As Damiano tells her in messages, Rome is a quiet, touristy and pleasant city, with hundreds and hundreds of places to visit, some better known than others but all worth seeing. She asks him because Max has never been to the Italian capital, so she wants to know what she is facing before travelling there. The boy tells her not to worry, that she can walk the streets without worrying about being recognised or being stopped too much for photos. Not that Max doesn't like it, but she is in Rome for a reason and prefers to keep a low profile and leave all the attention to her friends.

However, everything Damiano tells her about the city changes dramatically when she sees it with her own eyes. She arrives straight from the airport at the theatre where Maneskin is giving a concert that night, leaving her luggage with the Italians' team, who will have it sent to the villa in a matter of hours. It's dark and the lights on the avenue shine against the tinted windows of the car, which they park in the back so that she can enter without arousing suspicion. She wears a cap and sunglasses that conceal her identity, but she takes them off as soon as she enters the venue because they will ruin her concert outfit.

The tranquillity of which the Italian speaks vanishes as the doors of the theatre open to allow the fans to enter. Max hears excited screams, nervous comments and chants as soon as they hear the songs being played. The euphoria of the fans is deafening and allows Max to discover that Rome goes crazy when her four friends play a concert. Not that she is surprised to learn that they are passionate, but she admits that she is impressed by the noise they can make when they know they are going to see their idols live.

Someone from the Italians' team hands her the ID badge, which Max puts around her neck as she has done so many times before with Ariana. She sits down in one of the armchairs in the hallway, looks at the clock several times in succession and her boots clack against the floor repeatedly in nervousness. She doesn't know why she feels this way, though she attributes it to the fact that this will be the first time she sees her friends in concert.

She turns her head quickly when she sees a girl round the corner, who looks familiar but definitely not a member of the Italian band. She has a modern haircut with fringes, she's brunette and has dark make-up, which in one way or another reminds her of the Italians. She'll be about her age, she can tell as she approaches her with a small smile, and Max feels like she should know who she is because she seems to know her perfectly well.

"Max, right?" The girl nods slowly, still feeling that the other girl is clearly familiar to her. Her Italian accent is evident as she speaks in broken English, and she holds out her hand, which Max takes gently, as she introduces herself. "I'm Giorgia, Damiano's girlfriend."

Max wants to smack herself in the forehead. "Fuck, right. I thought I knew your face. I've seen a thousand pictures of you with Damiano."

"Don't worry," laughs the girl, and Max detects a sweetness in her that doesn't match the public's image of the Italian's bad boy. "The concert will start in about half an hour, so the four of them are backstage still rehearsing the final details. We can go out the back door and get some fresh air in the meantime, no one will see us."

The Englishwoman nods again, feeling less lonely and lost than she did ten minutes ago. Giorgia guides her through endless corridors and doors that she would not otherwise have known where they led. She points out the dressing rooms of the four Italians, the make-up room, the hair and wardrobe room, and Max gives an impressed whistle when she sees how much luxury and organisation her friends have. She doesn't ask many questions because she already knows how the industry works, and because Giorgia takes care to explain briefly what their normal routine is.

"You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette, by any chance?" Giorgia asks her once they reach the backyard. Night has fallen in Rome hours ago, so they are only illuminated by the poor light of the street lamps in that alleyway. "I left my pack at home and god knows I can't stay cooped up in there for hours without a cigarette."

Max hands her one, and at the same time places one between her lips. "Don't tell them I have them, or they'll take them all away," Giorgia laughs softly as she signals to cover her lips with a zip. The Englishwoman lights both cigarettes and takes a long drag, which she blows out as if it were a breath of fresh air. "I'm sorry about before, I really knew you, but between the flight and the fact that I was really lost..."

"Really, Max, don't give it any more thought, it's okay. Besides, I prefer to go more unnoticed than it seems."

Max raises her eyebrows. "But you're an influencer, right?"

Giorgia nods but tilts her head. "Yeah, in that sense it's clear I know what I've got myself into. I mean I prefer not to be associated exclusively with Damiano and Maneskin in particular. I do my own work, I'm my own person, so I'd rather be recognised for that."

"Ah, I understand," Max takes another puff, and is surprised at how easy it is to talk to Giorgia. "Well, in this industry it happens more than you think."

The Italian opens her mouth in surprise and pretends to fan herself. "Do you have any gossip to tell? I'd be more than willing to listen."

Max laughs pleasantly as she flicks her cigarette to remove the ashes. "I'm not speaking for anyone in particular. Well, the original agreement the guys and I had was to get together to give each other publicity. They had just won Eurovision, I had just come back from a tour in America, so Sony thought it would be good for me to gain more popularity in Europe and for them to get more opportunities in America. It may seem frivolous and superficial at first, but it has paid off in the end, hasn't it? Besides, it's one of the few decisions I can say I'm proud of Simon," Max winks at her and mutters the last sentence, a little fearful of outside ears but trusting Giorgia blindly.

"If it's any consolation, Damiano went crazy when they were told you were getting together. He literally couldn't stop talking about you for a whole week, until you saw each other. He was very happy, but when he met you he was even happier. He didn't know what to expect from you, and the truth is that you exceeded the expectations of all four of them. You don't know how hard it is for those four to like you," Giorgia takes the last puff. "But I didn't tell you anything, huh?"

Max clicks her tongue. "I won't be able to rub it in Damiano's face for the rest of his days then," she feigns frustration and the other brunette shares a laugh with her. "Should we go in now?"

Giorgia nods. "It's ten to ten, so you'll have a little while to say hello before they start. Come on," the Italian lets her pass and makes sure the door to the alley closes properly. She heads back backstage, and Max thinks she knows her way around, but she can't help but be nervous again.

She can't quite understand why her heart is beating faster than usual, or why her palms are sweating. It reminds her of when she had to take an exam in high school and she had a bad tummy ache. But this isn't an exam, she's just meeting some friends she hasn't seen for weeks, right? Well, maybe not quite. Maybe Victoria is one of the reasons why she's so nervous.

But she still doesn't understand why her breathing quickens at the thought of them meeting again. She puts it down to the fact that they'll probably have to have a face-to-face talk about what happened, and Max feels her stomach turn again. She doesn't want to lie to Victoria, she doesn't want to hurt her, because it's clear that if the blonde wants to have that kind of conversation it's because the words of an inebriated Max had some kind of effect on her. Enough to make her care that she didn't kiss her that night.

They arrive backstage, and Giorgia invites her to be quiet for a few moments. Max smiles nervously as the Italian enters and begins to converse with the four of them. Her heart skips a beat when she hears their voices. "I bring you a surprise to cheer you up even more before the concert."

Max knows they are speaking Italian, but she manages to make out that they are asking what it is, so she understands that it is her turn to enter. She holds out her arms with a smile playing on her lips. "Did you miss me?"

Before she can realise it, Victoria throws herself into her arms with a squeal. She's slightly shorter than Max, so the latter has no trouble pinning her against her body when the Italian wraps her legs around her waist. "Her arm!" Thomas shouts to warn Victoria about the possible damage she can do to her friend, but Max doesn't complain, just spins around on herself a couple of times to squeeze the Italian as close to her as possible. Somehow, her heart stops beating so fast, as if it's calmer than ever.

"Leave us our moment too, hey!" Damiano complains, jokingly pushing Victoria away, already on the ground but with a wide grin on her lips. "Did you have a good flight?" Damiano plants a kiss on the crown of her head as he pulls her into a lopsided hug.

"I've literally been on Duolingo all the time. I think I know how to order ice cream now."

"But what are you doing here? We thought we wouldn't see you for a while longer," Thomas wants to know, who also hugs her and admires with a hiss at her choice of clothing: tight leather trousers, a pair of military boots and a white blouse that's see-through and you can see her bra.

"I've taken the liberty of coming to celebrate Ethan's birthday. It's not every year you turn twenty-one, eh? Now in America you can get drunk in peace," Max rests her head on Ethan's chest, who hugs her gently, the only one who has taken more into consideration the complements on her arm to repair it again. "I don't want to distract you, you have a concert to give."

"I'll take her with me to the box," Giorgia announces with two tickets in hand. "I'll meet you here afterwards, okay? I promise I'll look after her," the brunette puts a hand to her chest and smiles.

The six of them exit backstage and make their way to the stage. Victoria takes the opportunity to intertwine her fingers with Max's, who is a little more aware of the gesture than at other times, but doesn't complain. "I'm so glad you're here. How long are you staying?"

"Well, if I remember correctly, someone told me that if I came she'd be the happiest person in the world," Max sticks her tongue out at Victoria, and Victoria feels her heart fill with joy. "I don't know when I'm leaving yet, I don't have a return ticket. Until you throw me out," the Englishwoman shrugs. "Come on, now, give the concert of your lives."

"You'll be here later, won't you?"

Max nods solemnly. "I'll be here, I promise."

"I don't want to butt in where I'm not wanted," Giorgia begins, once the spirit of the concert is waning, people start to leave and they can talk without shouting in each other's ears. "But, Victoria and you...?"

Max is a little distracted when the brunette speaks to her, but her instincts kick in when she catches the blonde Italian's name in the same question. She hesitates a little, thinking about how out of the ordinary of friendship their relationship must be for it not to be the first time someone wants to know if there's something going on between them. "Oh, no, there isn't," Max shakes his head. "Vic and I are friends. Besides, I have a boyfriend. Connor, he's in London now," the words come out in a kind tone, but she tastes a bittersweetness in them.

"Fuck, sorry. I didn't know. I thought that— Never mind. I'm sorry, really. I've said too much," Giorgia apologises quickly, the words running over each other from the discomfort she's feeling right now.

Max places a hand on her shoulder as she smiles, "It's okay. We've already had both of us two awkward moments in one evening. Looks like we're even."

Giorgia seems relieved that Max doesn't take it the wrong way or take offense. Still, why should she? She loves Victoria very much, that is clear, otherwise no one would mistake their friendship for anything else. However, the fact that she is already the second person to mention it to her leaves her with doubts in her mind. In the last few days she has had little time to think and think things over, but the events of that Sunday night have continued to haunt her at the most unexpected moments.

Luckily, the four Italians appear backstage in a matter of minutes. Max raises her eyebrows when she sees them changed into lighter, party clothes. "We had a party for after the concert, do you want to come? It's a place we always go and there's a good atmosphere and good music," Damiano offers.

Max declines with a pout. "I don't think today is the best day for me to go out partying, I feel like I haven't slept much in the last twenty-four hours. But you guys can go, huh? I can find my way back to the villa."

"I'll go with you," Victoria offers, and suddenly the mood becomes lighter for everyone. "What kind of hosts would we be if we left you alone your first night here?"

"You're right, maybe then I won't want to come back," Max counters, and it becomes clear to everyone that they are barely paying any attention to the rest of the Italians.

Ethan clears his throat. "Are you sure? We can save the party for another day when you're less tired."

But yes, both Max and Victoria are sure, and with no further offer from Damiano and Thomas, who look at each other raising their eyebrows without the others being able to perceive it, the two of them drive off in a different car than the other four Italians, Giorgia included. It's starting to rain a little, so they run around the courtyard, careful not to slip, and take shelter inside the car.

"Well, what did you think? It's the first time you've seen us live for real."

"You're kidding, right? It was spectacular. You have an incredible presence, the crowd was crazy about you. And when Damiano surfed through the crowd? That was crazy. Giorgia and I were freaking out from the box."

Victoria smiles, grateful for Max's comments. "Did you like Gio? She's a sweetheart. She and Damiano have been together so long she almost seems like a member of the band. We take her everywhere."

"Yeah, she's been great to me, actually. We went out for a cigarette and everything before seeing each other. She seems like a sweet, quiet person. What's she doing with Damiano?" jokes Max as she turns her head to take in a bit of Rome's scenery.

"Gio is completely deceiving once you get to know her. She's a blast when she gets confident or goes out partying. She gets up on the decks and dances like never before. You'll see her sometime."

They arrive quickly at the villa. The chauffeur takes out Max's luggage and bids them farewell with a tip of his hat and says something in Italian that Max can't quite understand. Victoria puts the girl's backpack on her shoulder and offers to drag her suitcase inside so that she doesn't strain her still recovering arm too much.

"Come, I'll show you your room. We don't have two floors here like in your humble mansion, but at least you'll have a room to yourself. Look, in this corridor you have two bathrooms, here and there, and at the end of the corridor we have a soundproof room where we practice and compose songs. By the way, did I mention we have a song coming out soon?"

Max is surprised. "A song? You hadn't told me about that."

Victoria nods as she drags her towards her room. "Yeah, we wrote it right after Eurovision, but between one thing and another we hadn't had time to finish the final details and rehearse it enough to get it out. Plus, we just named it really recently."

The Englishwoman admires her new room and asks, somewhat distractedly, "So, what's it called?" She sees that it does indeed have everything she needs to relax in it. The bed is huge, there is a mirror right in front of it and a small balcony from which she can see the garden and the house's swimming pool.

"Mamma mia," Victoria murmurs with a playful smile on her lips.

"I love that expression!" Max claps her hands together happily. "Wait. Is that why you called it that?"

"I guess it's a way of thanking you for giving us that inspiration," Victoria nods, and Max's breath catches in her throat as she sees the Italian slowly approach her, a determined expression on her face. "I think we should talk, Max. Would you like something to eat or drink?"

"Some water will be fine," Max clears her throat, a little nervously. "Because I doubt you know how to make tea."

The two of them leave for the dining room, and Max is impressed by the aesthetics. It's very large, with windows that double as walls, overlooking the garden and the calm pool. The sofa is huge, with seating for more people than there are at home, and Max decides she definitely won't need her glasses to watch TV because of how big it is. She plops down on the couch, a little tired, after a drink of water.

"Listen, about what I told you the other day..."

Victoria cuts her off. "You don't need to explain to me whether you were drunk or not. I just want you to be honest. The truth is, I was a little shocked to read that."

"It's hard to explain," Max admits as she fiddles with her own fingers. Then comes the moment that makes her most nervous, explaining her feelings. "I came home that day upset about things I haven't been able to tell you about, and I wish I could, but I can't talk about it yet. Anyway, it was you who stayed with me all night trying to make me feel good, distracting me to think about other things. And it's not the first time you've done that, Vic. You always make sure I'm okay, you try to cheer me up when things don't go well and you're the first person who comes to mind when something good happens to me and I want to tell someone about it. We've always had a very special relationship, but I never thought it could be something more. But... since what happened that day, I admit that I have thought about what would have happened if... well, if you had done it. I may have been drunk when I said it, but... I really thought about it."

Victoria sighs, her cheeks slightly flushed. "It seems a bit strong to hear all this. I guess there's no point in denying anything if you already know I wanted to kiss you that night. Does all this mean... you have feelings for me?"

Max takes a breath and blows it out, trying to calm her heartbeat. "I guess it does. I've given my message a lot of thought, and as much as I regretted sending it like that, I can't find any reason to regret being sorry."

"Okay," Victoria nods, more to herself than to the conversation. "What about what you told me about Connor, what happened between you two?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now," Max justifies herself, her face turning a little grim. "Things happened that made me change my mind. In fact, I haven't spoken to him in days."

Victoria frowns slightly, now exercising more friend than 'something else'. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it? From the look on your face it's a no-brainer, Max..."

It's now or never, she tells herself. But the phone rings before she can say anything to her, and as she puts it down on the small table before she sits down, unfortunately it is Victoria who is closest to it. The Italian woman's face falls little by little: she doesn't want to read the message, but it's impossible not to, especially when she has finally shown her feelings. Max approaches her, concerned by the pallor of her face and the tears in her eyes. "Vic? What's wrong?"

The Italian throws the phone at her forcefully and angrily, and Max makes an effort to catch it on the fly before it hits the floor. "Read it for yourself. Your boyfriend is looking for you," the blonde almost spits out the word boyfriend, and Max can tell. Stunned, she sees that the message is from Connor.

Hope you have fun on your trip, babe. I miss you and I love you. See you soon x.

Max can't explain what's going on, if neither of them have tried to contact each other for days, why would Connor bother writing to her now? Max closes her eyes angrily and feels tears welling up in her own: Victoria thinks she's lied to her, that she's played with her feelings now that Max knows about them. She opens her mouth several times to find an explanation, but nothing she can say makes sense.

"Vic, it's not what it seems."

The Italian laughs humorlessly. "So Connor's not your boyfriend anymore, huh? Fuck, I could have believed that. I don't understand exactly what you're getting at with this. You want to laugh at me? You want to laugh at the stupid girl who has feelings for someone who will never return them? Is that it?"

"Victoria, of course not."

"Then why the fuck are you lying to me?" The Italian exclaims with nothing but anger in her voice, and tears run freely down her cheeks. She feels used, deceived and hates feeling like a laughing stock.

"It's not a lie! I wasn't lying to you, Vic. I haven't heard from him in days, I don't know why he's writing me now," she stops talking when she thinks she understands what's going on. The only people who know she's gone to Italy are Simon, Connor, and therefore also her publicist Martha. The latter the person most interested in keeping Connor and Max's relationship alive. "Vic, please, listen to me."

"Hard pass, Max. You had what you wanted. I have nothing to say to you."

Victoria puts on her jacket and walks out the front door, and Max thinks that if this were a movie, smoke would be billowing from her head; she can tell her anger a mile away. The Englishwoman follows her out of the house, no matter how much the fine rain has turned into a thunderstorm. "Vic, wait! Wait, please."

The blonde breaks free of the brunette's grip, who sobs as she realises how bad things are. "Let me go. You know I hate being lied to, especially knowing how I feel about you. You played me. Break my fucking heart, Theresa Maxwell!"

"Fuck no!" The rain mixes with Max's tears. "I'm not with him, I promise. It's all a lie. Connor's never been my partner, Victoria. When I met him that night in the pub it was kind of sincere, I thought it might be something more, but we've never been together."

"What the fuck are you talking about, Max?" Victoria's tone is still dry, but this time slightly more curious.

"It's what you call a beard," Max admits under the din of the rainy night. "I admit he caught my eye, but I would never have established a relationship with him so soon. My team found out I was seeing someone, and they decided to get us out in the open early so that the public would perceive me as a humble, approachable person who doesn't mind not dating someone famous, but simply wants to be happy. Simon called us within days to sign the consent and confidentiality agreement, just that day I came home angry. I didn't want them to impose on me who I had to see, who I had to date, but the contract with the record company has clauses that we can't change. That's why I couldn't tell you then, and theoretically I can't be telling you now either."

Max's breathing quickens in the rain, tears once again camouflaging themselves with the rain sliding down her skin, when she sees that Victoria is also sobbing, but she doesn't understand whether from anger and helplessness or whether from understanding. "And why are you telling me this now? You're breaking your contract."

"Because Connor lied to me!" Max admits with a shocked cry. "He fucking LIED to me, okay? He knew about the contract before I did. He colluded with the label to be with me before I knew it was all a lie. I didn't know he was going to be a beard until they got us both together, but he already knew what he was doing when he met me. He lied to me during that time, making me believe we could become something real, he used me to make money. He kept it from me for months," Max's voice gradually drops, obviously hurt. "He and my publicist kept it from me until the other day, when I found out by accident. He made me think he was with me because he wanted to, not because he'd been offered a million-dollar contract."

"Max...," Victoria muses, her heart wrenching at seeing the Englishwoman so broken in front of her.

"I promise I'm not with him. I think he sent the message because Martha, my publicist, told him to. If the public finds out that my relationship with him is fake and broken, they will do their best to ruin everything. Things are done the way they want them to be done, or not done at all."

"I don't understand anything, Max. You could have told me these things before. I would never have said anything to anyone."

Max cries again. "I know, I know now, and it was clear to me before too, but I was too confused. They were forcing me to be with Connor, but I thought he was with me because he liked me, but there was also you, Vic. You don't know how many times I've thought about telling you all this, but I was so confused about everything that was going on. I hated every second of lying to you, of keeping this from you, but I was afraid of what might happen," the Englishwoman approaches her, and, for the first time, Victoria doesn't move. Wet hair is plastered to her skin, her eyes moist. "I know I don't deserve you listening to me because this is unwarranted, but I hope you understand and that you believe me when I tell you that I've never felt for Connor the way I feel about you."

Victoria's heart doesn't just go round and round once, but a hundred times. Confused, on the one hand she wants to hold her in her arms and never let her go. Hurt, on the other hand she's not sure what's happening is sincere.

"What about your mother?"

Max shakes her head repeatedly. "She doesn't know either. They said it had to be believable enough that even our families would believe it. I couldn't tell anyone, I told Louis the other day for the first time because I couldn't stop feeling awful. I went to his house because I kicked Connor out of mine when I found out everything, and I thought it was the only place he couldn't come looking for me. Please, Vic. Believe me. I never wanted to hurt you, especially not when I started to think there might be something between us. I wish I could go back in time and be honest with you from the beginning, but I was too afraid of the consequences if anyone found out about this. I shouldn't even be telling you this now, Vic, but I can't keep it from you any longer."

"You're saying this because you don't want me to leave," Victoria whispers, shaking her head.

Max moves even closer to her, determined. "I'm saying this because I need you to stay."

The rain soaks into the bones of the two girls, who stand there, looking at each other, seeing each other, having confessed their innermost, deepest feelings. Max sniffles, frozen and red-eyed from crying so hard. She doesn't know what Victoria's reaction is, she doesn't know what she's feeling right now, she only knows that she wants to keep her close and not let her go anymore.

So she grabs her jacket and kisses her. Victoria stiffens at first, incredibly surprised that this is happening, but it doesn't take long before she succumbs to her desires and moves her lips against Max's. She forgets everything around her, the rain, the party she was going to, the cold of the water against her skin. She just pulls Max closer to her, grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her as close to herself as she can.

"I'm sorry, Vic," Max whispers when they pull apart. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen, I wanted to tell you right, I wanted to tell you everything."

"Hey, hey, Max," the Italian grabs her cheeks and forces her to look at her. "Calm down. Let's talk about this inside, okay? I've wanted this for so long... You can't even imagine. I just want to know that this isn't a dream, that you're here, that this is real, that you feel the same way I do."

As a response, Max covers her mouth with hers again. This time the Italian is ready, kissing her hard, as if to prove that this isn't a dream she never wants to wake up from. Her heart races, Max kisses her again, and Victoria feels like it's the best day of her life.