Max's week is so busy that she barely has time to reflect on what happened on Sunday night.

On Monday she wakes up with a bit of a hangover. She rubs her temples to try to calm down a bit, but the regret in her head is constant, and there's no one to blame but herself. The bottle of wine runs out too quickly, too easily slides down her throat, and maybe that's also why she talks too much to Louis. She remembers all the talk, all the confessions, all the looks Louis gave her as she finally managed to open up after days of nothing but trouble and drama.

However, she has things to do and she knows it. She wakes up to a text from Ali, who reminds her that she'll be at the bookstore around three, so there's no need for her to stay there until after lunch. She doesn't dislike the work; on the contrary, the smell of the books, the light bustle of readers browsing through new pages to immerse themselves in and the peace and quiet of the small shop relaxes her, but she is inwardly grateful that her mother and Robert will be back that afternoon, because she feels more like being at home than having to deal with a life that is not her own.

On Tuesday she gets into a car as co-driver for the first time since the accident. She is nervous and a little anxious every time she sees another vehicle nearby, but she reminds herself that everything is fine, that Louis will be especially careful behind the wheel, and turns on the radio so that the girl can relax. She also tries to keep a stoic expression because Freddie is sitting in the backseat, playing with something in his hands and asking so many questions when he sees something new that Max finds it hard to focus on anything but the little boy, which she is grateful for.

On Wednesday she has dinner with her mother only. She is learning to grow fond of Robert, but she also enjoys the time alone with her mother. She is happy to know that everything went well, that they enjoyed it like children and that they were so pleased with their trip that their relationship has been strengthened. Max no longer thinks of the man as a replacement for her father, but has realised that they are completely different people, and that although Helen now wants to rebuild her life with a man she loves, she will never forget everything she felt for Max's father.

She has been so busy over the past few days that on Thursday she has a moment to rest and lie down and think about everything. She hasn't been able to look at her phone except to answer her mother's calls, so she's not surprised to see that she has several missed calls from Victoria and a lot of messages. She pinches the bridge of her nose because she knows she has talked too much, and that her light brain and fast fingers have done damage that she can hardly repair.

max, are you all right?

you left me worried the other night. i know you were drunk, and probably embarrassed by what you said, and i don't know if you meant what you said. either way, i think it would be better if we talked face-to-face about this.

look, i understand you're busy, and i promise i'm not angry. i just wanted to know how you were doing because you said things that don't sound like you.

there's no way you haven't read any of my messages. send me a message as soon as you can, please.

Max reads them with weight on her chest. She knows she'll get the notification that she's read them now, but there are still more to come.

damn it, why can't you answer? i can't stop thinking about everything you've said. at least tell me you're okay.

i'm getting worried after four days, to be honest. i'll call connor if I have to.

The Englishwoman's heart is alarmed by this supposed threat, and as she sees that the message is from that same morning, a couple of hours ago, she decides to come out of the darkness and answer.

hello.

i'm so sorry i haven't answered. i've had some things to take care of and i'm exhausted. but captain, it's only thursday, you'll say, and i know.

Victoria is online immediately, as if she has been waiting impatiently for her answers. She can't help but imagine her in a room she doesn't know, surrounded by a place she hasn't been to and with only the company of the boys. She feels bad that she can't be there with her, but especially that she has left her out for all these days. Yes, she's been busy, but it's Victoria she's talking about: she should always have time for her.

you're lucky you're funny. by the way, i didn't call connor, i just wanted you to respond and it seems to have worked.

sorry vic. i had my first real experience in a car again on tuesday and it made me a bit anxious. and yesterday i had dinner with my mum, so i haven't been able to respond to messages.

i didn't know. how are you doing now?

i'm better, thanks for asking vic. how are you doing over there?

everything is going perfectly. the concerts are great and we are having the time of our lives, doing what we really love. the only thing missing is you.

In Rome, Victoria doesn't know why she's had such a fit of courage. In London, Max sighs as she bites her lip. She doesn't know if she should ignore the obvious elephant in the room, because Victoria seems ready to forget about it, or if she should talk about it. It's clear that her words had an effect on the Italian, and if they don't talk about it, it's something that will probably come back to bite them in the arse. Still, Max seems reluctant to talk about it over messages.

i'm missin u a lot too. kinda wishing i could travel all the way from here to rome to see u guys.

that would make me the happiest person alive, mixing the two things i like the most :)

Max blushes a little. She doesn't know what's happening to Victoria, but she's being more direct yet subtle than usual, and she can't say she doesn't like it. It makes her think about the message she sent her days ago, and how although she regrets sending it, she doesn't regret confessing to her. She knows the circumstances are not the best, that Connor is at the scene and Victoria is hundreds of miles away from her, but alcohol is the trigger for the shooting, and she knew Victoria had to know that.

i would like to talk to you about what happened the other night, oh, there it is. Max closes her eyes and purses her lips. it's a bad time to talk? i'm free right now.

i'm sorry, vic, i'm meeting some friends to watch a football game. i want to keep some things clear so i'd also like to talk to you about it. i know i came across as too straightforward, but the truth is i had a bit much to drink. not saying i wasn't thinkin bout u, but maybe i should've been more careful with my words.

that's alright, i get it. you were probably too drunk to think straight. do not worry about it, we'll talk when we can. i just want to know, about connor...?

Well, there it is again. It was clear that Victoria would want to know something like that when Max told her that she should have kissed her. Now she has to deal with the consequences of her message. However, she hears some beeping in the courtyard, so she knows they're coming to pick her up.

i have to go now. we'll talk soon, yeah?

Max doesn't wait for the Italian to reply, but puts her phone away, gathers her things and takes one last look in the mirror. She's wearing a slightly old Manchester United shirt, knowing that her two companions will be supporting the opposing team in the match that kicks off in just over an hour.

She steps out in a black cap, covering herself from the fine rain that stalks London, and enters the car under the watchful eyes of Niall and Lewis, who give her a look of mock disgust at the sight of her attire. "Fucking red devil lad," Lewis laughs as Max pulls her finger out, infecting Niall, who steps on the accelerator.

On Friday she rolls out of bed tired and a little dejected, because all the previous evening Niall and Lewis continually mocked her incredulous gestures when the other team scored, especially when she threw her cap on the floor and folded her arms for a long time, refusing to talk to the lads, who drank beer while laughing happily.

It's not all bad news, though, because by the end of the afternoon she no longer has a plaster cast on her arm. The doctor has given her the green light to take it off and she can start to live a normal life, just not with as much effort as before. Now she only has a wrist brace and a shoulder brace to help her not to move her arm too much, but to do it little by little. That same night she cooks herself a fish fillet with potatoes, fed up with the poor cooking of Louis, whose house she leaves on Tuesday after dropping Freddie off at Briana and her mother's house.

The weekend seems to be on an upward euphoria, because on Saturday morning she's meeting Simon Cowell and the rest of the team she's been assigned to work on her songs. She gets excited when she meets them all, because it means her album is getting closer and closer. She might even be able to release it next year, and that makes her even more excited.

"So, tell me what you've got," says one of the songwriters, Jack. "Simon has told us that your style is more pop and indie, but we want to know what your songwriting ideas and preferences are. Have you ever done it?"

"Only with friends, really," admits Max. "Both Hotter than Hell and Blow your mind were studio creations, I just provided the vocals," she laughs a little. "I brought a couple of verses and ideas for various songs. I don't know if they'll fit what's being asked of me, but... I guess in the end songwriting is about writing things that we feel from the heart, and that's what I want to do. Please, don't be shy, tell me the truth."

Max bites her lip nervously as Jack glances down at her notebook, his eyes darting from sheet to sheet to appreciate what the girl has written. The brunette cranes her neck to see if she can decipher his reactions, but only watches as he reads and rereads her verses, even the words that are crossed out because they don't seem to convince Max.

"I like the idea you have for this one," he points to words she composed with Louis weeks ago. "We can turn it into a subtle criticism of guys' behaviour. Have you got it in full?"

"Yeah, if you turn a few pages I've written a couple of verses, the bridge and the chorus. What I'm still missing is the name..."

Jack nods and taps the notebook with his pen. "Do you mind?" he asks with the intention of jotting something down on the sheet. "I quite like it overall. I think it has potential for us to put a good bass on it. We can try a couple of sounds now and see if we like any of them. I've changed some rhymes, but I think in the end it's you who should be happy with this song especially. Do you have anything else to show me?"

Max senses that Jack gives her trustworthiness and radiates effort and hard work, so she instantly decides she likes him. She nods fervently, turning the pages quickly to show him the idea she comes up with the other day while babysitting Freddie. She's added a few more verses, knowing that they could be read by her label in a matter of days, but the song isn't finished.

"This looks good. From the point of view of an anthem when it's too late to ask for forgiveness and you've done your life, we can put an upbeat, empowering tune to it. Is that what you meant?"

"Yeah, a bit like when you're tired of them coming after you thinking they can talk to you like it's nothing."

"I think these two might give you a more mature feel, a bit along the lines of your other singles. I like what I'm seeing, I wouldn't change too many things," Jack puts his hand on her shoulder and smiles a little, and it's the first time Max sees him do it. "By the way. I know at first it might seem a bit... violent, shall we say, to show your lyrics to someone you don't know, but don't worry, I won't judge what you write, let alone if what you write is what you feel. Not all songwriters are like that, and neither are producers, so if you have any lyrics you don't want to show Simon or your team, give me a call, okay?" Jack hands her his card and Max nods, slightly more relieved. "For your first time writing, it's not bad at all. I have a feeling you and I will be seeing each other in the future."

"You might say I have good inspirations," Max excuses herself gracefully.

"Well, then dedicate this album to whoever broke your heart and let them see what they've missed," Jack mutters under his breath, his tone serious but somewhat light, and Max laughs nervously.

She kind of hates remembering Connor. The disappointment she feels is so deep that she hates that she's thought about him enough for the memory of him to inspire lyrics, however cheerless they may be. On the other hand, she knows he doesn't deserve another second of her thoughts. She will write what she feels, let it out in song, and that's the end of the story. That's the way things should be.

She hasn't spoken to him since that night, and he seems to have taken the hint that she doesn't want to talk to him through messages either. He hasn't texted her again, giving her her own space, and though Max thinks that's the least he should do, she can't help but think that, at least now, Connor is doing things right. She hates that her mind has things on the boy's behalf, because right now she doesn't want to hear about it.

"Do you want to try some sounds for the first one? I thought it could be called something like Boys will be boys. You know, turn the saying into criticism. Come on over to the booth, I'll turn on the table."

Max nods, sensing that things are going her way. Jack seems to be taking things seriously as she prepares the different sounds she wants to bring to the song, and Max is glad he's so professional and can guide her, because she's feeling pretty lost when it comes to songwriting. She knows that many of her friends are experts in this area, some even have more than three albums on the market, but for Max, who is not yet twenty-three, it's a bit complicated and at some point she even thinks it's too big for her.

But it's what she really wants, so she puts on her headphones.

"Look at this one," Jack presses a few buttons and Max starts listening to music.

It's definitely good, but she doesn't think it matches the idea she has. "I had thought of something softer, at least for the first few verses, so they can be heard well. The idea I have is that it's more of a message than a song to pass the time. Maybe it would be better with a soft melody...," Max doesn't finish the sentence because she feels like she's being annoying.

Jack finally nods, taking note. "I'm keeping that in mind. Please don't be afraid to say what you really think. It's your song and you have to be happy with it. If you don't like something, we'll do it over again."

They don't have too much more time to arrange the tunes or the songs, because the lift opens and Simon appears clapping his hands and with a wide grin on his face. Max takes off her headphones and steps out of the booth, aware that the session is over.

"How did things go? Wow, you were testing already? That means it's going well. How are things looking, Jack?"

The boy nods. "It's good, Simon. I'd watch out for Max if I were you," Jack winks at her and Max instantly picks up on the hidden message between the lines addressed to her manager. "I've got to go now. It's been a pleasure, Max. We'll be in touch."

"Glad to hear things are going well. Are you happy?" Simon asks, and Max almost thinks he's genuinely worried about how she's doing, so she nods with a small smile. "And with Connor, how's he doing?"

The brunette swallows hard. She can't tell Simon the truth, because she's aware that Connor and Max are crowd pleasers, and telling Simon that she hasn't spoken to the boy in days is tantamount to a reprimand. "It's all right. He's a good boy."

"Of course he is, of course he is. It's great when things work out, isn't it?"

"I was thinking of taking a trip these days. Do you have anything planned for me that I need to do before I go?"

Simon puts on his glasses as he inspects some documents, almost as if he's not giving her his full attention. "Let me check, but I don't think so. You can arrange a session with Jack when it suits you both, so it doesn't get in the way of your schedules. As long as you have something for us by the end of next month, so we can start looking at how to articulate the album, that's enough. Free will," Simon confirms with a smile. Max is surprised it's been so easy. "Can I ask where you're going?"

"Uh, I was thinking of going to Italy. It's Ethan's birthday in a week, so my idea was to surprise them. I might take the opportunity to write something there, see if some sunnier weather gives me some new ideas."

Simon seems to think about it. "It sounds fantastic. The public loves the relationship the five of you have built up, so this will come in handy. See how it wasn't so awful?" the man laughs, thinking back to the first meeting they had to talk about Maneskin. "Will you take Connor with you? That would be the icing on the cake."

"Oh, no, Connor's not coming," she replies, perhaps too quickly. "He's working on a pretty big case, it could mean a career advancement if they win it, so he said he'd better stay here," Max lies, knowing full well that at no point has she ever told Connor she planned to leave. He lied first, she excuses herself.

"Another time," Simon shrugs, and Max pretends to be apologetic. "Well, I should go, I've got a meeting. I'll see you soon, okay? Let's keep in touch and let me know how you're doing with the record."

Simon disappears from her sight, and Max leaves the building to get something to eat and go home. On the way she pulls out her phone and decides to text a certain Italian.

hey u arse. u up?

Damiano replies within minutes. Why wouldn't I be? It's 14.

i don't know what 14 means, but here it's 1pm so im making a wild guess and say it means 2pm.

Congratu-fucking-lations.

wow such an ungrateful child. i guess i'll keep the surprise to myself...

You have a surprise?

i mean yeah, r u alone rn?

If this is about sexting, I'll have to respectfully pass.

u get why you're my least fav right?

I was just kidding. I would be up for it if you were.

Kidding again. I'm alone, yeah. Whatever do you need, my lady?

somehow i miss you guys and i've got enough free time for me to take a flight there and surprise ethan on his birthday. u think it's a good idea?

Are you kidding? It's the best idea I've heard all year. Scratch that, all decade! You know Ethan, he's private but he would be so happy for us to be reunited again. Just tell me what I need to do and you'll have it done, miss.