[Fanfiction] Wheel of Fortune - Chapter 17 (incomplete)
Chapter 17
He was in the middle of another rehearsal - or, perhaps more accurately, singing lesson. This time it was just him, Bonnefoy, and his co-stager for this scene, so he thought he was doing a little better. Bonnefoy was still very encouraging and didn't even interrupt him too often for feedback. His co-worker, however, didn't seem to share his enthusiasm.
Like pretty much all the other singers, she didn't approve of the director's choice for the male lead. She wasn't as vocal about it as the others, and so far she had been trying to go along with Bonnefoy's idea and act professionally, but she was obviously growing impatient. When Lovino failed to keep up with her in a series of notes, she finally snapped.
"I can't work like this," she said, shaking her head and walking away from Lovino to stand next to Bonnefoy. "At this rate, he's going to rub off on me and I'll get worse instead of improve."
"Come now, my dear Cecilia, aren't you being too harsh? He's not that bad! And he's making so much progress so fast!" said Bonnefoy in that irritating, condescending tone of his. With a lazy smile, he shook his finger at her and added, "Just look at that cute face. I dare you to look at those kicked-puppy eyes and tell him to his face he's no good. Go on."
She looked at him. Lovino wished she hadn't, because right now his face must look an undignified red blotch. He wasn't "cute" and he didn't look like a kicked puppy, dammit! He was a handsome, manly man who could very well take a piece of criticism without getting hurt, thank you very much!
Or at least that was what he wished to believe, but it was hard to when Cecilia's expression softened as if she really were looking at a cute kicked puppy. Ugh.
"You have potential, I'll give you that," she said. "But you still have much to learn."
Grudgingly, Lovino nodded in agreement. As much as he wanted to get angry at her, he knew that she was speaking the truth. Unlike some of the other sings, Cecilia wasn't mean-spirited; she just tended to be brutally honest. And he did respect her opinion, for he could not deny the fact that Cecilia was a brilliant opera singer, with years of experience on top of her natural talent. He wondered if she had ever been like him - insecure about singing in public, making mistakes, taking constant criticism from other singers. He hoped she had been, because then he would know there was a chance that someday he would be as good as her.
He was not going to lie to himself. He would love to become as good as her quickly so that they could share the stage and sing a duet together. Cecilia was not only a great singer, she was also a very beautiful woman who rather reminded him of himself. Voluminous brown hair, hazel eyes, perfect full lips that were often pulled into an adorable pout, and a temper to match his, though she was a lot more graceful, not to mention a very sexy Sicilian accent. Most people didn't appreciate her accent, but Lovino just loved it. It made her words sound like poetry.
There was another thing about her that caught Lovino's attention, though, and not in a way that she would have found flattering. She had this beautiful necklace that she always wore. It was small and not very gaudy, except for the fact that was made of gold and diamonds. Lovino was quite certain that they were real and had to wonder how an opera singer could afford such fine jewellery. Did Bonnefoy really pay experienced sopranos that well? Because he sure hadn't promised a fortune to Lovino!
It suddenly occurred to him that maybe Cecilia was closer to Bonnefoy than would be considered strictly professional and that the necklace had been a gift from the lecher. It wasn't a stretch to imagine that Bonnefoy had an affair with one of his employees and favoured her. He didn't know if Cecilia was that kind of woman, but then, he didn't know much about her.
Not that he cared. The point was that necklace. It didn't matter how she had got it; the fact was that it must be worth a fortune. If only Lovino could get his hands on it, he would definitely get part of his debt to Il Sadico paid. He didn't like the idea of stealing from such a pretty lady - it was different from convincing love-struck girls to donate more money to church - especially when said lady was his colleague and they were bound to see each other on a regular basis now.
But he was a desperate man. The memory of his little "job" for Il Sadico was still fresh in his mind. No, he didn't want to go through that ever again. Besides, it was entirely possible that future tasks would be even worse. Maybe Il Sadico would even start ordering him to actually kill people. No, that kind of life wasn't for him. He may not be exactly a saint, and he may have done some questionable things in his life, but he couldn't let himself sink that low, couldn't let things get that far. He needed to put a stop to it before he was beyond salvation. And if he had to steal a little necklace in order to avoid doing much worse things, then so be it. A necklace was replaceable, after all. She would get over its loss and get a new one. Lovino couldn't say the same for his life, or his sanity.
He was in the middle of another rehearsal - or, perhaps more accurately, singing lesson. This time it was just him, Bonnefoy, and his co-stager for this scene, so he thought he was doing a little better. Bonnefoy was still very encouraging and didn't even interrupt him too often for feedback. His co-worker, however, didn't seem to share his enthusiasm.
Like pretty much all the other singers, she didn't approve of the director's choice for the male lead. She wasn't as vocal about it as the others, and so far she had been trying to go along with Bonnefoy's idea and act professionally, but she was obviously growing impatient. When Lovino failed to keep up with her in a series of notes, she finally snapped.
"I can't work like this," she said, shaking her head and walking away from Lovino to stand next to Bonnefoy. "At this rate, he's going to rub off on me and I'll get worse instead of improve."
"Come now, my dear Cecilia, aren't you being too harsh? He's not that bad! And he's making so much progress so fast!" said Bonnefoy in that irritating, condescending tone of his. With a lazy smile, he shook his finger at her and added, "Just look at that cute face. I dare you to look at those kicked-puppy eyes and tell him to his face he's no good. Go on."
She looked at him. Lovino wished she hadn't, because right now his face must look an undignified red blotch. He wasn't "cute" and he didn't look like a kicked puppy, dammit! He was a handsome, manly man who could very well take a piece of criticism without getting hurt, thank you very much!
Or at least that was what he wished to believe, but it was hard to when Cecilia's expression softened as if she really were looking at a cute kicked puppy. Ugh.
"You have potential, I'll give you that," she said. "But you still have much to learn."
Grudgingly, Lovino nodded in agreement. As much as he wanted to get angry at her, he knew that she was speaking the truth. Unlike some of the other sings, Cecilia wasn't mean-spirited; she just tended to be brutally honest. And he did respect her opinion, for he could not deny the fact that Cecilia was a brilliant opera singer, with years of experience on top of her natural talent. He wondered if she had ever been like him - insecure about singing in public, making mistakes, taking constant criticism from other singers. He hoped she had been, because then he would know there was a chance that someday he would be as good as her.
He was not going to lie to himself. He would love to become as good as her quickly so that they could share the stage and sing a duet together. Cecilia was not only a great singer, she was also a very beautiful woman who rather reminded him of himself. Voluminous brown hair, hazel eyes, perfect full lips that were often pulled into an adorable pout, and a temper to match his, though she was a lot more graceful, not to mention a very sexy Sicilian accent. Most people didn't appreciate her accent, but Lovino just loved it. It made her words sound like poetry.
There was another thing about her that caught Lovino's attention, though, and not in a way that she would have found flattering. She had this beautiful necklace that she always wore. It was small and not very gaudy, except for the fact that was made of gold and diamonds. Lovino was quite certain that they were real and had to wonder how an opera singer could afford such fine jewellery. Did Bonnefoy really pay experienced sopranos that well? Because he sure hadn't promised a fortune to Lovino!
It suddenly occurred to him that maybe Cecilia was closer to Bonnefoy than would be considered strictly professional and that the necklace had been a gift from the lecher. It wasn't a stretch to imagine that Bonnefoy had an affair with one of his employees and favoured her. He didn't know if Cecilia was that kind of woman, but then, he didn't know much about her.
Not that he cared. The point was that necklace. It didn't matter how she had got it; the fact was that it must be worth a fortune. If only Lovino could get his hands on it, he would definitely get part of his debt to Il Sadico paid. He didn't like the idea of stealing from such a pretty lady - it was different from convincing love-struck girls to donate more money to church - especially when said lady was his colleague and they were bound to see each other on a regular basis now.
But he was a desperate man. The memory of his little "job" for Il Sadico was still fresh in his mind. No, he didn't want to go through that ever again. Besides, it was entirely possible that future tasks would be even worse. Maybe Il Sadico would even start ordering him to actually kill people. No, that kind of life wasn't for him. He may not be exactly a saint, and he may have done some questionable things in his life, but he couldn't let himself sink that low, couldn't let things get that far. He needed to put a stop to it before he was beyond salvation. And if he had to steal a little necklace in order to avoid doing much worse things, then so be it. A necklace was replaceable, after all. She would get over its loss and get a new one. Lovino couldn't say the same for his life, or his sanity.