The train whistled out of Milan station bound for Berlin, the first stop on their journey, leaving behind the people waving to passengers on the platform.
Belinda sat down with a sigh, hot from the rush to change trains that had brought them from Turin to Milan just in time to catch their connection to Berlin; she hoped the air conditioning would kick in soon, since the summer heat was already making itself felt in the early morning.
It was a beautiful day in late June, the sky was clear, but there wasn't a breath of air.
She lost herself in staring out the window at the city landscape disappearing, giving way to the hills of the province, a bright green, dotted with patches of colorful flowers.
A soft laugh brought her back to reality, prompting her to turn to look at the two girls sitting across from her, so different yet so similar.
Annalisa was brunette with dark eyes, and though she was Naomi's age, she had a sweet, innocent smile that made her look younger. She was smiling at her even now as she said, "Thanks for convincing my father to let me go. He doesn't like Germans much because of his job, so he wasn't exactly thrilled about me coming to Germany with you."
"I'm the one who should thank you; for me, it's the best solution. So, while you keep this crazy fairy in check, I'll have time to visit the campus and participate in the various initiatives, without having to worry about her."
"I don't need a nanny," Naomi grumbled, pouting.
"Are you really determined to leave Italy, then?" Annalisa asked, perplexed.
"I need to do something different, and studying languages abroad is the best option if I want to find work with international humanitarian organizations in the future."
"Yes, I understand, it's a nice project, but... what about your music?"
"No more music for a while," Belinda replied resolutely.
"He didn't even bring his guitar," Naomi whispered in her friend's ear.
Yes, she was convinced; she had decided to put music and composition aside for at least a while.
It still hurt to look at her guitar in the far corner of the room, but it was impossible to touch it without terrible memories flooding her.
Almost a year had passed since Alex had left her life, yet it felt like an entire lifetime.
And even though she no longer flinched at the sound of his name, no longer crossed the sidewalk to avoid passing his house, and had stopped ducking when she passed his friends and relatives on the street, the only thing that still hurt her was listening to their music, singing their songs, playing that guitar.
The journey into her soul had been long and painful, but she had not managed to rise from the ashes of her pain and return to her love of music. She couldn't compose, play, much less sing.
Sometimes she caught herself humming a jingles on the radio, a catchy theme song, but nothing more.
Music, the real thing, was buried beneath a tomb in her heart and would never come back to life. Only dark shadows remained, echoes of old laughter and whispers that no longer belonged to her.
The songs were locked away in a drawer, the sheet music hidden in the attic, and the guitar languished in a corner, half-covered by a black scarf, as if to mark its loss.
Even the small tattoo, shaped like a treble clef with wings, that she'd had on her hip, was always covered by long T-shirts.
Belinda closed her eyes, drifted off to sleep, and her dark thoughts faded into thin air.
She awoke a few hours later to a slight swaying: it was her sister asking if she wanted something to eat, since they'd be arriving in an hour and it was best to be full.
She muttered something and followed the two girls into the dining car, where she grabbed a salad and some fruit while the others wolfed down a mountain of food.
Blessed youth, she thought as she looked at them, despite the very small age difference between them.
Belinda would turn twenty-one in October, while Naomi would turn seventeen in September and Annalisa in December. But for her, that age difference was like an abyss, and she tended to think of them as young girls whose only worries were school, boys, and clothes.
At their age, Belinda was already composing songs and singing in the smoky clubs of Turin's underground with a rock band, screaming out all her anger and letting loose to the beat. The only sore point was that her father drove her to parties on his motorbike, which drew laughter and jokes from her friends.
Nonetheless, she was incisive on stage, with her raspy, mellow voice, not particularly high, but quite expressive and nuanced.
Belinda had started playing the keyboard as a joke at eight, but she fell in love with the guitar in middle school and hasn't put it down since.
How many times had her parents found her asleep at the foot of the bed, hugging the shiny case of her instrument. Then her affair with Alex had ruined everything: her life, her music, her dreams.
With a sigh, she returned to reality, looking back at the girls, who were licking the last remnants of the chocolate cake they had bought from a spoon.
"If any of you feel sick, I'll leave you on the first street corner, okay?" She shot them a look of feigned disgust.
"I've never thrown up in my life," Naomi replied resentfully, getting up in a huff to return to their carriage.
After a while, the train finally entered the Berlin station, amid the screeching of brakes and the noise of passengers.
A loudspeaker announced that the train was on time, and the girls hurried to grab their bags and get off.
They all spoke the local language quite well, Belinda and Naomi, because Tracy was of German descent and had therefore learned the language since childhood, while Annalisa had studied it at school for almost eight years.
They left the station, looking around curiously, admiring the beauty of the city, and took a taxi to the hotel where Belinda had booked. That morning, during the trip, she had called to exchange her single room for a three-bed room; fortunately, despite the short notice, it hadn't been a problem, as it was a quiet period for local hoteliers.
They would stay in the city for a few days, because Belinda was interested in some programs at the local university, and then continue on to Potsdam, where the project she wanted to follow was located. At the reception, a smiling blonde girl handed them the key, wishing them a pleasant stay and asking if they were interested in booking dinner as well. The girls gladly accepted, went to their rooms to freshen up and drop off their luggage.
"Nice place." Naomi looked around the room and threw herself onto the center bed. "Well done, my big sister, you made a really good choice."
"And what a beautiful view." Annalisa looked out onto the small balcony overlooking the street, where she could see the bustling crowd and the lit-up shop windows.
"A university friend who often comes to Berlin for her studies recommended it to me, so I'm close to the places I need to visit. Plus, they have a good student deal... Luckily they had other rooms available, otherwise we'd have had to look for something else."
The room was tidy, clean, and spacious enough to accommodate three single beds, a wardrobe, a desk, and a private bathroom. The curtains and bedspreads were orange, adding color to the entire room.
"I really need a shower," Belinda announced. "Can I go first, or do any of you have an emergency?"
"No, go ahead. We owe you at least that much as a thank you." Annalisa laughed, lying down on the bed.
Later, after a few phone calls home to reassure their families, since dinner was still a while away, they decided to take a stroll around the neighborhood to browse and check the public transportation schedules to plan their travels for the next few days.
Berlin at sunset was a play of colors, reflected on the large facades of buildings and shops. Luckily, the temperature was slightly cooler than in Italy, and it was pleasant to stroll through the streets, enjoying the chatter and the movement of the people.
The girls followed the conversations curiously, trying to grasp the words and their meaning.
"My goodness, how fast they talk," Naomi murmured after overhearing a conversation between two boys.
"Don't think we're any different in Italian. Aside from the local accents, sometimes we roll up words and link them to the next," Belinda replied. "I remember my German teacher always scolding me, saying I 'eated' words. I had to learn to speak more slowly, trying to pronounce them down to the last syllable."
They entered a book and music megastore, where they spent a lot of time browsing, listening to songs, and searching for material that was impossible to find in Italy.
"Look at this Blue Ocean poster." Naomi pulled a giant photo from a metal bin, immortalizing the most eccentric pop group of the moment. "My goodness, what a gorgeous jacket Strif is wearing."
"Wait a minute! Weren't we looking for Scream material?" Annalisa interjected.
"Enough!" Belinda grew impatient. "I can't take it anymore. Can you guys have a conversation without mentioning them?"
"Yeah, but I heard you humming their new song, 'Heartbreaker,'" her sister teased.
"It came out about a week ago, and you're blasting it twenty-four hours a day," she snorted. "If I'm not careful, it'll weld itself into my DNA."
"But you said you liked the video," Naomi retorted, tucking the poster under her arm to carry it to the register.
"Exactly, the video, because I love science fiction and I like robots, like the Will Smith movie 'I, Robot.' Don't you think it's a bit of an understatement to say I like them?"
"No, since you said the lyrics aren't bad either," Naomi continued undaunted.
"It's not bad," she admitted smugly. "But I'm not dying to see them live like you are."
"You don't know anything about rock bands," Naomi snorted, while her sister raised a sarcastic eyebrow.
"Yeah, because the one who spent her nights writing songs or singing in some dodgy club was you."
"No, it was you," her sister conceded. "But since you stopped, you can't look around and admit there's any good beyond the giants whose songs you sing."
"Good heavens, Tinker Bell, we're not talking about Green Day or U2. We're talking about a band that, before singing, became known for the way they dressed. They've focused heavily on the look and then on the music, and they have crowds of twelve-year-old girls who don't give a damn about how beautiful Bill's voice is, but who just want to get their hands on him."
"Oh no, you can't judge them without at least listening to the German songs: they have a truly innovative genre," Naomi fumed. "And I don't care about the other fans, because I'm different."
"Sure, because they just want to sleep with him, while you're going to marry him," her sister teased. "But since when did you give up on the idea of marrying Daniel Radcliffe, our dear little wizard from Harry Potter? He's very cute."
"Of course I'll marry Daniel, but Bill is something else," Naomi replied, visibly annoyed, as she walked away toward a shelf of music CDs.
"I'd be careful about attacking Bill. Who knows, if your sister gets it into her head that he'll be hers, you might actually have him as a brother-in-law," Annalisa whispered, laughing, and turned to follow her friend.
Belinda grunted and walked in the opposite direction. "Better a magician than someone who looks like a Japanese cartoon."
After a few minutes, Naomi joined her, out of breath and thrilled.
"Linda, oh my God! This is amazing… come on."
"What's going on?" Her sister grabbed her arm and pulled her toward a long counter at the back of the store.
"Come on, please!"
"Will you explain? Is Annalisa sick?"
"No, no, she's fine. Look over there." Naomi pointed to a corner of the counter.
Belinda didn't understand immediately; she stared, dazed, at a large gray-background poster on which a mechanical hand prominently displayed a beating human heart.
"How disgusting!" she exclaimed when she focused on it. "What is that rubbish?"
"What, robot friend," her sister mocked. "That is the apotheosis of humanity's beauty in a world of robots. It's the poster for the Scream tour."
"Ohmy God, no. No way, you're not taking that home."
"Who's talking about the poster!" Naomi snorted. "I'm talking about the concert. Look at the dates."
Belinda shifted her gaze to the bottom of the poster, where, clearly visible, the tour dates and the cities the band would be playing were listed.
"But there are no concerts scheduled in Italy!"
"Oh, you're really stupid, then," sighed her sister, shaking her head. "Tomorrow I'll be here, in Berlin."
"So...?"
A sudden flash illuminated Belinda, who turned to look at her sister.
"No, don't even think about it... I won't let you ruin my first day of vacation."
"But we're here, when will we get another chance like this?" Naomi begged.
"There are twelve more dates, so it'll happen twelve more times."
"But this is a twist of fate. The tour starts today, we're here all of a sudden, and the first concert is tomorrow, would you have ever guessed?"
"Something tells me you knew long before today, that's why you broke up for two weeks..." Belinda snorted, casting a snide look at the poster.
"No, I swear, I didn't know... but now I do." His eyes widened as he looked at her.
"I can't believe my life ruined by someone who's a caricature from a Japanese manga." Belinda covered her eyes with her hands. "The tickets are sold out anyway, at least I hope..."
"No, I'll be sold out if I don't find them right away." Naomi rushed to the counter to ask for information; after a few moments she came back with her eyes shining.
"There are very few left in the stalls. Come on, shall we go?"
"No way." Belinda shook her head.
"Come on, Linda, I have the money to buy them and I will, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't leave us alone among these unknown, wild fans in a foreign land," Naomi prodded.
"You should be an actress, listen... But why should I put up with a concert I don't like?"
"Anyone who loves music, loves all music," her sister teased. "Come on, you can't let me go alone: I'm not from here, I could get lost, hurt myself... Who's going to hear Mom?"
"I knew you'd be a source of trouble, that's why I wanted to leave you at home."
"That's a yes, right?" Naomi cheered.
Belinda headed for the exit, muttering incomprehensible curse words, arousing the curiosity of some of the bystanders.
After a few minutes, while she was browsing some necklaces in another window, the two girls joined her, chatting among themselves in ecstasy.
"Here we are, I can't believe it! Thanks Linda, you really are the best!" the girls flattered her.
Belinda, still reluctant, turned to look at them, even though she couldn't bring herself to be truly angry.
She understood them perfectly; she'd been through it too, when she'd pestered her dad to go to a Depeche Mode concert in Milan, until he'd agreed. So she'd bought two tickets, taking him with her, for an evening and a night she still remembered every detail of.
They'd sung, screamed, cried, sung some more, and lost themselves in a moment outside of time and reality. The Dave Gahan T-shirt still hung on a wall in her room, and the ticket coupon was in the treasure chest that held her most beautiful memories.
"You don't want to go to a concert looking like that," she scoffed, eyeing them critically.
"Don't worry. So, I'll put on the black shirt and… oh God, what can I wear with it?" Naomi gasped.
"Lest Kristian think I'm a slob the first time he sees me." Annalisa studied her reflection in the window.
She had a massive crush on the Scream bassist and spent hours admiring his beautiful long blonde hair, powerful arms, and sculpted physique. She constantly recounted the verbal duels the boy had with Tom, the band's other guitarist and Bill's twin.
With a sly glint in her eye, Belinda pulled out her silver credit card.
"Shopping?"
"Shoooppinnngggg!" echoed the other two, cheering and clapping their hands.
A few hours later, laden with bags and laughing like idiots, they returned to the hotel where, after dinner, they tried on clothes and hairstyles for the next day.