#Sienna would be more thrilled if she wasn't so focused on the campaign

[biromanticwritergal]

NaNoWriMo 2019 Day 18 Word Count Update!

I technically won today but I’m nowhere near actually finishing this novel. XD It’s a whole lotta nonsense. I promise you. I even made Yuuki and Benvolio fight over whether Madonna or Cher was a better pop star because that’s about my brain level at this point in the semester. ;-; 

I really don’t know why anyone expects exceptional intellectual work from me this time of year- it’s so shitty for my brain/mood/depression. I don’t have half the energy I had in October/September it’s like November came and hit me with a bag of bricks. I tried to do more work earlier in the school year to avoid this as much as possible but semesters always heap their work at the end even if you try to do your work ahead of time. :/ 

Anyways, I’ll stop bitching and present you with the current word count. I plan on adding to it until the end of November, maybe not as intensely though since I did technically beat the NaNoWriMo Challenge of writing 50k words in the same project during the month of November. So yay me! :P

Day 18 Word Count: 50,613 words! 

Excerpt (JJ narrates- he’s overhearing Sienna and Benvolio’s disagreement- Chapter 15):

Benvolio was even nominated to sing in Eurovision 2023 for Italy while in Milan for his extended holiday despite living in America for most of the year. He had surprised Sienna with the news after one of our meetings. She didn’t seem thrilled for him since she herself was so focused on the campaign.      

 “Oh, that’s great, babe.”                 

“Sienna, I am going to go for it. I have to compete in February at San Remo against all the other singers and musicians.”                 

“Wait, when in February, Benvolio? We have you booked to do our campaign concerts.”                 

“The last weekend, I was going to book my tickets for the week before-“ He began to reply but Sienna promptly cut him off, impatient with him. 

I couldn’t help but smile to myself. 

“You’ve already won Eurovision once, Benvolio. Can’t you just skip it this year? This is not a good time-“ Sienna said. 

“And offend the Eurovision council and worse disappoint all my fans? No, Principessa, I have to go now. This would be the last year I could qualify for four or maybe eight years. In eight years from now, I will be nearly forty years old. It’s easier to win Eurovision when you are still young and hot.”

He realizes that the consequence of his wife’s winning the presidency would make it extremely difficult for him to travel as a musician. He would be endowed with the title of First Man and that would overtake all other duties he might have until his wife left office. I didn’t credit Benvolio with enough vision, but as airy as he seemed, he had thought about what Sienna’s success in politics would do to his music career. Benvolio is entirely right that there is no way that the American government would let him compete in Eurovision while married to the President of the United States. This would absolutely be his last chance to return to that hollowed stage for several years to come. In fact, any concerts or touring would be a nightmare because of all the security risks it would entail.

 As the First Man, he’d be a caged bird that sings beautifully, and I could tell by the slack in his shoulders that he knew it too. I wonder if Sienna had considered how they both would give up their freedoms to serve the people of this great nation. She seemed to have no regrets and seemed to steam-roll on, like the powerhouse I knew her to be.

“Maybe you’d be better off-“ Sienna began and didn’t finish her sentence. 

 “What do you mean, Principessa?” Benvolio is rigid, truly scared of her refusal to explain herself. Sienna only shakes her head, her great mane of thick black hair a cloud of upset. 

 “You know what, baby, you go qualify for Eurovision and make me a proud wife.” She pulls him into an embrace which he accepts gratefully. 

“I will try my best!” He responded then, happy to be out of the choppy waters that Sienna had sailed them through.

 “Will you be able to make the rallies?” She asks him, having pushed herself back so she could look at his face, read his reactions better.

“If they aren’t the same weekend as San Remo 2023 then, yes, of course I will.” Benvolio smiles, hazel eyes shining; he means it.

“I think we somehow managed to book a rally every weekend except that one.” 

 “God is on our side, then, perhaps, Sienna?” He points up to the sky and his smile is brighter now.

“I wouldn’t make any bets, yet, Benvolio. Just go practice for your rehearsals and pray that we can win over enough people to make all this work worth it.” 

“You got it, Principessa!” He winks, kisses her cheek and runs off singing a song I’ve never heard the like of before, likely whatever he’s going to show at that song competition that he and Sienna nearly had a spat over.