli’s film follows emergency room doctor Francesca Mangiatordi as she navigates COVID-19, caring for her staff, her patients, and her family. Achilli, who now lives in London but traveled to Italy for filming, began shooting in Cremona on March 18, just one day before Italy’s death toll surpassed that of China, becoming the hardest hit country by COVID-19 at the time. More than 32,000 people have died from COVID-19 since the start of the country’s outbreak.
Keep up to date with our daily coronavirus newsletter by clicking here.
Italy’s health care system, the first to be hit hard in Europe, was quickly overwhelmed by the surge in cases. In the opening scenes of the documentary, doctors debate whether to give their remaining ventilator to a young or old person. Later in the film, doctors themselves fall ill, remaining quarantined in their homes as case numbers continue to rise throughout the country. The documentary also sheds light on the sacrifices frontline workers are making and the risks they are taking: Mangiatordi’s husband was at higher risk of catching the virus but she stayed working on the front line.
Perhaps what is most powerful yet unsettling about the documentary is that it disrupts one of the prominent narratives surrounding COVID-19: that the young and healthy won’t be severely affected. While young people are less likely to die of COVID-19, they are still susceptible to severe infection of the virus. The documentary follows an 18-year-old boy and a 30-year-old mother of three girls as they fight for their lives. “The next one that tells me it only affects the elderly, I’ll spit in their eye,” Mangiatordi says after a 42 year-old man died of COVID-19.
Achilli was inspired to make the documentary after coming across a photograph Mangiatordi took of an exhausted nurse, Elena Pagliarini, collapsed on her keyboard in early March. Within hours of seeing the photograph, the two women spoke on the phone. Days later, Achilli was filming at the hospital.
Francesca Mangiatordi An exhausted medical worker lays on keyboard. The photograph, taken by Francesca Mangiatordi, inspired Sasha Joelle Achilli to make the documentary Inside Italy’s COVID War.
Achilli spoke with TIME about the making of the film. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Your documentary is the most in-depth and intimate picture of a hospital battling COVID-19 we have so far. What do you hope people take away from it?
My goal has changed from when I first went to Italy. When I first went out, the borders in Europe were closing but the crisis hadn’t erupted yet. Back then, the message was “Italy is 3 weeks ahead of you.” But now we’re all in it. What I want people to get out of this documentary is an understanding of the virus. I want to squash all the conspiracy theories and for people to understand the emotional and psychological impact it has had on health care workers and those severely affected. I want people to realize that while there is no need to panic, there is a severity to this and we need to take the measures seriously. Italy is now coming out of it, hopefully. The cases have gone down massively. And it’s because of the lockdown and the measures that were taken that this is possible. That’s what I hope people get out of it. Especially American audiences, given the protests that are taking place. This is very real.
Because Italy was the first Western country to face a COVID-19 outbreak, many other nations in the West have looked at Italy to predict what the futures of their countries might look like. As someone who watched the outbreak unfold, what do you think the world can learn from Italy’s experience?
The world needed to look at Italy at the beginning. Now, the world is currently living it. Rather than critiquing the Italian draconian measures or the Italian culture of siesta, they should have taken them seriously and not thrown around the idea of herd immunity. If there is a country forcing people to stay home in this way, it means it’s serious. But until you see that every family has been affected by the virus or lost someone to it, until your morgues are completely full and coffins cannot be buried in time—until you see that, people’s behavior will not change.
These kinds of outbreaks are going to keep happening. We need to stop thinking of places as being far away. We are all so connected and way more connected than we like to believe. So when this started to happen in Italy, Europe should have started locking down before it got out of control. The U.S. should have taken it seriously. No one is immune to it.
What are the underreported stories of this crisis?
There was a point where 13% of cases in March in Italy were healthcare workers. Of course healthcare workers did have more access to tests so more of them were getting tested. But the numbers were still high.
I remember having this debate with Francesca and her husband: why did so many of the staff get sick? Part of it is a lack of disinfectant. The ER was never disinfected until three or four weeks into the outbreak. There was no methodology put in place. The hospital isn’t a structure that facilitates infectious disease triage. It’s hard to criticize an entity or a body or blame someone for all these cases in healthcare workers but we need to have structures that can handle highly infectious diseases.
As an Italian journalist who has reported on crises in Africa and the Middle East, what was it like reporting on the front lines of your own country?
Emotionally, it was really challenging. A lot of the stories I’ve done are really, really sad situations that do affect me emotionally. But there is something different about it when you’re covering it in your own country. It feels so much more personal. You know the culture, the language, the shared way of communicating without needing to speak. It just felt so much more personal and at the beginning, so emotionally exhausting in a way that I had not experienced in my career despite working on emotionally trying stories.
I think for me, the worst part was when I landed in Rome and I hadn’t been home since Christmas. I flew in and it was completely empty. It felt like something out of an apocalypse film, where cities are abandoned and people have left. I remember getting to the hotel. I called my boyfriend and just burst into tears because the lockdown hadn’t happened in London yet. Even though I had heard the stories through my family, seeing it and seeing your country—especially Italy which is so lively, where people hug and kiss all the time—to see it so completely empty and with the human interaction completely gone. It just wasn’t Italy. It wasn’t my country. It sounds absurd but that was a huge emotional trigger, almost more than going into a COVID hospital. Because there, I had prepared myself for what I would see. But I hadn’t prepared myself for Rome.
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Arianna PaganiA patient lies in the intensive care unit at the Cremona Hospital in Northern Italy.
What was the highlight of the filming experience and what was the most challenging?
The highlight was the life I had with Francesca [Mangiatordi, the ER doctor in the documentary]. She opened her doors to me, completely and entirely. I was living her work life and then going home with her family. It was meeting her and her family and building that relationship as well as with the other nurses. I spoke with Cristina [one of the ICU nurses] the other day and she said “you were part of the family, you lived it with us. You are one of us.” Another highlight was being able to be part of such a big and important story in Italy and having that unique experience of living it on the frontlines with the healthcare workers. I feel really privileged that I was able to do that and get more of an understanding of this virus. When you understand something, you are less afraid of it.
The hardest thing as a journalist reporting on your country is that you become really protective of certain parts of the culture, of the way that people are and of the story you are trying to tell. You are an insider. It’s hard to take a step back and look at it in the same way that you look at other places. I’ve realized it’s a very different kind of storytelling when you know the language and you aren’t an outsider. It was really easy for me to get the level of intimacy that I got. I don’t think that would have been possible in other parts of the world. There’s a beauty about just looking around you and trying to tell the stories that are equally as important—the stories that are next door rather than elsewhere. It was really beautiful and it kind of brought me closer to Italy.
Both you and Francesca Mangiatordi are women working on the frontlines of this pandemic in what can often be quite male-dominated environments. In your experience, how does gender shape what it means to be a frontline worker?
Personally, I’ve often benefited from being a woman. We often have an ability to build better access and relationships with people, especially when it comes to women and children. Women are more likely to open up to women.
I didn’t set out to find a female doctor. I found her through a photo she had taken. And then she sent me her video diaries and I realized that she was incredible. Going to Italy, which can be really misogynistic, I thought I would just find a bunch of old, grumpy Italian men. But instead, I found this hospital filled with feisty young women—and men as well. It was women doing the hard work. There were groups of women transferring bodies on the frontlines of this battle.
I don’t mean to sound cheesy but this group of women on the frontlines—they are carers, they are multitaskers, they can deal with dramatic situations but also be very empathetic and present. That’s what made this group of women so incredible in fighting COVID.
I remember one night at the end of my time there, it was about 3 a.m. and the doctors had pizzas delivered. These doctors and nurses all sat down and started recounting what had happened in the past two months. It was like group therapy. That’s the bond they’ve been able to create with each other. Now, they are helping each other process by reflecting and analyzing it. They are this incredible unit. I think in a way, women often have that ability to talk to each other. We can talk about emotions. And that’s what made these women so strong.
You reported on the Ebola outbreak in West Africa back in 2015, producing the documentary Outbreak that explores the mismanagement of the crisis by both state and international authorities. Do you see similarities between the Ebola epidemic and the current COVID-19 pandemic? And what feels different about this outbreak?
What feels similar is that when it started in China, people thought it was far away. They probably remembered SARS which never really went beyond Asia. Even in talking to doctors like Francesca, they say that when they heard about COVID-19 on the news, they never thought it was going to come to Italy. And that’s exactly what happened in West Africa. There was an outbreak and when it was reported on, people said it was never going to get to the West. It was only when an American doctor got ill that people started paying attention.
The differences are mostly related to how unpredictable this virus is compared to Ebola. Even though Ebola is scarier, I felt like I had more control over not getting it. But with coronavirus, you just don’t know how it’s going to affect you. This is what makes COVID-19 more terrifying and uncontrollable. It’s also not like Ebola where people were hemorrhaging from their eyes. Or in West Africa where you would see people dying out on the street. That’s visually not what we see from COVID-19. That’s made it easy for people to dismiss.
At the beginning, it was the elderly that were highly affected by it. It’s cynical to say but seeing an elderly person unwell is a more acceptable image to many people than a young person. All these factors didn’t help us take the whole thing seriously. I remember a friend of mine in Milan sent me a message saying, “Sasha, I’m not seeing these really dramatic images coming out of hospitals.” People in Italy were questioning the severity of it because they weren’t seeing the drama.
Outbreak warns that the world is not safe from future epidemics. What did it feel like to watch an even bigger outbreak unfold five years after extensively reporting on Ebola?
I think when it started out in China, I was like everyone else. I thought it wouldn’t come here. I was supposed to go on a six months sabbatical traveling with my boyfriend in April. And when COVID-19 reached Italy, naively—even though I was emotionally really affected by what was going on—the borders of the world hadn’t closed yet. Naively, we just thought, we won’t go through Italy and Iran. If I’m being brutally honest here, even having reported on an outbreak in West Africa, it didn’t prepare me for this.
Inside Italy’s COVID War premieres on FRONTLINE (PBS) & begins streaming on YouTube on Tuesday, May 19 at 10 p.m. EST and will be available on pbs.org/frontline at 7 p.m. EST.
Please send any tips, leads, and stories to [email protected]
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johnnymundano · 5 years ago
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The Killer Must Kill Again (1975) (AKA L'assassino è costretto ad uccidere ancora, The Dark is Death’s Friend, The Spider)
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Directed by Luigi Cozzi
Screenplay by Luigi Cozzi and Daniele Del Giudice
Story by Luigi Cozzi and Daniele Del Giudice
Dialogue by Adriano Bolzoni
Based on the novel Al mare con la ragazza by Giorgio Scerbanenco.
Music by Nando De Luca
Country: Italy, France
Running Time: 86 minutes
CAST
George Hilton (Jorge Hill Acosta y Lara) as Giorgio Mainardi
Antoine Saint-John as The Killer Who Must Kill Again
Cristina Galbó as Laura
Alessio Orano as Luca
Femi Benussi as The Unfortunate ‘70s Blonde Stereotype
Eduardo Fajardo as The Inspector
Tere Velázquez as Norma Mainardi
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The Killer Must Kill Again is a not exactly thrilling giallo in which a botched murder plot ruins a young couple’s romantic antics. There’s a bit more to it than that, but not much more. Lumped in with giallo by finer minds than mine, The Killer Must Kill Again lacks pretty much all of the defining characteristics of a giallo apart from sleaziness, murder and, uh, George Hilton. It’s either a crime thriller with an excess of unpleasantness or a very weak giallo. The strongest case for it being a giallo is the lurid yellow interior décor of the main couple Giorgio and Norma Mainardi; an architectural  symphony in custard.
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As well as having frightful taste, Giorgio (George Hilton) and Norma (Tere Velázquez) squabble from the moment the movie starts; Norma has the money and Giorgio has the affairs but Norma’s had enough of his alleycatting, so she’s cutting Giorgio’s cash flow off. Giorgio petulantly strops off to see one of his lady friends, unfortunately she is out when he phones. Giorgio’s cogs start whirring when he spies a killer (Antoine Saint-John) dumping a body in a river. Despite Giorgio being stood in full view in a fully lit phone booth in the black of night-time the killer does not notice him. Ignoring this indicator of the killer’s efficiency Giorgio strikes up a deal; if the killer kills the missus for cash Giorgio will keep schtumm. After all, how can the two be connected? The perfect crime! Soon Norma is in the killer’s trunk, but the killer’s car is stolen by a young couple, Luca and Laura (Alessio Orano and Cristina Galbó) as a prank. The thrill-killer pursues the thrill-seekers while Giorgio tries to avoid The Inspector (Eduardo Fajardo) figuring things out, despite the fact Giorgio himself has no idea what the hell is going on.  
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This is not a bad plot; there’s plenty of scope for suspense, unfortunately The Killer Must Kill Again is too erratic to fulfil the promise of its premise. Cozzi flawlessly displays a kind of anti-skill when it comes to pacing and suspense. The pacing fares worst with far too much of the runtime engaged in the killer trundling impotently in the wake of the two kids. These two seem be accompanied by a soundtrack from a 1970s hairspray advert and a complete lack of common sense.  Luca is almost too horny to function in polite society and Laura is just irritating and whiny; ideally we should spend as little time as possible with these two charmers, but…we don’t. Luckily for Cozzi, Antoine Saint-John is good value as the killer, blessed as he is with a face that lends itself to the part. Giallo regular George Hilton basically answers the phone a lot and displays all the emotion of someone wondering if they let the cat out that morning. Which means either “Giorgio” is a good actor, or George is a bad actor; if you see what I mean. Eduardo Fajardo as The Inspector has to fill his time mostly by sitting in front of a map, asking Giorgio if the kidnappers have called and preparing a ransom no one has called for. I don’t know what movie The Inspector thinks he’s in, but apparently he was told it involved a ransom and by God he’ll get that ransom. He was probably also hoping his movie would have a better sense of pacing. I know I was. As for suspense, there is some; but it feels accidental. Still, beggars can’t be choosers and the bit in the beach house is quite taut. And I could have done without the sledgehammer subtlety of editing the rape and the consensual sex act together. I mean, could it be any more on the nose? No.
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However, partially in it’s defence, the copy I watched was dubbed (which I hate; subtitles 4ever) and looked like it was being viewed through a thin film of mud. Neither of which are the movie’s fault. Maybe subtitles and a crisper print might ameliorate some of the tedium. And, frankly, I think the budget for The Killer Must Kill Again was a bit sparse. Actually, it’s obvious the production was a bit cash-strapped. There is fantastic bit of filmic frugality at a toll booth when the image freezes on a longshot, irises in on a tiny car next to a booth, and an unconvincing voiceover runs: “Have you seen two young people in a car?” “No, sir, I’m Afraid I haven’t.” “Okay, thanks.” Then the film starts running again. This would be merely funny, but it happens twice (twice!) which bumps it up to hilarious. It reminded me of Michael Bentine’s Potty Time (ITV, 1973 – 1980), which, admittedley, isn’t something many giallo can claim.
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The Killer Must Kill Again also reminded me how awful the 1970s were. I think we’re supposed to sympathise with Luca and Laura, but it’s 2019 not 1975 so that becomes quite difficult. She’s such a shrinking violet and he’s such a boorish pig, it’s startling to see what was accepted as “cheeky” behaviour back then. Maybe there are still places where its acceptable for men to browbeat their girlfriend into reluctantly exposing her boobs to distract a gas station attendant? Parts of Cleckheaton, maybe? And while Laura is left alone in a decrepit beach house, Luca wanders off for some eats, but ends up banging a dizzy blond stereotype as thanks for his fixing her car. Even better, even more suave, even more saucily, sexsationally ‘70s, Luca drives back with the empty-headed cipher with the aim of cajoling Laura into a threesome. Events violently take the wind out of his engorged sails, obviously; but he’s still a bit of a priapic shit, yeah? And after the horror has ended there’s a lovely bit where The Inspector dismisses the couple saying they’ve suffered enough; given the disparity of their experiences at this point this seem more than a little brusque. Particularly for Laura.
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The Killer Must Kill Again isn’t an entirely terrible way to kill time, but as giallo go it’s a bit mediocre. It does accidentally luck into some suspense, particularly near the end when things get gritty in the beach house, and there is a satisfying finale when The Inspector shows he’s not as daft as you look. It isn’t terribly stylish or fetishistic so The Killer Must Kill Again is probably more valuable as a historical artefact of attitudes best left in the past than as an example of a giallo. But giallo fans gotta giallo, so if you’re into giallo take a look see.
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womenintranslation · 7 years ago
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Thanks to Sarah Coolidge at the Center for the Art of Translation for this Fall Reading List: 8 Forthcoming Books by Women in Translation!
AUGUST 28, 2017
Fall Reading List: 8 Forthcoming Books by Women in Translation
by Sarah Coolidge
Because reading women in translation should not be limited to one month out of the year.
Women in Translation Month ends this week, but that doesn’t mean that the spirit of the month can’t last all year long. One great way to show your support for the cause is to support the presses and journals that are dedicated to publishing women in translation. Many of these presses are currently having sales (we currently have two!) in honor of #WITMonth, but hurry—most of them end this week!
And after August? The good news is that this fall promises a flurry of books by talented and groundbreaking female writers. In addition to Two Lines Press’s forthcoming A Working Woman by Spanish writer Elvira Navarro and translated by Christina MacSweeney, here are eight forthcoming books to look out for this fall.
1. Swallowing Mercury by Wioletta Greg, translated from Polish by Eliza Marciniak
Transit Books, Available September 12, 2017
Our friends across the Bay at Transit Books are poised to publish this translation of the debut novel by Wioletta Greg, one of Poland’s most exciting writers. Greg is also a poet, so her novel detailing life growing up in 1980s communist Poland is sure to bring so much more than just interesting tales from the other side of the Iron Curtain. If you’ve read any of her work—published recently in the White Review and Granta—then you know why we’re so excited to finally get our hands on a book-length work of hers.
Join us September 21 at Green Apple Books on the Park in San Francisco to celebrate the book’s release.
2. Katalin Street by Magda Szabó, translated from Hungarian by Len Rix
NYRB, Available September 12, 2017
Another novel by Hungarian author Magda Szabó, whose novel The Door was one of the New York Times Book Review’s “10 Best Books of 2015.” This latest novel, translated by Len Rix, is about three families living on Katalin Street in prewar Budapest. When the Nazis arrive in 1944, their lives are upended and only one family survives intact. Certainly not an uplifting tale but an important one, and Szabó is definitely a writer you should be reading.
3. Go, Went, Gone by Jenny Erpenbeck, translated from German by Susan Bernofsky
New Directions, Available September 26, 2017
We mentioned this book in our summer reading list, but it bears repeating. There are several reasons to get excited for this forthcoming translation. First, Jenny Erpenbeck, author of The End of the Days, is certainly one of the most interesting contemporary German writers being translated today. Second, the novel is translated by the masterful Susan Bernofsky. And third, the novel is described as “a scathing indictment of Western policy toward the European refugee crisis, but also a touching portrait of a man who finds he has more in common with the Africans than he realizes.” Contemporary, personal, and beautifully written—enough said!
4. Abandon by Sangeeta Bandyopadhyay, translated from Bengali by Arunava Sinha
Tilted Axis Press, Available October 6, 2017
Sangeeta Bandyopadhyay exploded onto the international stage last year with her transgressive novel Panty in Arunava Sinha’s beautiful translation. She has been called India’s Ferrante, as well as “the woman who reintroduced hardcore sexuality to Bengali literature.” In her follow-up novel, Abandon, Bandyopadhyay tells the story of Ishwari, a woman who runs away from her home and her family in order to focus on writing a novel. When her five-year-old son Roo follows her, however, things get complicated. A story about “the perpetual conflict between life and art,” this novel confronts the uncomfortable truths about motherhood and the female experience.
5. The Iliac Crest by Cristina Rivera Garza, translated from Spanish by Sarah Booker, with an afterword by Elena Poniatowska
Feminist Press, Available October 10, 2017
From the publisher: “On a dark and stormy night, two mysterious women invade an unnamed narrator’s house, where they proceed to ruthlessly question their host’s identity. While the two women are strangely intimate, even inventing a secret language, they harass the narrator by claiming repeatedly that they know his greatest secret: that he is, in fact, a woman.” This may be the most intriguing description of a book tackling gender since Anne Garréta’s Sphinx. Rivera Garza, who has been praised by both Jorge Volpi and Carlos Fuentes, is the only author to win the prestigious Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz Prize twice. And despite the fact that it has been fifteen years since Rivera Garza published this book in Spanish, The Iliac Crest could not be coming at a better time; in fact, the relationship between gender, language, and power is more relevant today than ever. And it only gets better—the book includes an afterward by iconic Mexican writer Elena Poniatowska!
6. North Station by Bae Suah, translated from Korean by Deborah Smith
Open Letter Books, Available October 10, 2017
You probably know Bae Suah as the author behind Recitation and A Greater Music. Open Letter is giving us more Bae Suah this October with North Station, a collection of seven short stories by the acclaimed Korean author. The stories’ premises are strange and alluring, for example: “the staging of an experimental play goes awry” and “time freezes for two lovers on a platform, waiting for the train that will take one of them away.” Bae Suah is known for combining Korean and European literary style; after all, she herself is a translator, having brought into Korean several works by German authors W. G. Sebald, Franz Kafka, and Jenny Erpenbeck (see #3 on this list). Translated by Deborah Smith, who won the Man Booker International Prize for her translation of Han Kang’s The Vegetarian, this book is definitely on our to-read list this fall.
7. Belladonna by Daša Drndić, translated from Croatian by Celia Hawkesworth
New Directions, Available October 31, 2017
Daša Drndić’s English debut, Trieste, got a good deal of attention with its historically-based account of one woman’s experience losing her son to Heinrich Himmler’s terrifying Lebensborn project. Drndić notably dedicates forty-four pages of that novel to listing the names of thousands of Jews who died due to Italy’s cooperation with the Nazis. In these times, fascism and its history should not be treated lightly. And Drndić is not one to do so. In this forthcoming translation by Celia Hawkesworth, Drndić provides us with a new guide into the dark past of the twentieth century: an old man named Andreas Ban, a retired psychologist living in a Croatian coastal town with memories going back to the devastation of WWII and the breakup of Yugoslavia.
8. Translation as Transhumance by Mireille Gansel, translated from French by Ros Schwartz
Feminist Press, Available November 14, 2017
That’s right, a translated book about translation. The book, originally published in French in 2012, is a memoir by Mireille Gansel, the French translator of Nelly Sachs, Peter Huchel, and Reiner Kunze, as well as several classical Vietnamese poets. Gansel grew up in “the traumatic aftermath of her family losing everything—including their native languages—to Nazi Germany.” Now reaching an English audience for the first time—thanks to Ros Schwartz and the folks over at Feminist Press—this book examines a singular life but also the universal experience of living in the spaces between languages. Here’s what the publisher says: “Gansel’s debut illustrates the estrangement every translator experiences for the privilege of moving between tongues, and muses on how translation becomes an exercise of empathy between those in exile.” Sounds absolutely fascinating! You can read an excerpt from the translation here.
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theplaguezine · 6 years ago
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LACUNA COIL
Interview with Cristina Scabbia by Daniel Hinds
(conducted June 1999)
One of the most impressive bands to emerge from Italy in recent times has to be Lacuna Coil.  Mixing elements of gothic and metal in an unusual way, they fall into that same vague, hard-to-define sub-genre that bands like Sentenced and Moonspell now call home.  What separates Lacuna Coil from the others, though, is the addition of the graceful, soaring vocals of Cristina Scabbia.  The elements all fall into place on the band's debut full-length, In A Reverie, which was just recently issued in the States after being available overseas for a while.
Though she began our conversation by apologizing for her bad English, I found Cristina to be very articulate, as well as quite charming and optimistic - rare traits in a metal singer, to be sure, but nothing about Lacuna Coil is commonplace.
I understand you recently did a tour with Skyclad.  How did that go? Very good.  With Skyclad and then another month with Grip Inc. and Samael.  With Grip Inc., it was sort of a festival for a week.  The reaction of the audience was great and all the bands are really nice guys (laughs).  Also, with Skyclad, it was really good because they are really happy people.  They like to enjoy themselves - we drank a lot, we had a really good time with them.  Also, the audience of Skyclad is really open-minded.  We are two different bands, but the audience was really open-minded and they liked us.  Fortunately!  (laughs)
How about future shows? Right now, we're going to play some festivals in Germany and we have to play in Naples, in Italy, with Aerosmith (?!-dh) on the 12th of July and some festivals around.  But we also have to write some new songs, new material for the new album because we want to record it in January of next year.  I only know that maybe we might play some festivals around the US next year, but I don't know when yet.
Speaking of writing a new album, what is the Lacuna Coil writing process like? Mmm, it depends.  Right now, we want to change the way we write new songs, but usually, the main composer is the bass player, along with the guitar player, and they write the main structure and the guitar parts.  Then we try, with a drum machine, to find the good drum parts, they try it in the practice room, then we find the vocal lines and the lyrics.  But we want to change and to try to start the songs from the vocal line, for example.
How do you feel the new album differs from the EP? The first thing is the line-up changed.  You can hear it from the music, because you can hear that it is more positive and more mature.  The compositions are changed, because we take a lot of care with the structure of the songs.  I think the main thing is it is more mature.  We wrote songs, instead of just music, some riffs put together.  Maybe the one is more natural, because it reflects what we were in that period, but right now In A Reverie can explain the condition of the band - very positive, very 'in a reverie,' in a dream.
How did you first get involved with Lacuna Coil? In '96, because you know the band used to only play for a hobby, between friends in the practice room.  They only asked me to do some choruses for the demo tape that we recorded in '96, and I said 'yes.'  After that, they asked me to be another singer.  We said, 'Okay, let's try to have two singers, but not only a chorus and a main singer.  Let's try to sing together with a male and a female.'  That's about it.  They were friends of mine.
Do you write the lyrics? Yeah, we wrote the lyrics, me and Andrea (Ferro, male vocalist), together, along with Valerie from Century Media.  She's Italian-American, so she can help us better.
Where do you get your inspiration from for the lyrics? We used to talk about personal things, things that happen every day.  We don't want to talk about pessimistic things, because we're not into that.  But we really like to talk about our personal feelings or personal or experiences we've had:  love, hate, when you're sad - we want to try to talk about sensations maybe.  We try to suck inspiration from the music.  If the music is sad, I of course cannot write happy lyrics.  But we like to talk to about real things.
How did the actual recording of In A Reverie go and do you actually like working in the studio? Yeah, a lot.  Maybe it is the worst experience for a musician (the studio), because you have to be prepared even if you are ill or something.  You have to be ready to do your best.  You're in the studio early in the morning and stay in the studio all day.  And maybe it is boring because you have to wait for all the parts to be finished before you record, but I think it is very good.  We recorded in the same studio, The Woodhouse, with the same producer, Waldemar Sorychta.  Waldemar right now is a very big friend of ours.  If, in the first album, we received a lot of advice from him in terms of the music, (this time) we wrote everything by ourselves and we received his help only in the studio, with the recording.
Was it difficult to get attention outside of Italy? Not so much.  In Italy, there is not a very big scene in metal because people used to listen to more commercial stuff like your dance music from England, or MTV or something like that.  It's not so difficult when you become well known outside of Italy and then come back into Italy.  It is difficult for an Italian band, for example, to have a good record label in Italy or to play…. The people, it is really strange.  I don't know why, but they have more respect for the bands outside of Italy.  Maybe they think the bands outside Italy are better - I don't know why.  But right now, we are quite famous and we are really happy because now the trend in Italy is the power metal, the epic metal, and we are totally different.  We are the only band that you can find in the magazines that's a little important that play another kind of music, so we're proud of that.
Does it bother you when people comment more on how you look rather than the music? Ah, it's normal.  Have you ever thought about the intelligence of Pamela Anderson?  (laughs)  No, I think it's normal because, in metal, it's not easy to find females in the bands.  You cannot find a lot of female personalities in the bands, so it is normal because a lot of fans of heavy metal are guys.  But I don't care, because they talk also a lot about the music.  It's not a problem.  Maybe it can only help us to be more in the magazines.  (laughs)
Where did you guys get the name for the band? We chose it from…I don't know where exactly, maybe the Internet.  The old name of the band was Ethereal and we recorded the demo tape with that name, but there was another band in Greece with the same name.  We chose two words.  'Lacuna' is a Latin word that means 'when you have a lack of something,' like a lack of memory, for example.  And 'coil' is a spiral and it's like an ethereal name, like 'empty spiral' so nobody can have the same name.  I hope!  (laughs)
What did you do before joining the band? I used to work in a shop, a clothes shop, and in an office also.  Right now, I cannot still live just by the music, so I work in a pub as a barmaid.  I work there when I'm in Milan.  I really like to do it.  Maybe one day, if I will not continue with the music, I can open a pub or something.  I really like to talk with people, so I think it is the best work.
When did you first get seriously interested in being a singer and who were some of your early inspirations? Hmm..  I started in about 1991.  I've always been interested in music, but I started to sing in '91, though for a completely different kind of music.  I used to give my voice without my name for some products of dance, for some radio, but I didn't like it because I didn't like to be alone to sing.  I really like being in a band, because it is like having a second family to be with.  My inspiration…I don't know.  My favorite singers are like Aretha Franklin, soul singers, but they are completely different from me, so they can only be idols, not inspiration.
What kind of music do you like to listen to? Everything.  Maybe my favorite band is Depeche Mode, because I think they are really modern, even with the old songs, I really like them.  But I like everything, from Extreme to Black Metal to everything really.  I only hate Italian music because it's really boring.
You should do a cover… Oh yeah, but only in the practice room… (laughs)  We are thinking about doing a cover, but we are not able to find one that we really like.  We want to do one but not of a band from the metal scene.  We want to do something really strange, I don't know what.
What do you like doing outside of music? It depends.  I really like to draw.  I really like to work in the pub, to see everyday your friends and at the same time you can make money.  I like to travel, to go shopping, to go out and meet people.  I love video games!  I'm a big fan of PlayStation and Resident Evil.  (laughs)
What are some of your favorite places you've traveled to, outside of Italy? For holidays, I haven't been so far from Italy:  Spain, France, nothing more.  But for the music, we've been everywhere in Europe:  Norway, Sweden, Germany, Switzerland, Luxembourg, Belgium, Holland, Poland and Czech Republic.  I'd like to go to America at the end of this month, so only my parents are going.  (laughs)  I'm really, really sorry.
I heard you might do a video from this album…? Mm, I'm not sure because it's not easy to get your video played.  For example, in Italy, we only have MTV and another channel called DMC2, but they only play commercial stuff.  I mean, the most heavy thing they play is Cranberries.  It's not easy for a metal band to do a video.  If you're not Metallica, you'll never see your video.  You have to have a very good video, too.  It's useless to do a video with a low budget.  Right now, we want to concentrate ourselves more on life and music.
www.lacunacoil.com
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