Piccolo Maestro was here and he stood at my door. Alerted on my presence, he peeled his gaze from the floor and stabbed me with it. I swallowed, with my chest bursting into flames, my breathing incredibly shallow. I'd been wrong. I wasn't prepared for his outburst. I hadn't yet gotten used to his hostility. My heightened anxiety cast a dizzy spell on me. Against all odds, I fought to stay calm.Okay, what was I supposed to do? Uh….greet. Yes, greet. Pulling my gaze from his frosty blue eyes, I said, "Bu…buon…" Shit. The tension was nothing like I'd known before. "Buon pomeriggio, Piccolo Maestro." [Good evening, Piccolo Maestro].He didn't respond; I dared not to look at him. "Fai un passo in questo modo." [Step this way.],” he commanded.On trembling feet, I got to where he was, stopping several inches away. "Holy fuck, I'm gonna kill you if you waste my time!"I staggered some inches close and stopped. I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to stay close to him. No sound came f
VINCENZOI stared down at the water—jaw clenched in full concentration. “Siete pronti.” [Ready?]I braced up. Having gathered enough momentum, I signaled to Michele with a thumbs up. "And go!"I plunged headfirst into the freezing pool. The water hit me hard on the face. I pierced down to the bottom of the pool, coming to lie face up. Bubbles left my nostrils. I left my eyes open for a while before shutting them. The serenity of the pool lulled me to sleep. Some time later, I jerked awake and pushed upwards to the surface. With my head out, I sucked in air. Fuck. My chest weighed tons. Ignoring the pressure, I came to realize that the sun had reached its peak. Had I actually stayed that long underwater? And come to think of it, where was Michele? I looked around. The fucker. He'd grown tired of waiting and had left. Good for him. Now, he'd know better than to question my lung agility. I swam to the edge of the pool, groaning and got out of the water. I padded to the awning, the
Writer's block came at the worst possible time. Example, right now I wanted to prove to Michele and that muppet that called himself Alessio that I was capable of staying on my own. I had slapped and knocked myself, had pressed the backspace key a thousand times, and had grunted all I could. Yet, all I could show off was a paragraph. Don't even get me started on the dreaded blinking cursor. Alessio…. Fuck. No way. I rather died than succumbed to defeat. And so, I engaged in an anxiety-reducing exercise. Breathe in…. Breathe out…Here we go. I sat still to think something up. Gradually, ideas seeped in. I cracked my neck and hunched my fingers on the keyboard. I was able to form two sentences for the second paragraph before my muse bailed on me. As always! Hitting the save icon, I shot up from my seat. All roads led to the private lounge.I grabbed a bottle of brandy from the fridge, poured some quantity in a tumbler and threw it in. The drink scalded my throat. Just the type of
RINAPressing my books tight against my chest, and with my bag hanging on my shoulder, I marched to my department theater. I kept some distance from my classmates, and by distance, I meant nothing less than five feet. I did so for two reasons;One—because of my famed status as Piccolo Maestro’s wretched maid. And two, my dressing. The extra large T-shirt and the knee length pants left me looking like an overfed pig. In fact, I appeared inflated, and despite this reality, a tiny smile sat on my face. I had even chuckled in the bathroom before leaving for school. I'd laugh, feeling both sad and amused.After what I'd gone through on Friday, I made the strong resolution to change my wardrobe. As fate may have it, my weekly wage dropped on Saturday. I'd wasted no time in hitting the nearest local store to get some appropriate clothing. One that would keep Piccolo Maestro off my case. If looking weird was the price I'd pay to have peace—oh, hell yes. I was willing to pay that price. Takin
The rumbling of my stomach stole my attention yet again. For what appeared to be the zillionth time. The time on the clock read twelve after five. It'd been nine hours since I last ate. I hadn't had the chance to visit the cafeteria for obvious reasons. In hindsight, I scolded myself for being a complete moron. It was possible that Piccolo Maestro hadn't been there, since he sometimes went to fancy restaurants outside of Santigo with his friends. But no, my dumb self hadn't considered that. Fear had clouded my reasoning, such that I kept a fast for what was likely to be nothing. I forced my gaze back to the textbook. Doing this proved difficult because not only had the rumbling persisted, but also, a searing headache had hit me. I gave up and left the library. Grabbing my back from the stowing room, I skipped off, practically jogging to the bus station. I'd never been this hungry to the extent of not checking if Piccolo master's car was in the garage. Which happened to be my ritua
VincenzoA rap drummed in my ears. I groaned, muttering meaningless words. In a flash, it ceased and I sighed in relief—prepared to continue enjoying my sleep. It came again, this time with a voice. " Vi boy. Come on, open up."Groaning out loud, I sat up and glared at the door. With the knock coming yet, I rolled out of the bed and padded off. A small pull revealed a lanky figure. "Oh, did I wake you up?"I nodded with the frown still on my face."I'm sorry." She ruffled my hair. "I really need a favour from you."I moved my head, urging her to say whatever it was so that I could return to sleep. "Can I use your bathroom? Mine got blocked," the figure said.I slanted my head in total disbelief. "It beats me too. And your Papà and Mammà are fast asleep. I don't want to trouble them."It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her to ask the maids, but I figured that she must have already done that. Her bedroom was close to the servant quarters. "Okay." I pulled the door wider, lettin
RINAWARNING!! TRIGGERING MATURE CONTENT AHEAD!!!!Something struck me, jerking me awake. Volumes upon volumes of air rushed into my nostrils as I gasped with my eyes wide open. After a few blinks, I became aware of what was going on. And what had rammed into me. Piccolo Maestro.Cold shivers swarmed my face and for a second, my heart stopped beating. On reflex, I flicked my gaze at the door, wondering whether I had stupidly believed it was locked. That was the only logical explanation for how Piccolo Maestro had made it here! I swept my gaze back at him. His chest, glittering with sweat, fuelled my anxiety. I gulped, making a mental note of how I'd leap from the bed and dash outside. I gulped again, wetting my lips and getting ready to make the leap. Okay. One…two, go! I plunged sideways, and fell flat on the bed. Piccolo Maestro had caught my leg. He pulled me back and forced me to look at him. His signature frown was present, but I could tell his eyes had something about them.
VINCENZOLife hadn't been this sweet. The reason for this statement wasn't sorely tied to the three-day break from school or the sticks of licorice I was so earnestly munching. Instead, life was sweet because I had proven my majesty. I had expressed my power. I had an eye for something, I went after it, I got it. The happenings of last night were still fresh in my mind. The bitch. I'd claimed her like I'd said I would. I'd drunk from her cup, taking in every inch—every piece of her. A deep chuckle tore through my throat. I held myself, careful not to choke on the licorice. "Not cool," Russo stated.Well, look who gave a shit about it being cool or not. Not me. It wasn't in my character to care; I most certainly wouldn't start now. Rina had always wanted me. Yes, with how she walked around letting those boobs swing, the fucking puta had wanted a taste of me. I wasn't going to believe the lie she'd told last night. About how nobody had touched her or seen her nude. There was no wa