"I don't think it's a good idea for me to come," Belinda protested, as her sister rushed her to get dressed.
"But you have to be there," Naomi stated with a huff.
"Not after everything I've done and said between yesterday and today," the girl sighed, rolling onto her side. "We had an awkward goodbye today, and… I don't think Bill wants me around his brother. Can you blame him? He hates me."
"That's not true. Don't get any crazy ideas into your head." Naomi sat on the edge of the bed. "While you were making up your usual mental pictures, they told me twice how to reach them backstage. Now, if they didn't want us to go, why would they?"
"Because they already gave us passes," she muttered stubbornly.
"Look, Linda, I know you've had a terrible morning, and I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?" Naomi rubbed her back.
"No!"
"How long are you going to go on like this? Do you realize that what you've been carrying inside you for so long is destroying you?" Naomi, angrily, threw a pillow at her.
"Ouch!" Belinda sat up with blazing eyes, gripping the pillow like a weapon. "I just want to forget, don't you understand?"
"What you try to forget, your memory brings back."
Naomi took her phone and started a video, holding it at eye level.
"Who is this girl smiling while miming a guitar, singing, running across the stage?"
"Stop it! It was just a coincidence and it shouldn't have happened." Belinda pushed the phone away.
"No, it was fate! You needed a jolt, and, lo and behold, the people you least expected gave it to you."
"Enough! I'm taking the train to Potsdam tonight, closed the subject!" she decided stubbornly, sitting on the bed.
"Yes, all right, run away again," her sister reproached her. "I'm not moving from here. If it's not too much trouble, you can pick me up on the way back. I didn't think you were such a coward..."
She stood up and headed for the bathroom.
"Don't call me a coward, without knowing what you're talking about!" Belinda shouted after her, throwing the pillow at her.
Naomi turned and looked at her seriously. There wasn't a hint of a smile in her eyes, and her voice was dark. "Who says I don't know what happened that night?"
Belinda's eyes widened in terror and she collapsed on the bed, her face ashen.
No, it was impossible that her mother would have spoken of such a terrible subject to her sister.
She had fragments of memories of that night a year ago, when her mother had joined her in a dark loft on the Po River in Turin. She still felt the chill, the fear gripping her back... She had thought her life was over.
If she closed her eyes, she still saw that dark spot before her, threatening to absorb her and drag her down.
She shook her head.
"Mommy couldn't have told you..." she began in a trembling voice.
"She wasn't the one who told me anything," her sister snapped angrily. "I was there too."
"What? But where... I don't remember..."
"Exactly! You don't remember, but I do, since I was there."
With a sigh, Naomi pulled away from the door and walked toward her sister. She stopped in front of her, keeping her distance, without touching her.
"Linda, I never talked about it because I knew it hurt you, but that's enough! I came with you to see you live and smile again. Yesterday, I was the happiest person in the world to see you on that stage... Okay, I may have been overreacting to force you up there, but it was beautiful to see you like that. It felt like time had gone back to when Raffy and I used to come to applaud you at your performances with our parents... I want those moments back."
The image of a laughing family at the pizzeria, after the concert, flashed through their minds. Laughter and comments punctuated by loving glances and bickering that continued late into the night. And then they both fell asleep on the couch, with little brother Raffy in their arms, while humming cartoon songs off-key.
"I miss them too," Belinda murmured, her eyes shining, brushing her hair back.
"You know I'll stop Alex from reaching you at all costs, right?" Naomi's tone was that of a grown woman.
Belinda closed her eyes. Despite having been protective of her younger brother, despite the few years separating them, she had tried to protect Naomi in every way, and this had prevented her from establishing a relationship with her as peers. In that moment, she struggled to recognize her sister, so thoughtful, so resolute, so... grown-up.
"You don't even have to talk to him, Tinker Bell, promise me!" she ordered, opening her eyes and taking her by the shoulders.
"I don't want to talk to him, I just want him to disappear forever," her sister corrected her, pounding her fist into the palm of her other hand.
"I'm not kidding, little girl! He's dangerous."
"Okay!" Naomi's voice returned to its usual lighthearted tone. "As long as you come to tonight's concert... and for God's sake, don't go on stage again!" she said, feigning scandal. "But above all, don't chase Bill."
Belinda blushed and protested: "Are you senile? Who's chasing him?"
"I've seen the way he looks at you. I have the feeling that, even though you're a terrible little dwarf, he's been bewitched." She laughed. "But stay away from him. There are three others, actually two, who are free. He's busy with me... even if he doesn't know it yet."
"Stop it! Judging by the way I've been acting, I think he can't wait for me to leave. As for the others, given your history with Tom, I'll probably focus on Klaus."
"Come on, you have a good connection with Tom... You just have to avoid killing each other every time you open your mouth."
"Maybe you're right."
At that moment, Annalisa entered the room, waving an envelope at Belinda.
"They left this at the reception desk for you."
"And who sent it to me?" she asked curiously.
"I don't know, it doesn't say anything except fragile."
Belinda took the yellow envelope; there was no writing or information on it other than the name of a shop located in the mall they had visited that morning. She forced herself to curb her curiosity and slowly opened it, removing the adhesive seal; a necklace with a small blue glass flower slipped into her hand, accompanied by a tiny devil-shaped note.
She burst into laughter as she admired it: it was truly beautiful, with its delicate stem and sky-blue corolla. It could only have come from Tom, given the shape of the note.
The two girls stared at her curiously, but then they understood. With a mischievous grimace, Naomi grabbed her clothes and headed for the bathroom. "Someone wanted to apologize... and I think they want you at the concert tonight."
Annalisa nodded too. "Shall we go?"
"I think so... after all, I have a necklace to pick up," Belinda agreed, clutching the flower in her hands with a smile.
*
The crowd was as massive as the night before, and Belinda suppressed the urge to run. Luckily, by showing her pass at the back entrance, they entered quickly enough. They were directed through a maze of corridors and cables hanging from the ceiling, amidst the chaos of people continuing to work and others shouting final directions.
The girls looked around curiously, observing the enormous lighting scaffolding, the comings and goings of people carrying instruments to the stage, and the frenetic pace of the workers.
They stopped at the end of the corridor, in front of a door bearing a glowing yellow star with a stylized inscription that spelled out the band's name.
Belinda took a deep breath, while Naomi excitedly knocked on the door.
The door opened almost immediately, and a blond man in a classic suit and tie appeared. After looking at them curiously, he invited them to sit down.
The room wasn't large, and the four young men were sitting in a corner, chatting with two other men.
"I'm André Schein, their manager," he introduced himself, extending his hand. "And you, I believe, are the Italian girls."
They greeted him politely, and from a distance, Kristian waved at them.
Annalisa and Naomi headed toward the artists, while Belinda lingered at the door.
"I saw you sing last night; you have a beautiful voice," André told her.
"Thank you," she replied, a little embarrassed. "But I think I messed up a bit between going on stage and singing."
"I don't think so. I saw a great performance. You obviously are a professional," he contradicted her, looking at her with interest.
"You're wrong. I'm not a singer, I've just performed a few times in clubs in my city."
"You mean you don't have anyone following you?" the man asked, perplexed.
"Apart from a few suitors?" the girl quipped.
They both laughed, but before she could continue the conversation, André was called by a technician. He waved and walked away. Belinda remained frozen in place, unsure of what to do. On the one hand, she wanted to join the others, on the other, her attitude from the day before still rankled. She sighed, running a hand through her hair, followed a strand to her neck, where she intercepted the necklace and stopped, clutching the flower. She caressed it and felt a spontaneous smile rise, thinking of Tom and his gift. She looked up at him and met his enigmatic gaze. They studied each other for a few moments, then the boy nodded at her. It almost seemed like an invitation to join him, so, without knowing how, he moved toward her. He let go of the necklace, which remained prominently displayed on the hem of his shirt.
The boy let out a satisfied smile, happy that this small gesture had conveyed his message. He couldn't have apologized to her in words, because he wasn't one for long speeches.
Bill turned to ask him something and noticed the girl's arrival. He started to speak, but noticed the necklace and the way the two were looking at each other. He grimaced, but couldn't stop staring at her.
"Hi," Belinda greeted, stiffening.
Suddenly, the little confidence that had convinced her to approach vanished. She had overcome her embarrassment with Tom, but she couldn't overcome the discomfort she felt under Bill's careful scrutiny and the fact that he seemed annoyed by the small gift he had sent her.
Klaus raised his wands in greeting, and Kristian nodded.
Bill continued to stare at her, a sparkle in his heavily made-up eyes, a hint of a tight smile.
"Hi," he said. "I'm glad you came."
Naomi teased her with her eyes, mouthing a silent, "Did you see?"
Belinda shrugged and focused on the boys' outfits. They were dressed almost entirely in black, with a single bright red detail standing out on each of them: Bill's pants, Tom's shirt, Kristian's t-shirt, and Klaus's cuffs.
Although she appreciated the choice of clothes for the evening, her attention was drawn to Bill's hair: this time, it wasn't straight on his head, but loosely down his shoulders, interwoven with fake white braids. It gave him a vaguely exotic look, making him resemble one of those ancient, majestic pharaohs of Egypt.
She stared at him for a long moment, until she noticed the smile on his lips and, blushing once more, looked away.
She didn't understand how he could upset her like that. Ever since she'd first met his gaze on stage, something strange had happened between them, and every time she felt Bill's eyes on her, she felt a strange warmth flush her cheeks. It didn't make sense, especially considering who he was.
"How long are you going on stage?" she asked, trying to get out of her embarrassment.
"About forty minutes," Kristian replied.
"Then we'll leave you alone so you can concentrate."
She stood up to walk away.
"No, just stay here, you're not bothering us," Bill stopped her.
Belinda raised an eyebrow, surprised, but he smiled and she resumed her seat.
The atmosphere was relaxed, the tension that usually preceded every performance still missing.
"You'll be spectacular, aren't you?" Naomi said excitedly to Bill.
He responded with a warm laugh.
"Absolutely!"
The minutes passed quickly, and soon an attendant arrived, signaling them to follow. The girls moved to the back of the room so as not to interfere with the preparations.
Suddenly, the atmosphere was filled with excitement and nervousness: Bill began to bite his lips, Kristian wrung his hands, while Klaus rotated his arms and wrists. Tom jumped up, flexed his arms, snapped his fingers, and clapped his hands, saying, "Let's go!"
Before leaving the room, he glanced at Belinda, who whispered, "Smash everything!"
He gave her a pat on the cheek and then followed the others.
The announcer announced the band's arrival in a cacophony of lights and sounds, while they took their positions on stage, hidden by a heavy dark blue drape.
A man led the girls to the other stage entrance, to a spot from which they could follow the event, reminding them to be careful of cables and stands.
The position was to the side of the stage, but Belinda realized they had the best view of the performance and prepared to enjoy it.
There is an extraordinary moment in a concert, an infinite instant when time seems to stand still: the lights dim, the curtain begins to rise, and a thick, intensely scented fog spreads all around.
Belinda's body remembered what happens in those few, eternal moments: her heart begins to pound, adrenaline reaches every cell, which seems to expand until it explodes.
And then there's the leap forward, time rewinds and starts at a rapid pace, the moment the lights suddenly come on and the first note or percussion is played.
The magic of music begins to weave a whole new thread, the notes envelop the room, the fans' chants intertwine with the frontman's voice, creating the perfect moment that will remain in your memories.
Yes, Belinda thought, looking out at the audience, that was all she'd ever wanted in her life: to be on stage and experience the emotions music offered.
But unfortunately, it was painful to remember; the past had left scars she could never erase.
She closed her eyes for a moment and, sitting on a wooden box, listened, captivated by the melody. Each note seemed to come from her hands: she followed the chords, meditating on the technique and tricks that had been used.
She moved a hand toward her chest, searching for her guitar, and was almost surprised not to find the shiny case.
How many songs had she composed, thoughtfully plucking the strings, trying to follow the melody echoing in her head? She bit her lower lip to hold back a sob that rose from her throat.
She sighed.
When Dark Moon hovered in the air, she felt part of that magic.
Every evolution of the notes made her wish she'd written that piece herself because it was precisely her favorite genre: powerful, deep, and vibrant.
She thought back to a closed drawer in her room that contained her scores and felt a powerful nostalgia.
But just think how much these four madmen have disrupted my fragile existence! she thought thoughtfully, abandoning herself to a faint smile.
She felt the urge to run home, grab Black-star, her black electric guitar, and start playing.
Footsteps behind her jolted her, and, looking up, she saw André watching her. She smiled at him uncertainly.
"Is everything okay?" she asked.
"No," he muttered annoyedly. "I had thought about surprising Bill on stage tonight, to enrich some of the tour stops with something sensational, but last-minute surprises forced me to cancel. It just wasn't right!"
"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, standing up. "Can't we postpone it until the next date?"
"It wouldn't be the same. After yesterday's first stop, which followed Scream's usual style, starting tonight I want to surprise and launch the real tour with something new and unexpected. We've been working with a marketing expert on the double stop in Berlin, precisely to gauge its impact before the next performances. Postponing it to the next city doesn't guarantee the same result." He shook his head. "A special performance was planned for "Heartbreaker," which is the last song tonight, but..."
He shrugged impatiently.
Belinda watched Bill sing and was saddened by the missed performance. She knew from Naomi that with their newly released album, Scream had made a so-called leap in genre, abandoning their old, harder rock style for a pop-electronic genre. Moreover, the new songs were all in English to make their music even more accessible to the public. Changing musical genre and choosing a more commercial path could prove risky if the return on investment wasn't guaranteed.
Belinda understood that the band had made sacrifices by abandoning their sound, and she wondered how she would react if asked to make the same change. The genre she played and composed had been second nature to her; she didn't know if she would have the strength to lend herself to an evolution just to conquer a larger share of the music market.
If the investment had been substantial, perhaps the stage effect could spark curiosity and attract a larger and different audience than the previous one, highlighting the tour and attracting media attention and a surge in popularity.
She shuffled her feet, still thinking about the boys.
Why did she care about them? She didn't understand why she felt the need to make this evening special.
Sure, being so close to the stage gave her the feeling of being involved in some way, but being a part of the performance was something else entirely.
André continued to stare at her, but Belinda tried not to meet his gaze.
She feared that the man had a solution that required her cooperation, but she didn't want to get involved. Not after the night before.
Her only hope was that the concert would end quickly and that her sister would say goodbye to her idols, so that the next day they would be safe on a train that would take them north of the country.
"Maybe…" André began, while she was already looking for an excuse to walk away.
Don't look at him! Don't look at him! Don't… she repeated like a mantra, trying to force her feet to move away from the stage.
"No," the man continued after a few seconds, "it doesn't matter."
She felt trapped and was angry because, with his dejected attitude, he was trying to convince her to give in.
Belinda raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Look, André, I don't know why, but I think you want to ask me something. Can we not beat around the bush, please?" she snapped.
"I was watching you because in a way there is a solution, but I don't know how interested you would be."
"If I have to sing, the answer is no."
"No, you don't have to sing. I was thinking about…" He leaned close to her ear, explaining his idea.
Belinda's eyes widened and she held her breath. It took her a few seconds to realize, but as the scene took shape in her mind, a smile spread across her face. It was absurd, but fun, and it sparked her creative side.
And the effect it would have would be nothing short of fantastic!
Still smiling, captivated by the idea, she walked away with the man down the corridor, forgetting even the presence of her sister and friend.