Rina Cracking my knuckles, I paced around the room. Piccolo Maestro. That guy would be the death of me. He'd bring about my end. I soon got weary of walking; I perched on the bed, my mind wreathed with anxiety. It didn't take long before I stood again. Nerves wouldn't let me be. Two hours ago, I got the shock of my life. Piccolo Maestro had yelled at Liliana and touched me in front of her! He didn’t care that I'd be in trouble. He didn’t care she'd notice and go tell the Luna or worse—The Alpha. And now, I stood on tenterhooks, not knowing what would happen should his parents come back. It was almost dark. Any minute from now, the Luna would be here. What was she going to do? What would she say? My eyes darted back and forth as I pondered. The drumming in my chest distracted me. I couldn't make a mental picture with all the noise. My bum perched on the bed again. It was pretty obvious. The Luna would be flaming mad, and I didn't think the bulk of her anger would be directed to

RINASwallowing, I knocked on the door. An answer didn't come, so I was forced to knock again. This time around, an exhale followed. I got this. Nervousness grilled me, and brought my lids down. I was determined to enter that lounge. All this had to end here and now. With still no response, I raised my knuckles again, but didn't get to rap them on the door. Piccolo Maestro's chest was the next thing I saw. Or rather, the phoenix tattoo on his left pec. The design was done with precision. I could tell, from how red the edges were, it was new. Did it hurt? Could it be why he was shirtless now? And why the hell had I thought that? I snatched my gaze away, landing it on his sparkling eyes. Kill me. He'd been watching as I stared. I bit my cheek both as a way of chiding myself and gathering courage. Silently clearing my throat, I said: "I'm here to re—" He hurled me in and slapped my back against the door. An arm above me, he leaned. Uncomfortable with the proximity —as always—I pre

VINCENZOI came down to the chair and placed my text on the table. Staring back at me was the worst of the worst: Economics of Money, Banking and Financial Markets. Some days—like now—I wondered why I'd settled for a major in Finance. There wasn't any reason other than my parents' approval. Quite an irony, considering that I disagreed with them on everything. It turned out that I'd been a lost sheep. I hadn't a clear vision of what I wanted to do. So, rather than giving Madre more reasons to doubt me, I settled for what had been on the table. I finally got a choice a month after first year, but couldn't imagine deferring my admission to start all over. Instead, I'd endure this hell of a major and wait till after graduation. Again, I looked to be at an advantage, as my degree in Finance would come in handy when I started Law school.Exams were in full swing now. Started of last Thursday, and I haven't had any breathing space ever since. My department was notorious for being on the f

RinaThe worst decision I'd made, apart from accepting to follow Mammà to the pack house, was to give Sophia my number. It'd been calls after calls after calls. Everywhere, every freaking time. Right now was no different. It was still the same old stuff. The tickets, party preparations and Piccolo Maestro. Nothing annoyed me as much as her fixation on Piccolo Maestro did. She wanted to know everything about him. What he was doing and what clothes he had on. What he had for lunch and whether the o'clock shadow appeared? His routine, his this, his that. Would I be rude if I said Sophia behaved like him?" It was pure…what's the word? Pure obsession. I sighed as the phone rang again. Drying my palms on my blouse, I reached for it. Her voice shot through before I could speak, "Do you think you're being fair? You think I don't have anything better to do than waste my time and battery calling you?""I'm sorry.""The hell you are! You always say that. What's going on? Am I a disturbance

VINCENZOThe pack house pulsed with two distinct sounds. The upbeat music shooting from the living room, and my grunts. A bitch had her butt clasped on my dick; my head was thrown back as spams upon spasms of pleasure coursed through me. This was the first I was getting laid since the semester ended. And it had only been yesterday that I realised how sex starved I was. Coughing out a groan, I freed myself from her and started getting dressed. I didn't give a second look before leaving and returning to the partying room. All signs pointed at the fact that my parents were away. Colours—red, blue and green—shot from the disco ball, painting up the room. People were chattering, laughing, grinding and generally, living their lives. Given how loud the music was, my chest drummed. I was a happy-go-lucky guy which explained why I threw a party to mark the end of a semester. There was no sense in being a workaholic. I sat with Michele and Luigi, my arms spread wide on the head of the couch.