He picked up his now damaged phone from the kitchen floor. The screen was badly cracked and the phone was not switching on. He swallowed down his anger. At least, he thought, he gave Marino a pretty good beating as revenge. Revenge… the word sounded sweet, familiar and foreign to him.
Revenge…
He rose, eyeing the shattered plate and spilled food on the floor. He walked out of the kitchen. Marino would clean it up.
•
A broken nose, a split on the lip and a swelling under the right eye were the injuries Marino suffered.
Marino kept muttering incoherent complaint the whole minutes he spent cleaning up his minor injuries.
“Of all days for you to destroy my face, its today! Today!”
“What’s happening today?” he asked, crossing one leg over the other and swinging his damaged phone in his hands.
“A freaking party! Fernando D’oseliotti’s freaking partito! And you dare destroy my face!”
“Stop making a whole lot of noise. I could have done more, you deserve it. You smashed my phone.” He spoke in a calm yet irritated tone.
“You're the worst! You better tell me what’s wrong!”
Marino words caught him off guard. He hadn’t considered the fact that Marino could guess what was going on with him. How did he even know? Marino didn’t know anything.
“You are shouting too loud.” He snapped, looking at the switched off TV.
Few seconds of silence and he looked at Marino. He was leaned back against the sofa watching him, his expression now calm
“You are coming to the party, right?” Marino asked.
He shrugged.
“You are coming.” Marino pronounced
He scoffed, “Says who?”
“Says me. You need to let out some steam. Drinks, music, crowd, girls and you are as loose as an eagle.”
He thought about it. This was the new him and the new him loved parties plus he needed some loosening up. It could be just what he needed to begin the new week, come out, meet people, showcase himself and prove his worth… and mark his preys.
“I will come.”
A wide mischievous grin was Marino reply, “I’ll feed you to the dogs, brother.”
“I’m anticipating.” He got up and began making his way back to the room. He might well just complete a few things he had to do before he got wasted and lazied the whole Sunday.
“Make sure you clean up the kitchen.” He ordered before stepping inside their bedroom, narrowly missing the shoe thrown at him.
“Domenico!” His older sister’s surprised voice came over the line the second she picked the call. Andrea.
“Buon giorno, those are the words.” He chuckled, rolling unto his back on his bed. He could almost not feel the heaviness in his chest, the familiar voice of his sister, the longing to be home helped ease his fraying nerves.
“Domenico de’Cerintti! You called me!”
His chuckled turned into a laugh.
“Yes, I called you.” He replied between laughs. He stopped when she didn’t say anything else.
“Hello? “
“I miss you.” His sister voice came over the line again,” Its been long I heard you laugh that way.”
His lips drew into a thin line. He didn’t want to talk about it.
“I know you won’t tell me what happened to you but I want you to know that I’m here for you, I’m always here for you. Domen, trust me on that one.”
He kept mute. Not because he didn’t believe her but because believing just wasn’t enough for him.
He cleared his throat, “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.” She answered with a sigh, “Been very busy lately. Marco’s been working late recently so I have to take care of Mario and Gio all by myself throughout the day. You can imagine.”
He chuckled, he sure could.
“Maria’s been helping but she has a fiance now, she can’t be as dedicated as she was before.”
“Little pepper?” he asked, his smile becoming wider at the mention of his little sister’s nickname.
She gave a short pleased laugh,
“She’s been such a darling.” She coed, “She makes things a tad bit easy for me.”
“Of course that’s…” he paused, hearing a faint girly voice in the background.
“Is that little pepper? Give her the phone.”
“Baby! “he heard his sister call, her voice sounded very faint. She must have put the phone away.
“Its brother, brother Domen!”
He heard an excited squeal and soon the voice of his 6 year old yonger sister filled his ears.
“Brother Domen! You finally called! “She exclaimed in Italian in her tiny babyish voice
He feigned a frown even if she couldn’t see him.
“Finally? Don’t I call you? “
“The last time you called me was about a month ago and sister Andrea said you almost never call her, she said you are a bad bad brother.”
He forced down his laugh keeping his tone neutral,
“Little pepper, am I a bad brother?” he asked in a lowered voice feigning sadness.
“Yes! You are supposed to call me everyday!”
He laughed aloud this time around, his shoulders shaking with the sound. He crossed his legs.
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
“Promise to call everyday? “
“I promise.”
“Good, now we’re on good terms.”
His smile didn’t drop.
“So tell me. What…”
“Bye brother, dodo, I’m off to play with baby Mario before he cries himself to sleep.” She said quickly.
He chuckled. She would trouble him about not calling and then not up to two minutes into the call, she would get off hurriedly. Her reason, big people talk are boring.
“She’s really your little pepper.” Andrea’s voice came back on the line.
“Yeah.”
“So when are you coming home?” she questioned, her tone no longer playful.
“Coming home?”He asked although he knew what she meant. He started counting the rows of panels up on the ceiling.
“Yes Domenico. When are you coming home? You’ve been away for over 6 months, only calling at intervals to assure us that you are still alive and we do not call a search party.”
“I’m at school.” He answered turning over on his stomach. He leaned his phone against the headboard and placed it on loud speaker.
“School? You’ve accepted your admission? You registered? When?”
“Three weeks ago. I’ve gotten an apartment, not far from the school. I’m settled in.”
“That’s great. I thought you were going to waste your life.”
They fell silent until she spoke again.
“Just be careful, Domenico and whatever it is you are struggling with, getting high on alcohol is not the answer.”
“I don’t…..”
“Don’t lie to me. I know, I know everything. I know you either bury yourself in your engineering books or bury yourself in a woman’s arms. I know and it has to change. You weren’t brought up to be promiscuous.”
“It’s my life.”
“And it’s mine. Your life is my life, I don’t live for myself, I live for you, my family, those I care about and so I don’t behave carelessly. You, your life, you live selfish. Very selfish.”
The heavy rock in his chest was beginning to appear again, making him anxious and uncomfortable.
“I can take care of myself.” He said again, his voice cold.
A pause.
“We love you.”
“Tell Mario and Gio and your husband I said hi.” He spoke and waited out of respect for her to cut the call before he switched off his phone. He felt like he was being suffocated and he got up, going over to his study table at the window. He sat on his chair and opened the big book on engineering he had been studying the night before. A few seconds and he was engrossed in the book.
Andrea was right after all. He either buried himself in his books or in the women. Although the last part, he cancelled a long time ago.
They could already hear the italian sensation playing a good distance away from the magnificent villa Fernando D’osellioti owned. Fernando was the handsome, rich senior that hosted the best parties. His parties were popular and a rave. He threw it three times a year, spring, summer and winter. He had everything right, the large house, the unlimited alcohol, the music and what not but funnily enough, Fernando never attended his own parties or any other party; he had girls flocking around him but there had never been any news of him being promiscuous, rumors had sprang up but they were quickly debunked. Fernando was always with his friends or at some school gathering or meeting or any other clean social gathering but he always scored the highest at the end of each semester. Fernando was mysterious. That was the story his ears were filled with by Marino as they drove to the party venue. The wide double doors to the villa were wide open and one could see the inside from the outside clearl
She stood there, her mouth slightly open, her lashes fluttering. It really was him. He looked much different from the Domenico she remembered, the Domenico she attended highschool with. That Domenico did not catch her fancy, that Domenico definitely did not look half this alluring, that Domenico definitely wasn’t this confident or dominant. That Domenico had been anything short of badass. Calm Domenico, always smiling and swallowing down the harsh bullying from Leonardo and his crew with his head held high until… “You might end up breaking that glass if you keep holding it that way.” “Leonardo.” She sighed, relaxing her hold on her glass. “Domenico, huh?” She glanced at him to see him looking in the same direction. “He’s different.” She stated, bringing her glass to her lips then dropping it with a scowl when she discovered it was empty. “He sure is.” Leonardo drawled, a mocking look on his face, “disappears for what? 7 months? Comes back a whole new man. What’s he up to?” “I
He wasn't smug or triumphant or pleased. He wasn't angry or mad or furious. He was hurt. After his dance with Rosetta, he had endured another thirty minutes of nonsense conversations with prowling women and pride filled disdainful comments from jealous high school mates. After the thirty minutes, he had gotten fed up and he sent a quick text to Marino with the new phone he acquired earlier that day, 'I'm heading home. Find another ride or die trying." And he left for his car. He was still sitted in his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly with white knuckles. He was hurt. All his swagger and act and pride didn't chase away the vulnerable boy in him seeking acceptance. He was accepted alright but for all the wrong reasons. The women were only after him for looks and for money and the men either didn't even spare him a second look or spat pride all over him What was he expecting anyway? Warm hugs and friendly kisses? Friendly conversations and people actually concerned about his
Domenico ran a hand through his hair. First day of college or rather his first day of college after 6 months away from school. He wouldn't deny he was a bit nervous but at the same time, there was the thrill of excitement of the unknown. He stepped into the first lecture of the day. ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ "Hey, Fratello!" He turned back to see who the owner of the unfamiliar voice was. He just took the last stairs off the civil engineering department building. He was hungry, he wanted to visit the bar Marino had told him about that was somewhere in the school. He had checked it on the map and it was a trekkable distance. He adjusted his bag over his shoulders, tapping his sneaker clad foot on the ground impatiently. "Scusa." The boy, his agemate but with softer features that made him look younger, panted out when he reached him after practically flying down the stairs. They shook hands. "I'm Clemente." The grey eyed boy with hair that fell all over his face offered. "Do.... "Domenico de
"Hurry, Aryanna, we need to get to the mall as soon as possible." Rosetta ordered finishing her bottle of moretti. She caught the fleeting look of protest in Aryanna's face before it dissappeared. She was being overbearing, she knew but she was too far gone to care about anyone's feelings at the moment. What she wanted, she must get. Milena looked between the both of them. "Why do you need to go to a mall when you..." Milena paused staring at something behind her in surprise, "Is that Domen?" Her head whipped back since she was backing the entrance to the bar. Domen? Domenico? "Who?" She asked, her eyes still prowling around. "Domenico de Cerintti, he's heading for the terrazzo." Milena informed just as her eyes zoomed in on his broad back. "Domenico." His back view was exquisite. He exuded power and coolness at the same time. Why was he so cool? So her type of man? Where was he all these years? She had spent the last fourty eight hours wondering about him. If she had suspecte
Domenico glanced at the clock on his desk, it was past 2am and then noticed his phone screen had lit up. He cracked his knuckles and picked up the phone. Five hours of reading. He was getting better. Andrea was calling. He sighed, he didn't feel like talking to her and he also hated being disturbed when studying. He had put the phone on silent for a reason. The call ended and he was about to put down the phone when his eyes caught the call notification. 20 missed calls, all from his sister. He called her back in a flash, she picked up immediately. "Sister, are you okay? Is everything alright?" He asked hurriedly, his forehead creased in worry. Her sobs was what he heard. "Sorella? What happened?" "Talk to me, Andrea!" He raised his voice when she still didn't say anything. "Marco." She cried in-between choked sobs. "What happened to Marco? Talk to me." Her cries increased. He swallowed down his impatience, running his hand through his hair. Something was obviously very wrong.
Rosetta tapped her car keys against her palm, tapping her foot impatiently. She wanted to get home and rid herself of the suffocating clothes she had on and have a good long bath. However did Aryanna survive? “Finally.” She sighed when she sighted Marino walking towards her. “You do know I’m a busy woman, right? I don’t like being kept waiting.” She said when he was stood in front of her. He eyed her down and she eyed him feeling invaded. “Eyes up here, Mr.” she snapped her fingers in his face. He chuckled, finally looking her in the eye. “Domenico is one lucky man.” He said amusedly. She glared at him, why were the men she related with animals? Domenico would never ogle her so boldly. “Result?” she demanded. “A big no.” he told her, coming to lean against her car. Her heart dropped. “I thought you said he needed a cook? Why…” “Isn’t it obvious?” Marino cut in mischievously, “Because it’s you.”
He laughed loudly, in spite of himself, ushering her into his house, thankful that he had cleaned it already early that morning. “Wow” she breathed out, looking around his home, “splendido. I love that rug.” “Everybody loves it.” He said confidently, his smirk still on, his hands in his pants pocket. She shot him a glare. “Really Domenico, your look scared me. I would never have rambled so much if I wasn’t in doubt of myself and I am almost never in doubt of myself. I hate you.” He chuckled, “it seems like that phrase is being used a lot these days.” “What? I hate you?” she asked distractedly, walking around the small sitting room. “Yeah.” He answered, watching her. “No surprise, you're so annoying. I hate you.” She said with a little more venom than expected. “My pleasure, il mio amore.” He spoke. She wagged a finger, her back still turned to him. “No way, Domenico. I have a boy friend. That ton