Chapter 2
“Chiara, wake up. The flight is in six hours, and you’re still not done packing,” shouts Lorenzo from the hallway, automatically awaking me up.
I look around, and my room is full of boxes and suitcases.
Today we are finally finishing the organization of our move to London.
Mom and Grannie went to London two weeks ago for business and took care of finding the perfect place for me and my friends to live in.
It’s a four-bedroom penthouse in the One Hyde Park residential block, a very nice spacious apartment in a good and specially safe neighborhood.
I fell in love with it as soon as I saw the glass wall in the living room with the spectacular city view.
I can’t shake this hopeful feeling of starting my life from scratch from the beginning, study fashion like I dreamt, and have fun without thinking of the consequences.
Getting in the Central Saint Martins University of the Arts London is definitely an honor and a dream come true.
I quickly get up, tie my hair, put on some jeans and, a sweatshirt, my trainers, and go downstairs.
When I get to the hall, I find my friends and my brothers next to mom and Grannie.
“So, if you haven’t completely packed, then hurry up to finish and ask the bodyguards to put them in the car,” Mom says this while pointing at the men standing at the entrance.
“As soon as we arrive in London, there’ll be a team to take the boxes to the apartment.
The decoration and the furniture are already there, so all we have to do is make sure everything is ready to go.
If possible, we’ll come back tomorrow, so you can make the most with the holiday time that you have left; now, let’s make that happen.
” Everyone goes to do what’s been asked.
I head to the library; I’m basically packed, but now I think I want to take more books to feel at home.
***
The suitcases and boxes are placed in the family’s private jet.
Mom and Grannie are giving the orders without a stop, they want to be on time, and it’s taking longer than expected to put the luggage away.
I get inside the jet accompanied by my siblings and friends, sit, and look outside.
I feel someone sitting next to me and smile, recognizing that smell of perfume coming from Lorenzo.
I lean my head on his shoulders, and he leaves a kiss on my hair.
“Is this really the right choice? I’m scared of messing it up…
” I mumble it so no one ears it, looking outside, so I avoid looking my brother in the eyes.
As I utter these words, a wave of anxiety hits me, and I ask myself if I can survive these years far away if I’ll be good enough to be a designer, and if I want to disappoint everyone that I love.
I get short of breath for a moment and feel the lungs tighten.
I desperately need to pull for air; I try to do it steadily so I don’t go inside my anxiety spiral; the small breathing doesn’t work, and I feel my eyes watering.
I close them swiftly, still facing the window.
One single tear lightly drops down my cheek, and I ignore the will to quickly wipe it.
Now, abruptly breathe in the air again. I feel Lorenzo’s eyes on me, but I try not to show it.
“You’ll never mess up anything, at least I doubt it, and even if it happens, I’ll be here for all of it.
And if you fall, I can make the sky fall, but you can be certain that I will help you get back up again!
” I lean even more and feel him hugging me.
I feel safe, and I’m scared to not ever feel like this after I move.
“Besides, it’s not a mistake following your dreams; don’t even think about giving up, Chiara, and if you ever feel like it’s to, hard to bare, let some of that weight fall on my shoulders; that’s what brothers are for! ”
A tear drops down my face, and I smile, snugging up on my older brother’s arm and falling asleep.
I didn’t realize when we departed. Waking up with Lorenzo moving, I look at him smiling at me, one of those that hits the eye, pointing at the jet’s small window.
I give him a quick kiss on the cheek and turn in that direction.
For moments, I lose my breath, and my heart misses a beat, my stomach flinches, and feel the usual butterflies that always show up when I’m excited or frightened.
I can’t see to know which one I’m feeling right now; maybe both.
London is breathtaking from above, and acknowledging that it will be my home for a long time gives me goosebumps than run my whole body; it was always a dream to study in London since the first time I met this city.
I fantasied studying and living with my friends like Grannie Daisy did, only the fact of living in her hometown brings a sweet taste in this new chapter of my life; who knows, one day, I’ll become as special and accomplished person as she is.
I always wanted to be like her, her talent, elegance, grace, and, above all, her beauty.
Grannie Daisy was glaring when she was my age, still is, and always seemed like she was better than anyone and the most humble, too.
I’ve always wanted to be like that, but I’m not like that, not in her natural way, not making everyone love me like she does, so I started to hurt instead of being hurt.
It worked for a while, but not anymore. This is a new beginning, a new opportunity to be what I wish to be.
Once we land and leave the jet, London offers a grey view with a drizzle.
I smile, feeling the smell of wet ground.
For some reason, ever since I was a child, the smell of rain has always comforted me, maybe because it’s melancholy and sad, like I felt a lot of times after my parents’ divorce.
The rain is where I felt more free, where I could run without anyone chasing me, where I could cry without no one noticing.
I nod, denying the umbrella offered to me, and leave the jet, feeling my clothes getting wet little by little.
I’m happy with the sensation of comfort and watch the drops from the sky fall on my face.
I observe the grey clouds with their calming beauty, which makes you want to go inside the house and just simply rest while staring at the raindrops.
I get in the car without saying a word. I lean toward the window and watch the rain fall from the outside the whole way to the apartment.
When we enter, we’re graced with a mess of boxes and people going around trying to organize everything.
I head to my new bedroom and check the walls, newly painted in lavender, smiling as I notice the stuffed bench next to the big window, the perfect corner to read; the furniture is still in the middle of being assembled, just the bed in the center being completely done.
There’s a soft knock on the door; I turn briskly; my mom’s assistant indicates the workers that hold my vanity.
I signal them in as I check the white vanity with golden details being placed on the floor.
Once it’s put on its place, the two men leave the room and come back a few minutes later with a desk.
I look around me and notice everything starting to take shape.
I reach from the floor a large frame of me and my brothers on my birthday hugging in the Funfair, not failing to see how happy we look.
“Honey, we have to start tidying your closet.” I hear Grannie and shudder slightly with the sound; I look at her and smile, following her there.
When we entered, we were faced with boxes and boxes full of clothes and shoes.
I sighed loudly, making my grandma smile, and together, we started to organize everything in its place.
***
After two hours, the closet is finally organized, making me smile happily—a smile that immediately dies when I notice the boxes of books arranged on the floor of my room, waiting to be placed on the shelf.
I look around me, and only the books, makeup, and school supplies are out of place; I immediately put my hands to work and organize my books in alphabetical order, then tidy my makeup and perfumes.
When I finally finish putting my things in order, night has already fallen.
I look out the window and have at my disposal the illuminated London for a view.
I smile, closing the blinds and turning the lights off, looking up for being graced by a ceiling full of purple stars, slightly shining through the room. Now, I feel at home.
Two days after arriving in London, I boarded the family’s private jet toward Rome to spend a few days with my dad; as soon as we arrived, a car was waiting and took us straight to Salvatore Weapons, one of the family businesses that my dad manages.
We head to the CEO’s room, where Dad is sitting in his imposing chair in the center of the room, talking on the phone while enjoying the panoramic view of Rome.
Lorenzo makes a sound in his throat, causing Dad to turn his chair and smile in our direction, saying goodbye at once and coming to meet us.
I hug him tightly, and he leaves a kiss on my head, hugging my brothers next.
I stop and stare the large and well-decorated room; I remember coming to the firm and playing in the corner of this room when I was a child, climbing my dad’s legs so I could sit on his lap and enjoy the city view.
I turn to the glass wall and smile, admiring my hometown; I missed this place more than I imagined.