Parties are no longer what they used to be for Victoria. What used to be fun, music, dancing with her friends and meeting new people every night, are now just an excuse to get drunk, smoke substances of dubious origin from time to time and frequently arguments with the people she used to laugh with. It's not her fault, but things are very different since Max is no longer in her life.

Victoria constantly feels as if a sad song is playing in the background. She sits on the stool near the bar, barely paying attention to the music and focusing her attention on the drink in front of her. She doesn't even know what it is, but deep down she knows she'll end up forgetting that night completely, which is just what she seems to need... always.

She feels guilty at times because she knows that her mood affects the performance of the band and the behaviour of her colleagues and friends. So during the day she does her best to hide the urge to go to bed, picks up the bass, goes to the studio with the boys, follows the instructions they give her to compose like a robot, looks at the clock out of the corner of her eye, hoping it's time to go, and when they return to the villa, she grabs a beer and sits on the couch, again waiting for nightfall to be alone and let her thoughts run wild.

She doesn't think she has fallen into depression, as many of her behaviours suggest, but she does know that she has never before been so sad about matters of the heart. Leaving Francesca had been a stab in the heart for being her first love, but now she feels as if her heart has been taken, ripped out and only a huge emptiness remains in her chest. Victoria knows that in another time, in other circumstances perhaps, she would have dared to laugh at how devastated she is by a girl she has known for only a few months.

Her sadness is compounded by other things, like the frustration she feels at being a burden to Maneskin while she is not at her best; the anger she feels at herself for not being able to translate her sadness into songwriting as Damiano does; the desperation every time she opens her social media and however much she avoids it the first thing that comes up is something about Max (for her mental health she should really consider stopping following accounts related to her ex-girlfriend); the impotence of knowing that in the end she will never be able to do anything to get her back because it was she herself who put an end to that ephemeral relationship.

"Sometimes different is good," Damiano's words still haunt her head from that very night. What was the boy referring to? Was he rejoicing in the fate of the two girls, one catapulted to fame and seemingly the happiest in the world, while the other sank deeper and deeper into sadness? No, it couldn't be that. Damiano is her best friend, and even though he is also Max's friend (however much their relationship has cooled down), Victoria knows he would never betray her like that. Victoria decides to think he's referring to her new physical appearance and that the weather in Los Angeles is much better than in London.

Victoria barely recognises herself. She's in Hungary, in the middle of what should be the party of the year, surrounded by famous people with whom she could have so many conversations and all she wants to do is get out of there because her eyes won't stop looking for Max (and they won't stop finding her anywhere).

She looks gorgeous. It's no surprise, as she confesses to her in the bathroom during the event, but Victoria thinks she's the prettiest girl she's ever seen. The way she smiles makes the Italian woman's chest rip open, both because she thinks she's not the reason for those magical smiles and because she thinks Max is happy, she's rebuilt her life away from her and doesn't need her half as much as Victoria needs her. The simple reminder that Max has a good life without her makes even the music, the reason for which she is so happy, the reason why she is where she is... no longer make sense.

"It will pass."

Damiano approaches the bar and with a gesture asks the bartender for a drink. He takes the stool next to her, barely glancing at her, waiting for the scotch on the rocks he's ordered. "What?" Victoria wants to know what he means.

"You know. The feeling."

Victoria finds it strange that Damiano would treat with such levity what she feels so strongly about. He sips the whiskey almost in one gulp and Victoria wonders if there's something wrong with Damiano too.

"Maybe I don't want it to pass," is all Victoria replies, stirring the cocktail she's ordered. Acknowledging it out loud is hard, but harder is acknowledging it in front of Damiano, in front of the boy she's tried so many times to be strong in front of and failed in the attempt.

"Maybe it's for the best."

She finds her friend's words so harsh that she cranes her neck quickly to realise that she has indeed heard what she has heard. "What?" the blonde repeats again.

"How long have you been like this, Victoria? Three months? Four? It's no use trying to hide the truth from us, to say you're better, to fake smiles now and then to pretend that everything is fine. We know each other too well to know it's not true, Victoria. And I feel sorry for you, I really do, I hate to see you so sad and so dull and so... I don't know. It's just not you. And I kind of hate Max for making you feel that way," Victoria goes to speak, but Damiano cuts her off. "But it's not Max's fault. She's not the one who did this. You left her, Victoria. Maybe that's precisely why it's already a good time to stop creeping around like a ghost and accept reality."

"It wasn't going to work," Victoria growls under her breath. She knows perfectly well that it's her fault, that she dumped Max on WhatsApp only to block her later in a desperate attempt to never hear from her again. But she didn't count on the fact that her success and fame would skyrocket and she'd see her everywhere beyond her thoughts and imagination.

"You didn't let her prove it," Damiano exhales the smoke from his cigarette and stubs it out. "By that I don't mean it was going to be easy. She was going to be sent to the US, you were going to stay in Rome, probably until we started the new tour. Fuck, it was probably going to be the hardest shit ever with the schedules, the work, the interviews, the gigs. But you let her go before you even tried. And that's your fault. It was your decision, Vic. Now what? You have a lot of options, but letting the hours and days go by like you're dead isn't the wisest one."

"Is it possible to die of love?" Victoria says, and she surprises herself at the fragility of her words. More than dying of love, she means of being heartbroken.

"I have yet to see someone it's happened to," Damiano replies. "The last time you broke with someone it was Francesca, and I remind you that you were heartbroken too. But you decided to take all that pain and turn it into music. Now what?" the Italian repeats.

"Now I don't even like music. I don't feel what I play. I don't feel that what I compose is any good. I'm sad all the time, and I feel like the remedy is as easy as it is impossible. I miss how I felt when I was with her. I'd have a bad day and just seeing her would cure everything. If I got a chord wrong she would shake her head and give me the thumbs up, cheering from behind the glass. If I had an argument with any of you she would always tell me the truth, no matter how much it hurt, but she always tried to understand and take my side. There's no good part in anything now, Damiano. I've lost everything. She's taken everything and I don't know how I'm going to get it back again."

Damiano sighs. He knows the situation is bad, but he doesn't know how bad. In reality his words are only meant to motivate his friend to get out of the hole of sadness in which she finds herself, but he doesn't believe the coldness with which he speaks. He scans the room with his eyes, illuminated by red and blue laser beams from time to time, projecting to the rhythm of the music, and it's not long before he finds Max surrounded by people. Lately it's hard to see her in a photo alone, and Damiano wonders if she's really happy like this. If the life she leads in Los Angeles is really what the Max she met in that hotel in London would have liked.

"Aren't you ever going to talk to her again?"

"Are you out of your mind? We haven't spoken in months. I don't think it's something that's going to change now," Victoria sips through the straw and grimaces as the bitter alcohol comes into contact with her tongue. "Besides, it's not like she's bothered trying to talk to me either."

Damiano arches his eyebrows. "If you dumped me via WhatsApp and then blocked me, believe me, I wouldn't be as diplomatic as Max has been."

"That's true," the blonde admits. "I probably would have burned her car if she'd done it to me."

"Well, that's just it. You have a chance today. Just today. You're in the same country, in the same room. It's only a couple of hours, but you have to seize this moment because it's not going to happen again. After today, she's going back to America and you're going home. No more chances, Vic."

"Are you crazy?" Victoria repeats again. "And what am I supposed to say to her? Hey, look, I'm sorry I left you like that. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you all this time, I'm still in love with you and I'd like you to give me a chance. She'd be stupid if she even listened to me."

"You're not going to get anywhere by torturing yourself, Vic. Talk to her. What have you got to lose? According to you, you've already lost everything. Talking to her will be the only way to find out how she feels. Maybe she'll tell you that she's forgotten you and wants nothing more to do with you," Damiano's words hurt like a dagger to the heart. "Or maybe she'll tell you that she's not happy in America, not as happy as she pretends to be, and that she still needs that thing that only you could give her. You'll never know unless you try," Damiano shrugs.

"I don't think I can talk to her without bursting into tears. Or without being able to stop myself from wanting to touch her, or kiss her. I see her and I don't know if it's still her, or if she's changed and it's just the memory I have of her."

"So talking to her is the best decision. You can realise that she is no longer the person you fell in love with months ago, and therefore find out that what you idealise in your head is no longer what you want. Or you can verify that the Max you know and love is still in there, even though her appearance has changed, and then you can decide whether you want to fight for her or let her go for good. But it's time to make a decision, Vic. I can't let this get to you any more or you'll fuck it all up because of how you feel at twenty-two."

Victoria knows Damiano is right, and she curses him for it. Suddenly a new strength takes over her body, and she pats herself on the back for not having drunk hardly any alcohol that night. As if on cue, as if the universe has conspired that she has to talk to Max that night and seal the situation once and for all.

The boy smiles as Victoria gets off her stool and makes her way through the crowd, ready to find the English girl. She doesn't know where she's going to find her or with whom or what she's doing, or even if she'll be sober enough to want to talk —with her— but Victoria knows she has to try. Suddenly, the sad song playing in the background at the bar becomes something motivating, something that gives her the strength to push a group of people out of her way and catch a glimpse of Max in the distance.

It's inevitable that her heart leaps every time she sees her. It's no longer just the physical part, it's that in her heart all the feelings she felt just by her presence come to the surface. She loves her and misses her, and hopes the brunette will return those feelings.

Max is dancing animatedly with two other girls. Their backs are to Victoria and she can't see who they are, but she assumes that one is her friend who has accompanied her to Hungary, Ana, and the other is a singer whose music Victoria probably doesn't hear. Victoria and Max's styles are very different, but the blonde listens to her music in the hope of finding the brunette in one of the verses.

Their eyes meet in the half-light, and Max notices Victoria's gaze permanently on her, while the brunette has to double-check that the Italian does indeed require her presence. Max's smile freezes on her face but does not disappear completely, as if she is surprised that Victoria is there in front of her, a few metres away after such a long time.

Victoria tilts her head knowing that even if she speaks to her, Max won't hear her. "Let's go there," the Italian mutters, hoping Max will be able to read her lips. The Englishwoman seems to think about it for a few seconds, but finally ends up moving closer to her companions' ears, leaving the glass for them to keep safe. Victoria notices Ana's gaze on them, and although she knows she's not meant to be watchful, she does feel a warning in her eyes.

"Hi," is the first thing Victoria says, though she doesn't manage to make it sound very good and takes it as a second chance to speak without sounding stupid. "You've been amazing tonight."

Max smiles a small, if slightly strained, smile. "Thank you. You too. As always. Mammamia sounds great live," Max adds to the blonde's silence.

They turn up the music from the DJ booth, announcing that it's the birthday of one of the attendees and that the song chosen to celebrate is one by a famous singer whose name Victoria can't remember now (it doesn't help that Max's blue eyes are locked deep into hers). "I... wanted to—"

"What? I can't hear you."

"I wanted to talk to you," Victoria tries to make herself heard over the music, but it's no easy task. She unconsciously approaches the Englishwoman, who tenses a little at the proximity but relaxes when she realises her intentions. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh. I thought you'd said it all already."

The double meaning in Max's words hurt the blonde deeply, but she knows she deserves it. "I thought so, too. But... time passes, and I don't... I need to know the truth, Max. I need to know if you still... think about me. Because I do."

The brunette smiles sadly. "Victoria...," her name sounds so different on her lips now. "You were the one who decided to end it all. I'm not saying it was an easy decision but after all you have no right to come back like it's nothing. You didn't give us a chance to make it work. You didn't give me a chance to prove to you that I could make things right. Maybe it wouldn't have worked, that's true, but it was your decision to end it. Time has passed and now... things are different. I'm sure you'll find someone to make it work. You deserve it, Victoria."

"Tell me that everything you say is true. Tell me you don't want me anymore, don't need me anymore, don't think about me anymore. Tell me and I'll leave you alone."

Tears gather in Victoria's eyes and she finds it hard to swallow because of the feeling in her throat. Her heart doesn't know if it will stop beating any time soon or explode from the amount of pounding the blonde feels. "I don't want to hurt you. I'm sorry, Victoria," at that moment, the Italian's heart breaks into a thousand pieces and Max's follows suit.

Victoria can't believe what she's hearing. She refuses to believe that this is real. A crippling sense of anxiety grips her that she has made the worst mistake of her life at the age of twenty-two. She can feel her head spinning and even dizzy, and in an attempt to hold on to the little that gives her life meaning, she grabs Max's hand. "Please. I'll do anything. Anything," Victoria almost begs when she sees that Max is about to turn away. "I'll move to Los Angeles. I'll quit the band, the music, I don't care."

Max looks at her incredulously. "What?"

"What I just said," Victoria raises her voice to make herself heard over the music and the revelry. "I'll talk to them, they'll understand, it won't be hard to find another bassist."

"If you do that," Max gives her a stern look. "If you do that I'll stop talking to you forever."

"What? I'm doing it for you," Victoria corrects herself. "For us."

"There is no us anymore, Victoria," Max's words, again, feel like daggers to the heart, and Victoria thinks about how much she would give to hear her say 'Vic'. "You're not giving up music, not for me. You may not see it now, but you'd greatly regret what you've done. No one is worth enough to stop doing what you love. I didn't give up music for you either, did I?" Max's eyes sparkle in a way Victoria doesn't know, and now more than sad she feels hurt by her words.

"I didn't ask you to."

"Neither do I," Max sentences. "Quitting music is the worst decision you could ever make. Do yourself a favour and go back to Italy. Use everything you feel to compose. Sometimes we have to put our pain to work."

Victoria can't help but feel attacked by the brunette's words and rethinks whether she has made a good decision in approaching her to talk to her. The blonde instinctively recoils as she sees the people around her trying to pass; a part of her still remembers the necessary separation between Max and her so that people wouldn't get suspicious. The club is full of celebrities, however, and Victoria is convinced that many of them are keeping more scandalous secrets than Max and her. "I can make it work. Alright, I'll stay in Italy. But give me a chance to make it work. I know I was stupid not to give us the chance, but I was afraid I'd get even more hurt than I am now, Max. I was so panicked that you'd break my heart that I did it myself."

"It's not going to work, Victoria," and the blonde could swear she sees the Englishwoman's eyes glaze over. "I still have a contract to fulfil. And I remind you that I live where I live now because of that contract. And it's because of that contract that I will soon be releasing an album. You chose not to try and I chose to go to America. As much as they were forced choices, neither of us made the attempt to put the other us before music. Those choices speak for themselves. If there's one thing we have in common now, Victoria, it's music. We need to focus on that," Max forces a smile as people Victoria doesn't recognise try to push their way in. Then her gesture changes, and Victoria stifles the urge to pull her into her arms. "There is no us in this world, Vic."

Max shakes off the gentle, ephemeral grip Victoria had on her and loses herself in the crowd under the Italian's watchful gaze. The Englishwoman tries to avoid her, but is unable to hold back the sob that threatens to escape her throat. She wants to go home, not to the hotel in Budapest, not to her flat in Los Angeles, but to her home in London. She wants to go back to those four walls where she was so happy that she never thought she could be so unhappy.

She slyly wipes away the tears running down her cheeks before meeting Ana, whom she sees at the bar accompanied by two other girls who are also plus ones, and sees her having such a good time that she decides not to bother her and to lock herself in one of the bathrooms. She doesn't even want to know what those two boys are doing in the bathroom sink, or why they are laughing so loudly or shouting, so she sits down on the toilet and pulls the lock and immediately takes out her phone.

It's three past two in the morning in Budapest, so in Chicago it's a right time to talk.

Max decides to try her luck.

she's here. she's here and i'm panicking bc i thought i was over her. turns out i'm not lol

I don't get that 'lol', the phone lights up a few seconds later. Are you drunk?

no, that's the worst part. i added the 'lol' to ease the tension lol. see? anyway why are u awake

You're the one who messaged me, Connor replies. Victoria is there, you say? Didn't you know she was going to be there?

yeah i did. however i wasn't expecting to be so smitten again. i just broke her heart and i feel like throwing myself off the window.

What window?

you're right, I'm in the club, there are no windows.

Well, in case you need me to shed some light on the matter... She broke your heart first. She blocked you on WhatsApp after she said goodbye. The only time you've heard from her was tonight.

damn i don't think i needed that.

Let me finish. I don't think she acted the right way. She may have been scared, but you could have talked and maybe worked it out. However, I know you. You'll never get over her in a million years. At least now you know she has feelings for you. It's up to you what you want to do now.

Max bites a nail even though she knows her stylist is going to scold her if she sees that she has damaged her creation.

i think i need your help

What do you need me to do?

r u still in chicago? for the business trip.

Yeah. Until the 25th.

i have to be in chicago on the 22nd for promo. u think you'll be free that evening?

Of course. What do you have in mind?

i'm terminating my contract, Max can almost hear Connor's reaction on the other end of the phone. and I'm gonna need a hell of a lawyer to do it.