Monday, June 16, 2025

9. L'amour est un oiseau rebelle (Emmanuel confides in Mayra)

Mayra throws herself down on the bed with all her weight, making me bounce with the shock, and begins seriously:

- Prins, we need to think more about garden plants: in the open area we still have too few.

- I know, Mayra: we've been focusing more on flowering and indoor plants, which are the fastest to sell.

- Yes, but those women your maman sends us also ask us for plants to put outside: today the sinhora Bòsoli asked me for a Mannolia, a Smanto, a Caprofolio and a Aloropetalo that I don't even know what it is: we have to give her an answer by tomorrow.

- So May, they are called Magnolia, Osmanthus, Honeysuckle and Loropetalus: you should try to learn them, the names of the plants we grow in the greenhouses.

- But I know them by their faces, not by their names.

- Faces?

- Yes, from the sight. So, what do I answer her?

- Tell her I'll get them as soon as possible: I know where to find them.

- Then I wanted to show you this catalogue here with some very nice new flowers…

She opens the catalog and puts it on my lap. I close it with annoyance.

- Not tonight, May: sorry, I really don't feel like it. We'll do it tomorrow.

Mayra, a little disappointed, puts the catalogue on the nightstand and folds her hands on her knees.

- There's something wrong with you, Manu.

- Oh no, Mayra, I'm just a little sleepy.

She looks at me seriously.

- We made an agreement, Prinsy, that you must not tell me lies, because I will know.

- All right May, it's a lie, I admit it, but you can't expect me to tell you about everything, even my strictly personal things.

- Okay Prins, then I'll leave you alone with your thoughts and your strictly personal things. You have the dog to keep you company, you don't need me.

She starts to get up, but I hold her by the wrist.

- No, please, stay. In fact, if you feel like it, maybe give me a little back massage: I really need to relax.

- Okay, I'll take the massage oil.

She goes to the bathroom to get the scented oil she uses for massages, an oil that is very light on the skin and leaves a delicious fragrance, that of Tiare, scientific name Gardenia tahitensis. As I take off my shirt and lie down on my stomach I think we should also get that plant, in addition to the outdoor shrubs requested by Mrs. Bòzzoli. That blessed woman has become one of my regular customers and is bringing me a lot of money, even though the bulk of my earnings for now still come from my part-time photography modeling.

Yes, photography modeling.

I think back to those two days spent at Chalet La Marmotte: they were among the most beautiful and intense of my life, and I still don't understand why. This ridiculous activity has become a kind of drug for me, because Gianni is the one photographing me and his photos reveal me to myself; I see myself through his eyes and he sees me as beautiful: this has generated a kind of emotional short circuit in me; probably, as he says, I fell in love with myself, like Narcissus. The fact is that I can no longer do without him: having him take pictures of me is an indirect way of making love , we both know it, and this complicity binds us. But that night I really wanted to physically make love to him, that is, according to his theory, to myself. I feel terribly confused, and even more humiliated, because it was he who prevented me, demonstrating a wisdom from which I am far removed. I would have done it, because I am an idiot and by now my brain has ended up in mush: I have not even considered the problem of the consequences, I have not remembered that, among other things, I am the father of a child, I have not remembered anything at all.

I feel like a boy with his first crush, and this is absurd from several points of view, even more so because he is involved with another man. I am terribly uncomfortable with myself, I would like to disappear and never let him see me again, cultivating the secret hope that he will miss me forever, but I can't do it: I desperately need to see him. Luckily for me, he behaves as if nothing had happened, with that surreal irony that distinguishes him, to which has been added a tone of benevolent and almost paternal affection that reassures me a little, and makes me feel a little like a worm. But I can't do without him, just as he can't do without me. We probably love each other, but we can't afford it.

On the other hand, for now, even if I wanted to do without it (and I don't), I couldn't: it's thanks to that clandestine activity that I'm paying back the loan to my father and Michael. The proceeds from the nursery sales, minus expenses, are barely enough to pay Mayra's salary, who in any case fully deserves it, given that she's making my greenhouses prosper and always attracting new customers. She knows how to deal with the ladies, she entertains them, she offers them sweets and coffee with her simple and relaxing chatter. Yes, relaxing: this is the exact term to define Mayra's effect on people in general. If I had to compare her to a plant, I would compare her to Cannabis: when she's around you immediately feel better.

- Lie flat on your back, she tells me, starting to massage my shoulders.

I moan with pleasure and well-being, despite my inner discomfort.

- Are you doing better, Manu?

- Much better.

- You've been all weird ever since you came back from the mountains.

- Yes I know.

- You don't want to tell me what happened? Maybe it's worse that you keep it all inside.

- Maybe. I don't know, Mayra.

- If you tell me about it while I'm giving you a massage, calmly, you'll see that afterwards everything will seem easier.

- Maybe. I'll think about it now, May. In the meantime, you massage me even lower, please.

- Lower where? On your legs? I'll get to those later.

- Further down on the back.

- On the butt?

- Yes, please. If you don't mind. I feel all tense.

- You can imagine if I'm sorry: you have such a nice ass.

She gives me a slap.

- Ouch, are you crazy?

- Don't get nervous, otherwise the massage will be too bad.

I lie down with my face resting on my crossed arms and close my eyes. The storm inside me seems to calm down little by little to the slow and lulling rhythm of Mayra's hand movements.

All the parts of my body relax and unwind, except one. There the storm continues, there is a strange agitation that depends on factors that are not clear to me: it is not possible that it depends on physical attraction, because I really like Gianni as a person, but it is not his body that attracts me: overall he is a handsome man, a middle-aged man who wears his years very well, but I am not normally attracted to handsome men, otherwise I would be attracted first of all to Carlos, who has all the credentials to exert a strong erotic attraction on anyone.

I am not gay in the classic sense of the term, I am not seduced by male physicality, just as I am quite indifferent to female physicality, unless there is something else behind physical beauty: Michelle was beautiful, but I was fascinated above all by her personality, so different from that of any other woman I have ever known. Even in the case of Gianni, although so different, it is the personality that fascinates me: consequently I do not see why it should be that part of my body that should react in that way, rather than my heart or my brain or both. It is all so incomprehensible that I feel truly disturbed: I finally decide to talk about it with Mayra, whose simplicity of soul and clarity of mind are usually a great help to me in these moments. I begin point-blank, without useless turns of phrase.

- I spent the night in bed with a man.

Her hands pause for a moment on my back, but then return unperturbed.

- Oh yeah, Manu? There's no need to tell me who you're with, I already know.

- With Gianni.

- Exactly, I already knew it. I told you you were in love with him, but you were angry.

- Mayra, it's all very confusing in my mind: I don't know if this strange thing can be called falling in love.

- And what do you call it?

- I don't know, I told you. I really like Gianni as a person, but he says that I especially like the fact that he likes me and that he's in love with me. Mirror effect, you know?

- Yes, I understand: that man is intelligent, he said something very true.

- But it's not just that, Mayra: I really get along with him. He's funny, witty, cultured, charming... And he makes me do things that I really like: he took me to high altitudes, you know, where there's only snow and a dazzling sun, a breathtakingly beautiful landscape. And we skied all afternoon, and then he took me to a restaurant and a disco.

- I understand very well, Manu: you are so young and you have seen very little, he makes you see so many new things and you are encantado. He makes you live the life of a princess.

- Why princess? Wasn't I a prince?

- No, with him you're really a princess. And then he makes you have fun and you really need to have fun, because you're living a hard life: you work three or four jobs to pay your dad and your brother back, you think about the baby, you go to Antonha, you try to get a degree, in short you do too many things and that's not good for your age, because at twenty you want to have fun above all else.

- Maybe you're right, Mayra, but there are people who go to war at twenty and support a family, while I actually need lightheartedness, fun. I'm very immature for my age.

- What war? It's not normal to go to war at your age! It's the powerful criminals who send young people to their deaths. At your age, it's normal to want to have fun, Manu. But go ahead: you got to the disco. And then what happened?

- Then there was some kind of fight and I wanted to beat up two idiots who made fun of him and called him an old faggot. They made me furious.

- That's fine, that's just like a real man. And after that?

- Afterwards we went to sleep at Chalet La Marmotte. It's funny, isn't it? He always calls me marmottino, and he chose a hotel with that name.

- Because he's in love with you. And after that?

- Calm down, I'll get there. There was only one room with two single beds, but the heating was off and I was a little cold…

And so, using the cold as an excuse, you entered Janni's bed.

- No, not with the excuse: I was really cold.

- Prinsy…

Okay, you're right: it was an excuse.

- I told you not to tell me lies: I realize it right away. Now turn around, I have to massage the front part.

- I can't, May.

- Why?

- Because I'm excited, I'm ashamed.

- And why are you excited, Prinsy? Because you remember that night?

- No, I don't think that's why. Maybe the butt massage, I don't know.

- Does massage make you excited instead of relaxed?

I snort impatiently.

- Mayra, these things happen, heh: I understand that you have no experience with these things, but I assure you that they happen to young males quite often.

- All right, but I don't get any effect from an excited maskieto like you. I've seen worse in life.

- Oh thank you, that's a really nice compliment.

- Oh no, I meant that it's just the two of us and that you don't have to be ashamed: there's no one else who sees you. Let's do one thing: I'll put a nice heavy towel on your belly and that's it, the excitement won't be seen anymore.

- You can still see it, huh! A kind of little hill under the towel.

- All right, we'll see the little hill, what's the problem? Come on, turn around: here's the siugamano, end of the problem.

- Thank you, May.

I lie on my back with my arms behind my head, staring at the ceiling.

- No, the arms have to be stretched out, otherwise I can't massage them.

- I stretch out my arms on the bed.

- We left off with you in bed with Janni. And then what happened to that poor little ass?

- Nothing to him, Mayra.

- Oh what great news. And why?

- Because in any case I wouldn't have wanted it either. It would have been a vulgar situation, absolutely unsuitable for a character like Gianni, even if...

- Even if?

- Okay, even if he does it with other guys.

- And not with you?

- No, not with me.

- It's definitely not that he doesn't like you, Manu. So, if he doesn't do it, it's because he respects you. He really loves you.

- I think so. In any case, I would have liked him to do to me… something else, that is.

- What else?

- Mayra, be patient, I can't call certain things by their name!

- Oh no? And why?

- Because as soon as he did it they seemed really ugly to me.

- Yes, that man is really smart, and he loves you, Prinsy: he said it precisely because he didn't want to.

- And so we stayed in each other's arms all night doing nothing and slept like that. End of story.

- That's a beautiful story, Manu! Really beautiful.

- Yes, May, it's a beautiful story, but now I feel like shit, because I would have done those things with him. And I'm not gay, Mayra, believe me.

- Well, I think you are a little gay, yes.

- No, it's not that. It's just that I don't care about the gender of the people I like. I mean, let's say I'm bisexual.

- But why are you sad, since nothing happened?

- It all happened in my mind, and what's more, that night of forced chastity made me realize that I really care about him, and he about me. But I don't know how to behave with him anymore, Mayra. We couldn't be together even if we wanted to, especially since he's had a partner for many years.

- He'll take care of it, Manu: he's a wise man, he knows how to behave.

- Maybe, but the problem remains. I feel bad about myself because I would have done those things, you know? He was the one who told me no.

- Yes, of course I understand. And I also understand why you're feeling bad.

- Do you really understand it? Then tell me, because I don't understand it.

- It's too easy to understand, Prinsy: he closed the door in your face. In a gentle way, but he closed it. And he closed it precisely because he loves you. You see Manu, what makes you feel so bad is that every time a man or a woman falls in love with you, they always run away. And you're left alone.

I am amazed for a moment by the ease with which Mayra gets her diagnoses right.

- Yes Mayra, I think it's exactly as you say. The only exception was Arianna: she even tried to kill me when I left.

- She didn't love you, Manu, she wanted you as something of her own: which is not love. It's something completely different.

- I know: it's a sense of ownership.

- But those who love you, Prinsy, always run away: they're afraid of you, because you make them feel bad. Not because of you, heh. It's like always having a stomach ache, in the end you can't take it anymore.

- Mayra, what you told me is terrible. And it's true: in the end they all push me away as if I were burning or had the plague, or something.

- No, the plague, but you do burn, Prins.

- And what do you know about it, Mayra?

- I know, Manu. It's easy to understand.

- So I have to stay alone for the rest of my life?

- But no, don't stay alone: just be friends, like with Carlos and me.

- Oh, thanks, May… Sure, it's much better than nothing, in fact it's a wonderful thing, but you're not taking into account the fact that I'm a twenty-year-old male.

She points to the towel resting on my lap.

- You mean it's his problem?

- Also, but not only. Loving is a global thing, that does not involve only him.

- You can also love without it.

And nothing, I see that Mayra is incapable of understanding that kind of problem. I sigh and arm myself with patience.

- Mayra, I'm sorry, but you shouldn't talk about things you don't know: you've never had certain experiences and therefore you can't know how they work. Take my relationship with Antonia: there was love, there was affection, there was feeling, and there was also, as was normal, a lot of beautiful sex. A real relationship is like that. I can't experience sex like an animal, I need to have a deep relationship with a person. If this relationship isn't there, or isn't there anymore, I prefer to do without it, because it makes me feel dirty. Do you understand now?

- Yes of course, I understand. Alright, the massage is over: put your shirt back on, there’s a cool breeze.

- Where do you feel the cool breeze? It's June, it's ridiculously hot.

- Put it back on anyway, it's not good that you're shirtless.

I put on my shirt. She picks up the catalogue I placed on the bedside table again.

- Now let's look at some nice plants together, so you can distract yourself and feel better.

- Okay, come on. But I already feel better.

- You've relaxed then.

- Yes, I relaxed. Thank you, Mayra.

- Nothing, Prins.

(The cell phone rings)

- And yet, if you wanted to relax, you should have turned off the phone: I always tell you…

- You're right. Okay, pass it on to me please: maybe it's something important.

- And maybe not, and you get nervous again.

She sighs and hands me my cell phone, which is ringing. I see the number and instinctively sit up.

- Hello.

- Am I speaking to the marmot nursery?

- Yes, Sir. What would you like?

- I need a luxury marmot.

I lower my tone of voice.

- No, sorry, we only have second-rate marmots here.

I hear him laughing on the other side. I want to laugh too, but Mayra is staring at me and won't move away.

- I'm not alone, I whisper to him.

- Do we have company, pup? And who are you with?

- With a friend.

- Ah, then maybe I'd better call you at another time: something tells me you're in bed.

- Yes, I'm in bed, but alone.

- In company but alone? Little rat, are you raving?

- I'll explain later, I can't now.

- All right, I understand - concludes Mayra, seeing that I am silent and procrastinating. - If you need me, I'm over there.

- Thanks, May, see you later.

She stands up and leaves the room. I lie down on my back on the bed and resume the conversation.

- I was with Mayra, a very dear friend. Now she's out, we can talk.

- And what was your very dear friend doing in the bedroom?

- She gave me massages.

- Oh, and you admit it too? What an unrepentant pig.

I laugh.

- But no, Gianni, it's nothing like you think: they were massages in the true sense of the word, the relaxing ones. She's very good at doing them.

- Maybe, but from a person like you you can expect anything. Listen, honey, I called you because I have a new commission: they pay well and there's a big surprise for you.

- A surprise? What is it?

- If I tell you before, it's no longer a surprise. Can you come to me tomorrow?

- Yes, of course, I'll make sure to free myself. Where are we going?

- Out and about, because we have to drive: the commission is for the launch of the Smart Fortwo.

- And what would that be?

- A car, love!

- I had come to that: but what kind of car?

- A mini car, that is, a super-utility vehicle ideal for city use: it was created by Smart, a joint venture between Mercedes-Benz and the Swatch watch factory.

- Oh yes, I think I saw it on TV: that little monster that looks like a car sawn in half.

- That's right, darling, but your definition is unfair and merciless: it's a very cute city car.

- It disgusts me. But it's okay, if they pay us for this...

- See you tomorrow at ten outside my office, then we'll head straight up the hill.

- But why on a hill, if it's a city car?

- By contrast, sweetie! It would be too obvious to set a city car in the city, right?

- Oh yeah, silly me. And where exactly are we going?

- In Montevecchia, about thirty kilometers from Milan.

- Why exactly there?

- Because it's a fantastic place, you'll see: it's on a hill, it has a magnificent view of Milan, a very particular microclimate and there are a lot of extinct little animals like you.

- Am I extinct?

- Of course, honey: you're the last of a very rare species of guacamole-eating groundhog, which means you're extinct.

- Too bad, I actually liked existing. Anyway, I had a puppy.

- Yes, that's true. In any case, several species that are extinct elsewhere survive in Montevecchia, including the Lataste frog, so it should be right up your alley; there's also a Lombard sanctuary and even Celtic pyramids dating back more than three thousand years.

- Enough said, I'm already excited.

- I thought so. And you'll be even more so when you see the surprise.

- I can't wait.

- See you tomorrow, little puppy. And don't be too much of a piggy, please.

- There's no danger, Gianni. See you tomorrow.

I hang up smiling and place the phone on my heart. Mayra, hearing that I've finished the call, goes back into the room.

- Would you like some pineapple juice, Manu?

- Yes, thank you, Mayra.

- I'll bring it to you.

- I see that, for a change, Bella has got up to follow you. Well done, Bella, you really are a faithful dog, there's no denying it.

Bella, mortified by my reprimand, comes back wagging her tail: I caress her on the head.

- Go, go… - I tell her magnanimously.

Mayra turns in the doorway.

- Anyway, Prinsy, excuse me for saying this, but you've become quite an idiot lately.

- I know, Mayra.

She sighs and leaves, followed by Bella.

I close my eyes with a feeling of profound well-being and dream of being in Gianni's arms doing what we did together that night: absolutely nothing.

 

Wednesday, June 11, 2025

8. Chalet La Marmotte - Part IV (Farewell to the Chalet)

- Come on, honey: what is this sweet something you want me to make for you? Give it a name.

- I can't do it, sorry.

- Okay, so I'll do it: would you like me to give you a blowjob? Or would you settle for a handjob?

- Gianni, what the hell, how do you express yourself? You're ruining all the poetry of the moment!

- In fact, it is prose, my angel, not poetry. Do you prefer scientific terminology? Do you want me to use Latin?

- No, thanks, forget it: it would be even worse.

- How do those sweet things seem to you now?

- Honestly, Gianni, you made them seem really squalid to me.

- Because they are, darling: just saying their name was enough.

- Gianni, I don't know what to say…

- Let's talk about homosexual relationships you've had in the past: how did you feel at the beginning?

- At least in one case I was full of enthusiasm. In the other it was a strange story, which fortunately translated into a great friendship.

- But you were the one who broke off the relationship in both cases, right?

- Yes, I broke it, or I caused the breakup.

- What went wrong in those relationships? And did that something that went wrong come before or after sex?

- After.

- See? You have already given yourself the answer. You are not made for this kind of experience, my darling, for everything that dirties you and brings you down. Your soul rebels and protests.

- But I'm not even made for the mediocrity of so-called normal relationships, Gianni: I tried and it went terribly. With girls I don't love I don't even feel anything physically, I get bored.

- Of course, love, because even those relationships bring you down, or rather, they leave you there: you are in matter and in matter you remain, you never take flight. And the soul needs to fly.

- Yes, that's exactly right.

- This alone should be enough to make you understand that we can't just have sex as if nothing had happened: for me, you're not a one-night stand, otherwise I wouldn't have all these problems, just like I haven't had them with others.

- But now you're making me jealous. Why did you do that to others?

- Because there is a beast inside me, like inside everyone.

- And this beast is not attracted to me?

- She's attracted, but I silence her.

- But why, Gianni?

- Because unfortunately I really love you.

- And why do you say unfortunately?

- Because our relationship can't become a stable one: if it were possible I would want it with all my heart, but it's not possible. There are a thousand reasons that prevent it: the first is the fact that I'm already with a man, who has been my partner for many years.

- Massimiliano?

- Yes. I cheated on him several times, just as he cheated on me: on top of that, he's bisexual, so there were also some women, a great humiliation for me. But we never broke up, because our bond is deep. If I were with you, I would be forced to leave him, because you're not an adventure like many others.

- Really?

- Really. The second reason is the age difference, which is huge between us. At your age you never take into account a whole series of things.

- Gianni, I don't care about the age difference, seriously: I love everything about you.

- Be careful, darling: you don't love me, you love the fact that I love you. That's very different. You desperately need to be loved, to be admired, to be seen for who you are: I see you exactly for who you are, and that's what you love, not me.

- No, it's not like that. What you say is partly true, but it's not just that: I love every wrinkle of yours, I love your slightly gray hair, I love the smell of your bitter aftershave, I love your smile, your surreal way of joking, of always being over the top, of flying over reality as if you weren't part of it. You have the charm and nonchalance of a gentleman from another era, a sort of Oscar Wilde. 

Thank you for these beautiful words, darling, but you know, you like all this because for now I can still somehow keep myself together and seem like something decent: but in a few years the time will come when I will have to wear dentures, have terrible breath, be forced to go to the bathroom every two minutes because of prostatitis, or wear diapers and other degrading things like that. You wouldn't stand for them, and I would never accept inflicting them on you.

- Gianni, if one loves, one can tolerate this too.

- Tolerating is not loving, my dear, and I have no intention of being tolerated by you. I know too well what I'm saying, believe me. You see, I loved Massimiliano madly: he's a little older than me; I was a high school student when I met him, a fairly ordinary boy, while he was a wonderful '68 barricade rider with a black lion mane, he shouted "Free Vietnam" through a megaphone, he wore those checked flannel shirts that were worn by alternative people, with an eskimo over them, and I lost my head as soon as I saw him: love at first sight, the kind that kills you.

- Your Massimiliano reminds me a little of someone.

- One of your exes, I assume.

- Yeah.

- But now many years have passed, he has gained weight and become saggy, he has lost a lot of hair, he should decide to get dentures, he is always in a bad mood, he is angry with the whole world because 1968 didn't change a damn thing and he paints horrible pictures throwing buckets of red paint in the faces of the Madonnas of the Florentine Quattrocento, a horrifying thing that simply expresses his anger and his frustration. I, on the contrary, live for beauty, I photograph subjects like you, medieval churches and castles. I deeply respect beauty, I would never allow myself to deface or ridicule it. In my opinion his paintings are disgusting, even if I would never tell him so. Luckily the critics like them.

- I understand, Gianni.

- Anyway, I still love him, little marmot, but only because when I met him he was so different: if I knew him now I would run away, and believe me, it is terrible to say something like that about someone you loved so much. When I look at him I try to see my great love again climbing the barricades with his magnificent black hair in the wind and the megaphone in his hand, but every day I have a harder time remembering him like that. Besides, what do you want, I certainly can't leave him now that he's aged and ugly.

- Of course, Gianni, you are absolutely right. The problem is all mine, and it is a problem as big as a house.

- Meaning what?

- I have experienced sex in a sublime way, and I miss that so much. I especially miss abandoning myself completely, as I did in the early days with that woman; I miss letting see what I have inside, letting see what is beautiful in me and that emerges especially in those moments. Or rather emerged: it hasn't happened for a long time. I can't let myself go anymore, but I feel like I desperately need it.

- I totally understand your mood, chick.

- I was hoping… or rather, I was sure that with you it could happen. You are the right person to appreciate these things and I would have really liked to let you see them.

- Love, I am without a doubt the right person to appreciate your beauty. But you see, I have no need to prove it physically: I know how you are in those moments, I don't need to see you. I know that you are beautiful. I see your eyes getting lost, I hear your sighs, I see your mouth opening in a smile as if you were crossing the threshold of Heaven to throw yourself into the arms of an angel.

- Yes, I feel exactly like that in those moments.

- Listen to what I tell you, darling, and never forget it: if now the two of us can stay embraced like this in this bed all night, you will carry with you for the rest of your life the memory of a great love. Otherwise we will destroy everything in exchange for a few moments of pleasure.

- I feel like I'm experiencing the finale of Plato's Symposium.

- Yes, I know: the night of Socrates and Alcibiades, “golden weapons for bronze weapons” and so on. But that’s exactly how it is, love, believe me. And now close your eyes and imagine that what you desire is happening right now. I see you and I hear you, you are not alone.

- Yes, Gianni… it's happening… and it's... beautiful…

- I know, my angel… I feel it.

- (The next morning, as the two walk through the snow toward the car)

So, how is my little marmot feeling this morning?

- Very good: fresh and rested.

- I feel great too, darling, because now I'm sure we can see each other again. It would have been a disaster for me not to be able to see you again.

- For me too. Thanks for everything, Gianni: it was a beautiful experience.

- You're welcome: thanks to you…

- (They get in the car and leave)

I'll be back in France next week for another photoshoot, this time on the French Riviera. Swimwear.

- Oh yeah? And with whom?

- A couple of interesting males. Brunettes though: they have to be tanned, and with skin like yours it takes weeks to get anything resembling a tan.

- You'll find some excuse to stop and sleep there, I suppose.

- I don't know, maybe. It depends on what time it is.

- Gianni, damn…

- Yes sweetie?

- I hate you.

- Why?

- Leave it alone, you understand perfectly well.

- Don't worry, little marmot, I won't do those bad things you're thinking.

- Oh no?

- No.

- And why?

- Because my heart is already busy.

- Of course, I know: with Massimiliano.

- No, love. With you. But don't tell anyone.

Sunday, June 08, 2025

7. Chalet La Marmotte - Part III (In bed with Gianni)

(Later, in the room)

I didn't bring my pajamas of course, the night stop wasn't planned. I have to sleep in my underwear and a t-shirt.

- Me too, darling: we'll get over it. Besides, the sheets are very clean.

- It's not that, it's just that I feel a little embarrassed in my baggy T-shirt and my underwear: I'm wearing my usual cotton boxers with the blue ducks, I know they look pathetic.

- They look great on you, chick: they are so cute. And then you are fine with anything.

- I wear very modest underwear, I don't care about these things. You on the other hand have very elegant underwear, a matching t-shirt and shorts, black with white and silver piping.

- Yeah, I like to treat myself well. It's Calvin Klein.

- The one I did the underwear shoot for?

- That.

- You have a practically perfect physique, lean and muscular: you don't have an ounce of belly.

- Are you trying to tell me in a nice way that I'm still pretty fit for my age?

- No, I'm saying you're fit overall, not "for your age."

- I try not to let go, my boy.

- It's not warm in here at all: I think I'll keep my socks on. Loose underwear and wool socks, I must be really ridiculous.

- Anything but ridiculous, believe me. Now let's get under the covers and have a good night's sleep.

- All right, Gianni. Good night.

(Silence)

- Gianni…

- Yes?

- This summer duvet is a little too light, don't you think?

- Yes, it's a bit chilly.

- I would say cold: yes, it's May, but we are in the high mountains and the heating should be kept on at night too. On top of that, we don't have pajamas. I thought...

- Did you think?

- Here, I was thinking we could push the loungers together and keep each other warm a little.

- Are you that cold, little sparrow?

- Yes. And then I feel alone.

- Alone? What do you say: if we are here together!

- Just physically. You treat me like a stranger.

- I don't treat you like a stranger at all: I treat you like a baby marmot who needs sleep so he can wake up rested tomorrow morning.

- Yes, but baby marmots have fur: we should have brought a couple of fur coats to the room, instead of leaving them all in the car.

- I think you're exaggerating a bit.

- I don't know what to tell you: despite the socks, my feet are freezing.

- Maybe you got too cold when you were changing your furs bare-chested at three thousand meters. My fault.

- But no, it's not your fault: I'm just very sensitive to the cold.

- You don't have a little fever, do you?

- No, no fever: apart from the cold I'm fine. Just a little stomachache because of all that alcohol. I'm stupid, I know I shouldn't drink so much: in the past I've had some pretty serious liver problems.

- Hepatitis from injection, little sparrow?

- Gianni…

- I thought so. You have to be careful, darling, you are easy prey to all the seductions, it is easy to push you to do the wrong things. Why did you never tell me about it? I would have stopped you from drinking spirits. Anyway, if you have a stomachache, you really need to stay warm. Listen, the sunbeds are quite wide, almost a queen size: there is no need to push them together, there is room for two. Come on, come here.

- Can I really?

- Of course you can.

(He slips into Gianni's bed)

- I feel much better now. Can I stay like this or does it bother you?

- Of course you can, angel.

(A few minutes of silence)

- Gianni, I have to ask you something.

- What?

- I don't know if what you told me was true. You said you were in love with me, but then you forgot about it within a few hours. I mean, I didn't understand anything.

- I said some nonsense, little puppy.

- What nonsense? That you loved me?

- No, that I forgot. Obviously you can't fall out of love in a matter of hours.

- But then…

Yes of course darling, I'm still in love with you.

- Gianni, I have the impression that you really love me, and I hope I'm not wrong.

- You're not wrong, actually: I have feelings for you that are quite rare in their kind. Not the usual crush, I mean.

- Really?

- Really.

- So I want you to know something: I feel them for you too.

- This is very generous of you.

- Why do you say generous? There is no need for generosity to love you: you are a special man, intelligent, attractive, charming, cultured, witty... Completely different from all the other people I have known. And then you have that surreal irony that makes you absolutely irresistible.

- Irony is necessary for living, my angel: if you take things seriously it's over. It's all so terribly sad and mediocre, everything so gray... And you are a ray of light, I can't help but love you.

- You always say beautiful things to me, Gianni. Thank you. You have no idea how much I need it.

- That's what I think, honestly.

(A silence)

- Gianni, if you want, I'm ready.

- Ready for what?

- Ready to do whatever you want. Now.

- What do you think I want, little marmot?

- I don't know… I thought… well, I thought you wanted to make love to me.

- Of course I want it, my little one: I'm wanting it with all my being, and believe me, I have to exercise considerable self-control not to let go.

- You don't have to exercise any self-control, Gianni: just let yourself go.

- I cannot.

- You can't? But why?

- Far be it from me to be a moralist, that's not my style: that's not the point. I want to be absolutely honest with you: this is not the first time I've come here in the company of some male, and we actually had sex.

- Here, you see? But then…

- Be careful with my words, honey: I never use words at random. I said we had sex. I have no intention of having sex with you: it has nothing to do with how I feel about you.

- Gianni, I don't understand: I've always thought the opposite, that is, that loving a person is the ideal condition for having sex. In fact, I think it's the only one: sex without love is squalid.

- Of course, chick, but it depends on the circumstances: in this case, if we have sex, we destroy everything and we will end up never seeing each other again. Is this what you want? Mind you, if you say yes, I'll do as you wish, because I would never want to see you again if you told me that you were okay with something like that, and then we might as well have a memorable fuck and leave it at that.

- No Gianni, absolutely not. I don't know what to do with the memorable fuck, if we never see each other again.

- Well then, my little face, we have to continue to be like this, just hugging each other.

- But why? I really don't understand your reasoning. I really want it, I wouldn't feel forced at all.

- Baby, I know that at your age you have strong sexual instincts, but believe me, it's not really the case that you vent them on me. Better alone in the bathroom, instead. I'll wait for you here.

- What are you talking about, Gianni? You make me ashamed! I would never do something like that. I'm not a beast, huh, even if you keep comparing me to all the little animals you can think of!

I imagined so, because deep down you are as candid as an angel.

- No, you're wrong: I've done some pretty dirty things in the past. And it's not the first time I've had a homosexual relationship: I've already had two.

- I imagined this too. The conversation is timely, then we'll talk about it again.

- Gianni, seriously, I don't understand why I can't do it with you: you're the only person I would do it with right now. I loved a woman very much, the one with whom I had my son, but I can't love her anymore, because she humiliated me.

- It would be strange if it were the other way around: you can't love someone who humiliates you.

- Exactly. I'm still fond of her, and to tell the truth I have sex with her every now and then. I like it physically, but every time I feel dirty.

- It means you are healthy: healthy in soul, I mean. It is the soul that loves, not the body, and if the soul sees the body doing bad things, it feels bad.

- Yes, that's exactly it. Instead you make me feel special and beautiful, I feel like I'm flying when I'm with you: so why is it wrong for us to have sex?

- Listen to me, sparrow: I told you before that you have to use words appropriately. You too studied classical studies, so you know it. Things should always be called by their name: otherwise, as Orwell and Epicurus teach, the perception of reality is completely altered.

- Yes I know.

- So give things a name: what is the name of the thing you would like me to do to you now?

- Here… definitely something non-violent, non-vulgar.

- Try to give it a name, darling: what do you call that something non-violent and non-vulgar?

- Gianni, I… sorry, I'm embarrassed.

- And then you didn't tell me what you want, but what you don't want: basically you're telling me that you don't want me to abuse your adorable little ass, or am I wrong?

- No, you're not wrong. It wouldn't really be in keeping with your character, even if...

- Even if?

- Well, I guess it wouldn't be the first time you've done this, since you used to come here with your little friends.

- Of course: the animal in me has often taken over. But is that what you want?

- No, Gianni: this would degrade your image in my eyes. It hurts me even to think of you doing these things with other boys.

- Perfect. So tell me what else you would like me to do to you, or what you would like to do to me.

- Gianni, damn it, you're crucifying me.

- Crucifying why? Because I force you to call a spade a spade?

- Yes I know, you're right. I'll try to answer: I would like you to make me something sweet.

- Sweet. Yes, I understand. But let's give this something sweet a name.

- Do I really have to?

- Absolutely yes, otherwise you don't look things in the face.

 

 

Wednesday, June 04, 2025

6. Chalet La Marmotte - Part II (Accident at the Disco)

- Pour moi, une bière rousse, peut-être une Bulldog si vous en avez une, et du fish and chips avec un peu de sel et de vinaigre. Pour le garçon, des nachos avec du guacamole et du cheddar fondu, pas de bacon s'il vous plaît, car il est végétarien, des frites avec du ketchup et une Golden Ale. 

- Gianni, I swear, you make me feel like a crude imbecile compared to you. 

- You are nothing like a crude imbecile, darling: you are simply rustic, as befits your species. 

- Oh well, I'm definitely not a groundhog. 

- You say? I assure you that the optical illusion on the snow, with those furs, was perfect. 

- I didn't understand what you ordered: I got as far as the nachos, but then I got lost. 

- I ordered the only dish on the menu that would be good for a little vegetarian rat: nachos, the typical Tex-Mex corn chips, good but a little cheap, accompanied by a fondue of cheddar, an excellent hard English cheese, and guacamole, a Mexican sauce made with avocado, lime juice, salt and green chili pepper. Otherwise you would have left here with an almost empty belly, honey, which for a twenty-year-old six feet tall boy who has been skiing all afternoon is not the best. 

- Fabulous, Gianni! I can't wait to taste all that stuff. 

- And nothing, you are really Alice. 

- Can't I be the Cheshire Cat? 

- No love, because the Cheshire Cat is someone who knows a lot, and you, on the other hand, are so candid that you scare me. 

- Candid? 

- Come on, eat. 

- This stuff is delicious, especially the sauce. 

- I'm happy: I see you eat like a little wolf. 

- People are starting to dance. 

- I see, honey: and let them dance. After all, we are at a disco. 

- Don't you like to dance? 

- Not too much. I liked it a little, once. 

- I'm still thirsty: I'll order another beer. 

- It's already the third. 

- Maybe it's the nachos: they were a little salty. 

- Luckily you don't suffer from prostatitis little mouse. 

- Oh no, it's a bit early for those ailments. 

- Lucky you. 

- It's full of Italians in here, judging from the conversations I hear. 

- Yes, the Deux-Alpes are a very popular destination for Italian skiers. 

- Gianni, do you hear? They're playing our song. 

- Ours in what sense? 

- It was playing on the radio that day we had a fight and then you came back looking for me. 

- Oh yeah, that time. I was a little out of control. 

- But then you said some lovely things to me. Let's go dancing? 

- No, darling, I'm not coming to dance. You go if you want. 

- Gianni, please… Don't let me pull you. 

- And you don't pull me! 

- I ask you please. 

- Do you care that much? 

- So much. This song moves something inside me. 

- I think it's the three beers that get you moving, honey. All right, if you really want to I'll get on the dance floor, but woe betide you if you laugh at me. 

- I would never laugh at you, Gianni. Come on, come on. 

(They dance) 

- Put more effort into it, Gianni: this rhythm requires more work from the hips and pelvis… Like this, you see? 

- Boy, everyone is looking at you, I don't know if you realize: you are so sexy that it almost disgusts. 

- It's not sexy, it's just that this is how you dance this thing. Come on, try it yourself: push your hips to the side and rotate them. 

- Oh listen, this rhythm inspires me to something completely different. 

- And what inspires you? 

- Something like that. 

(He starts dancing with flamenco-like movements, clapping his hands. Emmanuel laughs amusedly) 

- Come on, you're fantastic: a kind of flamenco! 

- Yes, more like that. 

- It's great, it fits the rhythm very well. I'll try it too. 

- (The people around start laughing and making comments in Italian.) 

- Hey, look at those two! 

- Yes, I've been watching them for ten minutes. 

- A little gay, huh? 

- Oh, but just a little bit. Just look at how they move. 

- The old faggot is trying hard, huh? Come on old man, move your ass more, you're a little stiff. 

- (Suddenly Emmanuel stops dancing and quickly goes to the edge of the dance floor, grabbing the guy who spoke by the collar.) 

- Say it again, asshole, if you dare. 

- What the fuck do you want? 

- Old faggot to whom? Apologize or I'll smash your face in, you piece of shit. 

- Hey, calm down! 

- Apologize to him, Giorgio, you better: this guy is six foot three and he means business. 

- Okay, sorry. What the fuck, you can't even make a joke... 

- Let him go, come on. Maybe it's his father or his uncle... 

- Keep your bullshit jokes to yourself, okay? If you ever try that again, I'll kick your ass. 

(Back on track) 

- Gianni, I'm mortified, I... I didn't think there were so many imbeciles in here, otherwise I wouldn't have asked you to dance. 

- Oh, never mind, darling: I'm used to it. 

- But what are you doing, are you still dancing? 

- Yes, why? 

- But with all these assholes around… Do you know what the secret is, my angel? Let other people's stupidity roll off you like water off a goose's feathers. That way it won't stick. Come on, dance with me. 

- I've lost the desire, but if you really want to... 

- Yes, I want. 

- Okay, then I'll dance. 

- Anyway, it's amazing how the male comes out of you in certain circumstances. I admired you a lot, you know? 

- It was the least I could do, Gianni. 

(The song ends) 

- Shall we order something else, darling? 

- Yes, a double whiskey. 

- Are you kidding me? Since when do you start drinking hard liquor? 

- Since I'm pissed. Those two pissed me off. 

- You should get pissed off more often, it suits you very well. I'm happy with a Campari soda. 

- But then we go to sleep at the chalet: I'm tired of staying here. 

- Totally agree, darling. 

Tuesday, June 03, 2025

5. Chalet La Marmotte - Part I (Emmanuel and Gianni at the Chalet)

- What a fantastic descent, Gianni! I had a lot of fun.

- You ski like a god, you know that?

- Yes, I'm still quite good, although not as good as I used to be: I've even won some races in the past.

- “Once again, in the past”… You sound like a sixty-year-old, darling: it’s not like you have all this history behind you.

- Well, I have a bit of a past too: I won the races when I was seventeen, at the school championships. Anyway, you do well too.

- Let's say I'm still standing.

- Come on, don't be modest: you have a beautiful style. Today you ski practically without style, in a natural way, with slightly wide skis, but I really like the style of the past, the one with the skis always nicely joined.

- When I learned to ski, we used the christiania, my little chick: boots practically glued to each other. Now carving is in fashion, which is what you use.

- Yes. However, the slopes of the Deux-Alpes are wonderful.

- Yes, they are among the most beautiful in the world.

- And where else do you get to ski in late May? With fabulous snow, to boot.

- That's why we're here, right? The photoshoot had to be in the high mountains and on the snow, there was little to choose from. Here you can ski until July and the snow is natural: all thanks to the Glacier Blanc, which is located at three thousand six hundred meters above sea level.

- Yes, but what a crazy service, Gianni: furs worn on bare skin at three thousand meters above sea level! Come on, what bullshit. Who would ever do something like that?

- The commission comes from a furrier, darling, and the client dictates the terms. And they looked great on you: you were lovely.

- Luckily they are synthetic furs, even if very well imitated: otherwise I would have refused to wear them.

- Of course, you are in solidarity with your fellow species.

- My what?

- The marmots, honey.

- Oh yeah, sure, how stupid.

- Come on, let's get this stuff off our backs and go get something to eat: it's already late. We were supposed to go back right after taking the photos: now we won't get home before half past ten in the evening, and only if we hurry to eat; it takes more than four hours from here to Milan and you have the off-road vehicle under my studio. Then you'll have to travel another hour and a half to get to Turin.

- Even more, Gianni, because my house is in Baldissero, not in Turin. Anyway, it was worth it: when I saw these fantastic slopes I couldn't resist the temptation to go skiing. Luckily they rent skis and boots at the shop, and with this weather you can ski even in a jacket and jeans.

- I don't doubt that it was worth it, but you won't be home until midnight, and that worries me.

- Don't worry, Gianni, I have no one waiting for me: I live alone, you know, and today my friend Mayra is looking after my dog.

- That's not why I'm worried, but because you're tired, honey. You got up very early, you got cold while changing your furs to take photos at high altitude, then we started skiing like two idiots, and on top of that we're fasting.

- But now let's eat something, shall we?

- Yeah, just a little bit. But I was thinking I don't want to get back in the car for so many hours and have you drive for another couple of hours in the dark. No, I don't want to.

- So what?

- If you give me a moment I'll think of a solution. I have to make a call though. In the meantime we go to the shop to return the skis and equipment.

- Okay.

- Massy? Hi love, how's the toothache? Have you taken anything? Good. Tomorrow you're going to the dentist though. Listen love, I'm in France for a service and I see I'm running late: do you mind if I stay here to sleep? No, I haven't booked, but it's off season and I don't think I'll have any problems finding a room. Yes of course, clean and decent, I certainly don't want to get lice. With who, you say?... I'm with a couple of friends, you know, the usual lighting technicians. Yes of course, I'll call you later. Take an aspirin and go to bed early. Kisses.

- Would you like us to stay overnight little bear? Then we can leave tomorrow morning feeling rested.

- That's what I was hoping for, Gianni, but I didn't dare ask you. I'm actually a little tired.

- Good. Then let's go and book a room at Chalet La Marmotte right away.

- Is this a joke?

- No honey, it really exists: it's the perfect hotel for a marmot, right?

- Undoubtedly.

- It is nice and clean, with beautiful rooms all covered in wood, floors and walls. Naturally light larch wood, as is customary in these parts.

- I love larch wood, it has an intoxicating scent.

- I like it a lot too. It's a warm and welcoming environment, I've been there other times.

- With Massimiliano?

- No, in the company of friends.

- Understood.

- Then we take a nice shower, rest a little and at this point we go straight to dinner, because it's already almost six and between one thing and another it will be eight.

- Perfect. Where are we going for dinner?

- Maybe at the Studio Club, on Rue des Vikings. It's a pub-disco, so while we eat we also listen to some music.

- Okay. Not that disco music is my thing…

- Not mine either, darling, but it creates atmosphere, and above all it covers the boring chatter of the other patrons.

...

- Bonne soirée. Je souhaiterais réserver deux chambres pour ce soir.

- Il ne nous reste qu'une seule chambre, celle avec deux lits simples.

- Parfait, je le paie tout de suite.

- Voici la clé. À plus tard!

- Come on, let's go drop off our things in the room and have a nice hot shower.

- I envy the naturalness with which you speak French: I understand it quite well, but I speak it little and badly.

- I studied Classics at Gonzaga, darling, at the Brothers of the Christian Schools, and they also teached French there. But those were different times, now maybe everything is different. I'm rather, let's say, dated.

- Gianni, it doesn't work with me: you look your age very well and you know it. You are a fascinating and interesting man.

- Yes, of course, for a philologist or an archaeologist.

- Oh, stop it! Instead, tell me how much I owe you for my room.

- Didn't you hear?

- Yes, I understood that there is only one room left, or am I wrong?

- In fact: so there is no room of yours to pay for, little face.

- So tell me how much I owe you for my half room.

- But nothing, don't worry, it's on me.

- As you wish: then I'll offer dinner.

- All right my angel, but don't worry about it all: it's a great pleasure for me to be in your company, you know that.

- For me too: so we're even.

- Here's our room: what do you think?

- It's fantastic, Gianni: just my style. Only natural materials, and this nice woody smell… And then the very white sheets and the light Provençal duvet. It's beautiful.

- Honey, do you know what's great about you, apart from everything else? The fact that you always walk around with your mouth open like Alice in Wonderland. You like everything, you think everything is fantastic.

- No, it's not like that, Gianni. Or rather, it's not always like that. Not with everyone.

- I am happy to have this privilege.

- How cute are the two twin beds! Also made of solid larch wood.

- Yes, they are very nice, and I take advantage of it right away. Are you going to take a shower first? I'll wait for you here and rest a bit, then we'll take turns.

- Okay, I'm going.