He Looks So Fine, Part Two (Colette International #4)

1. Tomorrow

1

TOMORROW

T omorrow was Alberto’s birthday. On Monday night, it was on everybody’s lips. “Look at him.” “Look at the birthday boy.” “Turning eighteen at last?”

How old are you, Alberto?

“Third time’s the charm,” he told a faded agent, and she said, “Wonderful, wonderful.” No one ever listened.

Of course, now that he’d turn eighteen, a new chapter of his life was to begin. Adulthood, at last. Now, he’d get to look forward to that long, empty rail track stretching ahead of him. Him and Mamma against the world, as always.

Alberto snuck away from the cocktail party occurring in his living room and took refuge in the kitchen with Dina.

“I got you a gift,” she said, putting a small package in his hand. They exchanged a brief hug.

Dina wasn’t very talkative, but she was really kind. Sometimes, she would let Alberto sit at the kitchen island to do his homework. They would watch hoity-toity period dramas together, and Stasia could do nothing about it because Dina always kept an eye on her knives.

He opened the box, his lip curling. “Is this what we talked about two weeks ago?”

She nodded. “I was glad when you finally asked. It was about time. You know what I always say: you never know what can happen tomorrow. ”

“True.” Alberto clutched the small USB device in his hand. The label on it said 2GB. It wasn’t much, but it should be enough.

Dina gently put her hand on his shoulder. “Be careful, angel.”

Alberto murmured his thanks and turned to leave, but she added, “That boyfriend of yours… he’s very nice-looking.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” he protested, but his cheeks burned at the thought.

It did not surprise Alberto that Dina knew he liked men. After all, you couldn’t watch the same programs together without showing a little preference for one type or another. Alberto’s tastes probably amused Dina. She once said a sign of emotional maturity was when one stopped drooling over the bad boy type. Clearly, Alberto wasn’t there yet; Mathias was exactly his thing.

Alas, after yesterday… Alberto felt nothing but regret over what happened at the museum. The first time Mathias knelt down before him, looking even more striking than Belmondo’s sculptures, and Alberto couldn’t even get it up. Indeed, he never got over the shock of seeing him here, of finding him athisworst. Every word Alberto uttered yesterday had been at gunpoint, the weapon held at his temple by his very own hand.

If only Mathias hadn’t attempted to look into his eyes, that time after Xavier’s brunch. If only he’d turned him over like he always did, then Alberto wouldn’t have fallen apart like a fragile house of cards. Too many things had happened in one afternoon, too many memories itching to resurface, too many doors to keep watch over and ensure they remained locked. An impossible endeavour with Mathias’s burning eyes peering straight into his soul.

When Alberto woke up the next morning, he was eighteen years old, and when he returned from his shower, his outfit for the day was missing. Stasia was standing in the doorway, holding his clothes and laughing at his clueless expression. He chased after her around the first floor in his bathrobe. She ran into her former bedroom and stood in front of the closet.

“Happy birthday, Albertino.”

He waved his hand impatiently. “Give it back.”

“I will, if you kiss me.”

He hesitated. If he did, she’d let him go faster, but if he gave in again, he’d feel bad about it all day. He did it anyway. Smacking his lips against her cold cheek, he either missed or was tricked, and he ended up kissing the corner of her mouth. She gave his clothes back with a laugh at his disgruntled face. Alberto returned to his bedroom and fell back on his bed with all his weight. “I swear, you’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Don’t lie, Britney,” Stasia said in a falsely concerned tone. “What would your daddy say?”

Alberto clenched his fists until his nails pierced the skin of his palms. “Will you get out now?”

She folded her arms over her chest.“No.”

“Stasia,” he warned, and the steadiness of his voice surprised him.

“Uh-uh.”

“Get out!”

Her pale-blue eyes turned as black as her soul. “You’re raising your voice now?”

Alberto leaned as far away as he could. “Please… I’m going to be late.”

“Uh, I know, silly. And I’m not moving. Your choice.”

Thatharpy. Alberto shrugged his bathrobe off and quickly got dressed while she watched with a little smile. He held her gaze with as much contempt as he could muster; she giggled, and when he was struggling to jump into his trousers, she landed a slap on his arse that resounded throughout the bedroom.

“Oops!” She pouted. “Sorry.”

She’d been on his case the entire week. Without a boyfriend to suffer her antics, it all fell on him. She had sensed him weaker than usual after he returned from Mathias’s, and she immediately burrowed her way in and launched enough attacks that he became too tired to move. She’d been so relentless, he had to revert to his old habits, even giving up the thought of getting out of bed. Because of her, he didn’t get to see Mathias. Because of her, he even turned into a limp-dick idiot who let the best thing that ever happened to him slip between his fingers. It was all because ofher.

His throat burning, his body shaking, Alberto forced himself to draw a deep breath. He had money, he had an escape plan, and he had a future, somewhere, waiting for him. He wouldn’t surrender to the darkest thoughts he sometimes had in his heart. He was eighteen now, and he was no longer a child for people to torment at will. Soon, he would be free…

“What are you doing?”

Alberto and Stasia both spun around with a start. Mamma stood in the doorway, holding a garment bag, looking impeccable in her white Prada dress. Her steely eyes, often cold to the world — but never to him — were fixed on Stasia.

“Wishing him a happy birthday.” The Devil always reacted fast. Wrapping her arms around Alberto, she held him tight.

“You’re sweet,” Mamma said, her lip twitching.

Now that Stasia was satisfied she had ruined Alberto’s morning, she quickly left for her Pilates lesson in her little Porsche, and Alberto was left to sit awkwardly next to Mamma on his bed.

“You worry me sometimes…” she said in a tired voice.

Alberto feigned innocence. “Why?”

“You and her. I feel like something is going on that I’m not aware of.”

“No.” Alberto shook his head. “We’re just friends.”

Mamma smelled divine; her floral perfume transported him back to the gilded mirror in the villa in Napoli, to the polished tiles, to the costume parties, their favourite dance…

Mamma caressed his cheek, breaking the spell. “You used to tell me things, once.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

It wasn’t even a lie. Even if Alberto wanted to speak, he wouldn’t know how to begin. Mamma waited for him to add something, and when he didn’t, she opened the garment bag with a sigh.

“It’s just an Armani.”

Mamma cut the label from the fancy boutique the suit came from with her brand new pair of scissors — gifted by Dimitri. The glint of the silver almost blinded him. Alberto blinked at the suit and admitted it was stunning. Obsidian black and perfectly tailored, he knew already how good he’d look in it, and he would have loved to flaunt it before Mathias. Look at me, am I not a vision in this? Something must have flickered in his eyes, because Mamma’s expression turned mournful. She put the suit down and scooted to the edge of the bed, and with her long fingers, she brushed Alberto’s hair back, the way she used to when he was little.

“Don’t you like it?”

“I do. It’s perfect.”

“ You’re perfect.”

Shame coiled around Alberto’s stomach like a snake. He shook his head.

“You are so beautiful,” Mamma insisted.

“You’re beautiful, too. ”

She smiled. “Beauty is all the more striking when it’s also coming from the inside.”

Alberto wouldn’t hear this. He sunk his teeth into his lip and turned away from her.

“ Tesoro ,” she said softly, “do you like modelling?”

“It’s okay.”

“Do you understand what it means for people like us?”

He glanced back, but he didn’t answer.

“Freedom,” Mamma said, and there was life in her eyes. “When they found me, they liberated me. That’s what this job can mean to you, too. Independence, travel, money, connections… Fame and glory, if you want them. All of this and more. You must understand that right now, you are living your best years.”

“Your career was over at my age.”

“Yes, but you… if you play your cards right…”

“I’ll do it, Mamma, I’ll do it. I’m doing it right now.”

Alberto’s mother gave him a searching look. “I can see you’re doing it, but you seem to take no pleasure in it.”

“It’s just a job.”

“ Just a job ?” Pain flashed in her eyes, making Alberto regret his words.

Mamma never concealed from him she grew up very poor on the outskirts of Parma. Her family dealt in blows, not embraces, and she spent her childhood in abject terror, avoiding hits not only from her parents but also her brothers. She only survived by playing her old VHS tape of An Impudent Girl over and over until it fell apart and dreaming, like its heroine, of leaving her dreary village behind and moving to Rome — or even better, Paris.

Accidentally named after a goddess, it soon became clear she also had the appearance of one. When a scout discovered her at the country fair, he took her away from her horrible life and propelled her to stardom just as she reached puberty. Her career was stellar, but it was to be a short one. Before her nineteenth birthday, with a newborn son to raise, she was removed from public life, her career never to start again.

“This job, as you call it, saved my life, and it gave me everything I could dream of.” Mamma’s voice was trembling. “And all I ever wanted was the same… for you.”

“I know…”

“That’s why I wanted you to start early?—”

“I know. ”

“And I know I’ve made a mistake?—”

“Mamma…”

“And I don’t want to make that same mistake again.” Her eyes shone with grief but also determination. “If you don’t like it, if you don’t want it, just tell me, and you won’t have to do it again. You don’t have to…” She ran her hand through his hair. “… to do such things, you don’t have to go so far.”

“I want to do it.” He wanted the money, the independence. Fame and glory, he would leave those to the others. “For now.”

“In that case…” Mamma brought him close and hugged him tight to her chest. “Happy birthday, my love.”

He held her back. When he’d be free from Stasia, Mamma would hopefully follow him, and it would be just the two of them for the first time ever. He didn’t need anybody else.

“I’m going to be late,” he muttered, breaking away.

Mamma released him reluctantly. “You used to love it when we hugged.”

“I was a child.”

“You’re still my baby.”

Alberto looked away. “I know.”

He took the suit and hung it in the walking closet. Mamma remained on the bed. “Alberto…” she called. “Where were you during the holidays?”

The fact that she used his name gave him pause. He pretended to adjust some hangers in the closet to avoid looking at her.

“With a friend.”

“With a friend…” Mamma didn’t sound convinced. “ Tesoro , talk to me.”

Alberto turned around and faced her. “There really isn’t anything to say. Only that I had fun, and that I was safe. Very safe,” he added at the sight of her narrowed eyes.

“And when am I going to meet your friend? At your birthday party, maybe?”

He let out a dry laugh. “That thing next week isn’t my birthday party. It’s another excuse for Dimitri to show off. It has nothing to do with me.”

“You’re being unfair.” Mamma got up and handed him his backpack. “If you’d invite your friends, it would be about you.”

He thanked her with a half-smile. “I’ll think about it.”

There it was. The first lie of the rest of his life .

Alberto glimpsed him when he walked past the school gates: Mathias in football gear. He appeared to be in a bad mood, very nice, very sexy. And his arse in those shorts… Alberto stared a little too long, only to meet Eric’s incredulous frown. It’s my birthday, Lassie. Give me a break.

When he took his seat in Paquin’s class, Zak expressed his best wishes, grinning from ear to ear.

Alberto frowned at him. “How do you know it’s my birthday?”

The grin vanished, replaced by a deep flush. “You must have told me?”

I told you nothing , Alberto thought with bitterness, but he forced a small smile. It was Zak, after all.

“Stalker,” he said.

His jest wasn’t interpreted as such. Zak seemed embarrassed, and he didn’t look his way until Paquin kicked Alberto out for falling asleep again.

It seemed he was to make a habit of this after all. Alberto accepted his teacher’s note for Van Bergen without a word and dragged himself to his office one slow step after another to stall for time. When he got there, he came upon Mathias’s sister closing the door with a grimace.

“You don’t want to go in there,” she said.

“Not really, no,” Alberto replied honestly.

If she was afraid to go in, then he wouldn’t last a second. Everyone knew Van Bergen considered Elisa Rodin to be his favourite. Why else would he have given hercarte blancheas well as her own office — seriously — to write and publish her paper?

“No, I mean, you don’t…” She waved both her hands. “Never mind. Do you needhim?”

“Sort of. Paquin kicked me out again.”

“Oh yeah, I heard she does that.” She pointed to the empty detention room next door. “You better wait for him in here.”

“Thanks.” He entered the classroom, dropped his backpack onto a table, then turned back to Elisa with a frown. “What the hell is this?”

Notes from some horrible song were coming from a portable CD player encased in a clear box on the lone teacher’s desk. Elisa perched herself next to it and knocked on the case with a smile. “That’sCher!”

“I can hear that, but why?”

She flung her thumb over her shoulder. “His idea of torture, I assume? Those who end up in detention must listen to‘Believe’ byCher. On repeat.”

Alberto gave a resigned sigh. “Save yourself, then. Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Nope. I’m on paper business.”

“Of course.” He awkwardly sat down on an opposite table, so he wouldn’t tower over her so much, while Elisa watched him, her feet swinging back and forth.

“Haven’t seen you in a while.”

And after yesterday, you probably won’t see me outside of school again, Alberto thought with a sinking heart. But he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it in front of Elisa. She waspress, after all. He was about to give her a dumb excuse, but his group of fangirls walked by the classroom and got excited at the sight of him.

“Hi, Alberto!” “You look nice today!” “Hope you had a nice Christmas!”

Elisa waited for them to be gone and turned to Alberto, her mouth agape. “Do they…”

“Every day.”

“They don’t mean anything bad, you know. They just find you irresistible.”

Gorgeous enough to bring the world to its feet.

Alberto clung to the edges of the table. “I don’t like that word.”

“Why?”

“It makes it sound like… like it’s my fault, somehow.”

Elisa winced at the chorus of“Believe” before asking, “Why don’t you put your foot down, tell them they make you uncomfortable? Kindly, of course, but?—”

Alberto scoffed. “I did! It didn’t work. And that’s not really the problem.”

“Then, what’s the problem?”

“How is it on me to make them better people? Why does everyone assume it’s my duty to tell all the crazies not to act on their urges? I’m not their parents or their therapists. Even if they can’t take a hint from how uncomfortable I look, I shouldn’t have to stop whatever I’m doing to teach them basic decency.”

They’d never attempted to put themselves in his shoes, not even for a second. Or else why would they keep at it? Alberto had even resorted to hiding in the infirmary just to avoid feeling their eyes on him. How could he not resent them ?

Elisa reflected on his words with a thoughtful expression. “It’s weird. Everyone wants to be as good-looking as you, but you act like you don’t like it, like it’s a burden. It doesn’t make any sense to most people. In fact, it makes us feel like you’re faking it. And we… I mean, people don’t like that false modesty stuff.”

“Whatever,” Alberto mumbled. “I don’t need them to like me.”

Except that was a lie. He did want one person to like him. Only one. The rest could get lost, along with all the others who made the simple act of looking at his own face a challenge.

“Bull… shit,” Elisa said, in a perfect imitation of her brother. “Everybody needs people. You do, too. Why did you date Zak if you didn’t need him?”

“You—”

“I’ve noticed,” she added haughtily. “Zak has the most kissable face in the entire school, and I’ve never seen you do so much as pecking him on the cheek. So, either you wanted to hurt Eric, or…”

Alberto’s eyes narrowed. “I wanted to hurt Eric.”

“And this! This thing you do!”

“What?”

“I’m never sure whether you’re telling the truth or you’re just fucking with me.”

Alberto couldn’t help but laugh. “You are very foul-mouthed for a fifteen-year-old girl.”

Elisa smirked. “You should have heard my mother. She even had aSailor Moonoutfit that said Sailor Mouth . It was a whole thing.” She checked the time on the clock behind her and slid down the desk. “Alberto Gazza, I’m sorry I called you a sexist pig. I can see why you would feel a bit… harassed.”

“Thanks…” Alberto blinked at her, at a loss for words. He tried to find something equally meaningful to say. “I’m sorry I said you were objectifying Zak. You’re actually… nice.”

“Yeah?” She beamed. “Nice?”

“Too bad Zak is in love with that guy , or he would have liked you.”

“Pff!” Elisa pranced toward the exit. “I gave Eric a hard time in my paper, and he reacted like a champ! He’s great. And since he’s great, I’m happy for Zak.”

“I know,” Alberto said. “Me too.”

She stopped as she reached the doorway. “Should I send my brother to rescue you?”

Alberto’s shoulders dropped. He wondered what would be worse: Mathias never giving him another chance — as he feared right now — or him charging into the classroom, renewing his offer to go down on him, only for Alberto to get all limp on him again.

“I’ll be okay,” he muttered, but when she was gone, he looked around the room at all the empty tables, and his heart felt heavy in his chest. “I’m eighteen now.”