4. Little Marmot Part II (Gianni changes his mind)

(Later, at Carlos and Mayra's house)

- Couraje Prinsy, don't cry: you'll see that you'll get along well with this Guido too.

- No Mayra. I don't plan on going, I'm done with this job.

- But you were starting to earn good money, Prince.

- I know, Carlos, but the disappointment is too strong. I had grown fond of that imbecile and I was convinced that he was fond of me too.

- He had become very fond of you: too fond, I would say.

- Not in that fucking sense. I mean fond like a friend, a father, a brother…

- Of course Manu, you're right. I understand very well that you feel bad, and Bela understands it too: look how she wags her tail. And Gatu Felipe also looks at you as if he understands.

- Bella wags her tail because she loves me, and you two love me too, and your cat understands me because he has suffered too. It's called solidarity. I don't want anything else in life right now, I've had enough of doors slamming me in the face.

- All right, but there's no need to make a big deal out of it. I think you're exaggerating a bit, huh! Here, drink this beer: it's a Trappist, wheat beer, your kind.

- I don't feel like drinking beer right now, but I'll try it. Thanks, it's good.

- It's true that you feel too bad about it, Manu: he was just your photographer, not your boyfriend...

- Mayra, you should know that I care about my friends. They are important to me.

- Okay, but no, he wasn't your friend: he was someone who took photos for money, Manu.

- No, he wasn't just that.

- Well, my sister is right: a friend is not a guy who gets paid. There was no friendship with him.

- I was convinced so.

- You were wrongly convinced. And in any case you have to accept it. What are these whinings? You sound like a three-year-old who lost his favorite toy.

- Carlos, I just…

- Yes, Prinsy, you're exaggerating a little: it seems like the one in love is you, not him.

- Mayra, I didn't expect this from you. You disappoint me a lot. Sorry guys, I'm very tired and I want to go home right away.

- But no Manu, stay here, don't get in the car so tired... Sorry if I said something that bothered you, I understand that you were really upset.

- Come on, Prince, cheer up: sooner or later the desire to take photos will return, you'll see.

- Definitely not the desire, Carlos. There will never be a relationship of trust and friendship like with Gianni. He was fun, surreal, he made me feel at ease: I went there willingly. If I do it again, I will only do it for the money, because the plant nursery still doesn't make enough.

- But today we sold some roses to Mrs. Bròsoli, and she said she's bringing us some of her friends too. And then we also sold some jerani and surfinie, and they asked us for some fruit trees.

- That we don't have, Mayra: we have to get them as soon as possible. Let's hope we're still in time, the season is already quite advanced.

- Already done, Manu: I ordered them right away.

- Very good: I don't know what I would do without you.

- How about a game of cards before dinner, Prince?

- Yeah, that's fine. Get out the cards.

…

- You didn't eat much, Manu. Would you like another slice of cake?

- Maybe a little slice. But a very little one.

- Very very little.

- (Cell phone rings)

- I told you to put your phone down when you eat, Prins: that way you'll never be able to stay calm.

- Can you pass it to me, Carlos? It's over there on the dresser.

- Here.

- Wait, can you see the number? Just to know if I should answer.

- No, it's hidden: it says "private number".

- What a drag… Give it to me. Hello!

- I got a commission from Switch Magazine, some crazy glam stuff. See you next week, okay?

(Ten seconds of silence.)

- Gianni…

- Yes, little mouse?

- Definitely not a mouse, huh.

- This time we have to break the bank: I thought of a steampunk outfit in a post-industrial setting, some abandoned factory with all the broken glass and rusty iron everywhere. Rusty iron is incredibly photogenic.

- Gianni, fuck you.

- Now what are you doing to me, the offended one? What's that snobbish tone of a repressed convent schoolgirl? Aside from the fact that convent schoolgirls don't say fuck.

- Wait, I'm going to the other room.

- Oh, you're not alone?

- No.

- Are you with a man?

- It's none of your business.

(Covering the microphone)

- Guys, excuse me, I need to talk in private for a moment. Do you mind if I go to the bedroom?

- Go ahead, Prinsy, I'll clear the table in the meantime.

- Go, go…

(From the room)

- What the fuck is wrong with you? You told me it was the last time.

- Well, what do you want it to be? You told me a lot of nonsense too, but I didn't take it seriously.

- Gianni, you fucking bitch, I'm hanging up the phone.

- Are you really going to hang up the phone?

- Yes, really.

- Then do it, right? What are you waiting for?

- I've been feeling sick all day.

- Were you really sick?

- You're an asshole.

- Can't we make peace, my little rat?

- No, we can't, for the simple fact that we never argued. You did it all by yourself, you decided that you were in love, that you couldn't see me anymore, that it was the last time, and then here you are again as if nothing had happened. And I'm not a little rat.

- Yes you are: all you're missing is the tail. Anyway, I resisted for eight hours, then I decided that's enough.

- But what's enough?

- Being idiots, okay?

- Speak in the singular, Gianni: I have never been an idiot with you.

- All right, I admit my wrong. Do you forgive me?

- It's not about forgiving. I... I don't understand at all what your intentions are, that's it.

- Nothing in particular: just keep taking pictures, if you like.

- Let me get this straight: so you want everything to go back to the way it was before?

- Yes, everything as before: the usual marmot routine. It's not that fur animals are particularly original. So, see you next Wednesday?

- I… yes, I think so.

- Do you think so? Are you not sure?

- But Gianni, how can I be sure after what you told me this morning?

- My God, what could I have said that was so terrible? Come on, let's put it behind us.

- And your falling in love?

- Eh, I think it's already passed.

- Gianni, you are…

- And what are you doing now, are you crying or laughing?

- I don't know. I hate you enough right now.

- That's a gay phrase, you know?

- Yes I know.

- Well, I'd say that's a good starting point.

- I wish I was gay, believe me: for me it would be better from several points of view.

- Really? For me, it would make little or no difference, little sparrow: I did some soul-searching and discovered that I have one.

- Meaning what?

- I mean, it's not your lovely little bottom that I want: it would feel like I was violating something sacred. Excuse the old-fashioned term, but I don't know how else to describe that certain something that you inspire in me: it's like a slightly nauseating perfume, something halfway between jasmine and lily of the valley, the kind that makes you go crazy if you smell it too much, and well, it's not like when I see a flowering bush I get this urge to have sex with it. My God, I'd feel ridiculous.

- What you just told me is very nice, you know?

Yes? I don't know, maybe. In any case, I have decided that my role towards you will be that of a guardian angel. Under my guidance, you can do havoc, little rabbit: you and I can really set everything on fire.

- Thank you, Gianni, I don't want to set fire to anything: I'm happy to earn a little money and be with you. When I'm with you I forget everything, I enter a kind of magical world outside of time.

- That's exactly how it should be. I'll be expecting you on Wednesday at the usual time, darling. May I kiss you goodnight? Like a good little mummy, on the forehead or the tip of your little nose.

- Okay, come on. Good night.

(He hangs up and goes back into the room.)

- Everything okay, guys.

- Everything okay what?

- Gianni has already forgotten that he fell in love with me, so everything is fine.

- Are you kidding me?

- No, Carlos: it's the pure truth.

- And do you believe it?

- Why not? Gianni is crazy, so it is very possible that things are like this.

- And are you okay with that, after what he told you today?

- Yes, I’m okay with that.

- You are completely stupid, Prince.

- I know.

- Prinsy, what's wrong? You're so weird, your hands are shaking.

- I'm a little shaken, Mayra, but with a good night's sleep it will all go away.

- I really hope so… Aren't you staying with us?

- No thanks, guys: I feel like taking a long car ride with Bella.

- Where?

- I don't know, just randomly, up and down the hills. See you tomorrow!

- Good night, Prince.

- Bon noti, Manu…

3. Little Marmot Part I (Gianni retires from the game)

- Look a little more to the left… More cross-eyed, if you can, it gives you an absurd charm. Give me a smile like when you see a salmon crossing the road at the bus stop.

- What if the salmon ends up under the bus?

- Of course it ends there, otherwise why would you smile? Perfect, stop like this…

- Gianni, you're a sadist.

- Just a little.

- But why are we here in your studio today instead of the usual extravagant places you like? Parks, castles, ruins, monuments, deserted churches…

- God, how naive you are: it's called “locations”, not “places”.

- Okay, in the usual locations. Are we not going there anymore?

- No, we're not going anymore. We're done for today, honey, you can get dressed.

- Already?

- Yes, already.

- Okay, I'm getting dressed. (Shortly after)

- How much do I owe you for the service, Gianni? The usual?

- No, not today. Today is free, on me.

- But why?

- Because it's the last time.

- What?... It's a joke, right?

- No, honey, it's not a joke.

- I mean, what do you mean last time?

- I mean last. Finish. The end.

- But Gianni… we're just beginning, the magazines are just starting to publish my photos, I mean yours, and you want to leave me in the lurch?… Come on, I don't believe it, it's a joke: an April Fool's joke, huh?

- I told you I'm not kidding.

- I don't understand... Did I do something wrong? I've always paid what you asked me to, I don't think I've disappointed you or offended you in any way... Am I really that bad of a photomodel?

- No love, you're perfect. You break the screen.

- So what?

- Sit down, little sparrow. Would you like a drink?

- I don't know… what are you offering me?

- An Irish Coffee.

- Would be?

- A cocktail made with Irish whiskey, long hot American coffee and a teaspoon of brown sugar. You would also need cream, but I don't have any in the fridge. I'll make it for you right away.

- Thanks, but…

- Don't argue, it's necessary.

…

- So, how is it?

- Very good, Gianni. You are really good at making cocktails, not just photos.

- Yeah. I need them to cheer me up in times like this.

- Gianni, for God's sake, will you tell me what's happening?

- Oh, nothing much. I just have ethics, even if they are well hidden, and so I must say goodbye.

- But why, good God?

- You don't guess, you little piggy face?

- No, I can't guess at all, I don't have a piggy face and I'm not in the mood for riddles. I hope you're not sick or something.

- Not physically: I am in more than fair health.

- You take a weight off my mind, believe me: the rest can't be anything so serious, we'll get to the bottom of it. I was starting to earn quite well, if you want I'll pay you more.

- You are completely off track, my little chick: what you gave me is more than enough.

- Well, then I just don't understand. Please, Gianni, I need your help: I've never told you, but I have a one-year-old son and I absolutely must contribute to his maintenance.

- Come on! My marmot gave birth to a baby marmot?

- Yes, Gianni.

- How sweet! And with whom, if I may ask? A female, I suppose.

- Gianni, this is not the time to explain to you the whys and wherefores. I mean, I was really counting on you, and I don't understand why you're turning your back on me now. What have I done wrong?

- Nothing. That smile, maybe. Or that goose-like look. Or your skin. Or those flamingo legs. Or the nonsense you say. Or the kingfisher feathers. I don't know, it's up to you.

- So, am I really a disaster?

- No, you're not a disaster. Unfortunately, you're an adorable little otter boy, and I can't help but love otters madly. You know when they roll around in the water splashing each other? Or when they slide in the snow to forget their hunger, while those boring beavers eat the supplies they've accumulated during the summer?

- Yeah, but what the fuck does that have to do with anything? Sorry, I still don't understand.

- Oh, but you're slow on the uptake then: do I really have to tell you to your face?

- Yeah, I think so.

- My little marmot, I'm in love with you.

(Twenty seconds of silence)

- Gianni, I…

- Yes I know, it's not your fault etc. etc. Unfortunately it happens. Life is unfair, honey, and so this is the last time we'll see each other.

- Wait, Gianni, there must be a solution: let's not rush things.

- What solution do you want there to be for a broken heart? Glue? You see, I know that I am not reciprocated and I would never do anything to force you: I am a gentleman. So there is no solution. I let you go and that's it. End of discussion.

- But I don't want to leave!

- You have to.

- Gianni, I've become very fond of you during this period...

- Yes, I know you love me a little, and I thank you. But I'm talking about something completely different: I dream about you at night, I've lost my appetite, I get tachycardia when I think of you, I can't wait to see you again, these little things here. And Massimiliano wants to leave me.

- Who is Massimiliano?

- My current partner, darling. He's a famous painter, obviously modern painting, the kind that people don't understand a thing about but pretend to understand so as not to be out. He says that at night I pronounce your name in my sleep, I rave about marmots and caribou, and on top of that I get the geographical location wrong: I place marmots in Liguria and caribous in Monferrato. During the day he finds me distracted and apathetic, I dress salad with Vaseline, and well, my little beaver, we really need to cut it out.

- I understand, Gianni. But why beaver? Wasn't I an otter?

- Yes, you're right: you see that I'm losing my mind? The fact is that even male beavers have their reasons, only I can't allow myself to fall in love left and right with all the little furry animals.

- I'm so sorry, believe me, but I understand. I understand above all that I have an uncommon bad luck.

- Why do you say that?

- Because it's the story of my whole life: as soon as someone falls in love with me, they throw me out of their life. It seems that loving me is something unbearable.

- It is, in fact: it makes you feel terrible, it's like when you're at the opening of an exhibition you don't give a shit about and your shoes are too tight. You can't wait to take them off, those shoes, and put on the usual, horrible cloth slippers you use to watch TV.

- Well, it's not my fault, Gianni! I can't do anything about it. It's not fair, it's really not fair that you always make me pay for something that doesn't depend on me!

- I know, baby, but tight shoes are torture, that's an indisputable fact. And since I love you, here's the business card of Guido Serrani, a fashion photographer friend of mine, a very good one and strictly straight: he fucks female models, he's happy like this... I've already told him about you, he'll be waiting for you next week.

- Thanks Gianni, I have no intention of going there.

- Why not?

- Because I enjoyed being with you. I am the pair of old slippers you want to get rid of, not the shoes that are too tight… Who knows how many other nice new shoes you have at your disposal, but of those, who knows why, you don't want to get rid of.

- The thing is, the other new shoes don't make me feel hot or cold, they're just cute. Disposable. You, on the other hand, stir something inside me, and that's not right.

- Sure, right: and I should believe it too. The truth is that you don't give a shit about me. About me as a person, I mean. I hate being a model, I only did it because you were the one taking my picture, damn it, and you throw me out the door...

- Now you're making me cry, little marmot. But enough with the sentimentality, work is work: sleep on it, you'll see that tomorrow you'll think differently and you'll call my friend Guido.

- I don't think so, but thanks anyway.

- I'm not asking you to give me a kiss, little face, but let's pretend so.

- I really do, Gianni. Let's at least part with a hug.

- Like real men, huh?

- Like real men.

(He leaves crying)

2. Ugly Ugly Little Face (You're too sweet...)

(Milan, Sempione Park)

- Are you going to give me that ugly ugly little face again?

- Ugly ugly in what sense?

- That slightly piggy-like grunt you make at me every now and then… There, good, like that.

- Gianni, do I have to have a jerk face in every photo you take of me?

- Honey, what you call a jerk face is the height of sexy. In this job, a slightly dirty face is the bare minimum.

- Yeah okay, a bit of a pig…

- Good, stay down, like this… touch your thighs… Higher up, don't be so shy: I remind you that we are taking photos for men's underwear, not for a convent school.

- Of course it's for men's underwear: I'm a male.

- Honey, you have no idea what effect you would have with a corset, garters and black fishnet stockings. Look, my blood boils just thinking about it…

- Rocky Horror Show effect, I'd say.

- Frank-N-Furter singing Sweet Transvestite… don’t make me think about it, that’s swoon-worthy!

- Yeah, I can't disagree with you: Tim Curry was really good in that role.

- “Strong”? I see you haven’t lost the habit of minimizing, honey. And stay still, stop scratching your legs… Raise your left thigh, open it a little, put your hand where you know… Perfect!

- Gianni, I'm starting to get fed up with staying still in this position: I'm practically naked, it's cold and there are even a few mosquitoes.

- Think about it, honey: if it's cold, how can there be mosquitoes? And it's still too early.

- I don't know what to tell you, they're still biting me.

- Because you're too sweet, they can't resist the temptation to suck you… I understand them, you know?

- But at least let me move to the sun!

- I can't, the light isn't right. Come on, we're almost done. That pissed off expression you have right now is perfect, keep it, like this... And try to have a little patience, for God's sake, I don't know if you realize you're posing for Calvin Klein! You shoot for the most exclusive brands and you're just getting started.

- And I'll stay there, at the beginning: I've already explained to you that I don't intend to make a career as a model. I just want to earn some money, that's all, and I'm succeeding, also thanks to you.

- You are crazy, my little face, crazy as a caribou in heat lost in the arctic paradise. But I will make you change your mind, you'll see.

- A caribou in heat lost in an Arctic paradise?

- Yes, why? The heat is perfect for the arctic climate.

- I understand, but what does it have to do with anything?

- Don't fancy caribou? Then a shrimp in love lost in the depths of the Indian Ocean. The harlequin shrimp is white with blue spots, a scary chic, and does spectacular love dances.

- Gianni, are you feeling okay? I think you're having a stroke.

- I always feel great when I see you, darling. Come on, stay down here for another five minutes and then unfortunately we're done. Would you mind if I offered you a spritz at Caffè Cavalieri afterwards?

- Thank you, I gladly accept, but then I have to run away immediately, because I have an appointment in Castelnuovo Don Bosco in the early afternoon.

- Castelnuovo? Are you serious? Do you want to put Castelnuovo with Milan?

- It's a very lively town, Gianni, not the usual mortuary. And then I have to meet a special person.

- A woman?

- No, a man.

- Eh, but that makes me jealous! A man… special? More special than me?

- It's nothing like you think: he's a friend, a guy full of initiative. We need to discuss business.

- Oh, okay then. You know what? I have a lot of males to photograph, but you are my absolute favorite.

- Oh gosh, I don't know whether to be flattered or worried.

- Worried, no, come on: I'm all talk and no action. I would never hunt my little lagoon nutria.

- What is the lagoon nutria?

- It doesn't exist, darling: it's a fantasy animal, like you. You don't exist either, you're just a projection of my mind.

- But why am I your favorite? I don't even know where to start to be a model.

- Precisely for this reason: you have that charming goose look that drives me crazy, you are always out of context in any circumstance.

- Lovely goose?

- Just kidding. I like to joke with you, you always fall for it. We're done: put something on that adorable, chilly tundra marmot fur coat and let's go to the cafe.

- Fur? But I have very little hair on me!

- Come on, move it: you're like the ladies, huh? You like to make the men wait...

1. Part-time Photo Model (How I met Gianni)

Part-time photo model.

(Baldissero Torinese, Carlos and Mayra's house)
So, Prince, here is the site I was telling you about.

Read, Carlos.

“A photo book is the key to a model’s professional success. A well-made portfolio must include different types of shots, which obviously affect the costs of a photo shoot: close-ups, half-length portraits, full-body photography and photos with various outfits.”

Yes, I took that for granted. But the prices?

It depends, Prince: it goes from six hundred thousand lire for close-ups to eight hundred thousand for full-body photos. And then there are price increases for outfit changes.

Would be?

Changes of clothes and scenery.

Sure, it costs more because you have to adjust the lights. But can't we take the photos ourselves? You can't imagine how much this bothers me.

No, Prince, if you want a professional result you have to go to a real photographer. The best are in Milan. You have to have a portfolio made, that's what it's called.

All right, let's go to Milan. Tell me the name of a random photographer, the first one you find on the site.

Gianni Gandolfini, via Ludovico Cavaleri 42. Do I give you the number?

Yes, thank you: I'll make an appointment and go as soon as possible, so I can get it off my mind. Can you keep Bella for me for a day?

Sure, you know she gets along very well with Mayra. But you're feeling down, Prince.

Of course: I'm already short of money and I have to spend more in the hope of earning something with a job that sucks.

You will only do it if you feel like it. I hear Mayra made coffee: let's go to the kitchen and get a cup.

With the cookies she made?

Yes, with cookies.

Then gladly.

…

(Milan, Sempione Park)
Pout at me, pout at me… like this… More, stick out those lips!

But this makes me look like an idiot.

Honey, anything but an idiot: you give me all kinds of ideas, but not that one, believe me. But did you get fillers in those lips?

What?

Fillers. Have you inflated them with hyaluronic acid?

No, they are already swollen enough. I practically have a woman's mouth.

You have the sexiest mouth I've ever seen since Mick Jagger. Head back, let your hair fall, like this, good… feel the wind in your hair…

It's a fan.

It's the wind, love, it's the wind that ruffles your hair as you cling to the tree and try to climb the Sforza Castle.

But only an idiot would try to scale a castle by climbing a tree!

People believe what they see, and here they see a medieval knight, a tree and a castle. You have an outfit that is out of this world, including the armor, so you can climb all the castles you want. Even the hair is perfect, we solved the problem of length with extensions: they are absolutely natural, you can shake them as much as you want. Trust me, you have to grow it.

I already had long hair, but then I cut it.

Grow it again! Your body type calls for long hair: an angel face on a male body, a stunning androgynous. Shake it, throw it in your face, let it fall in a mess: you are very sensual like this. You need to work out a bit for your abs, though: fashion houses want turtles.

Turtles?

That's what they're called, honey. Now, cling to the tree, like this… perfect… rub yourself sensually… More, as if you wanted to make the tree trunk your own, as if it were your woman… Or your man?

Preferably woman.

Preferably: this leaves all doors open. You look gorgeous, now throw your head back and don't smile. You have to look pissed off, remember that you're climbing the castle.

Am I climbing the castle or am I fucking the tree?

Both.

Okay, I'm a lunatic: I just had to know that.

Don't talk all the time, you ruin my best shots! Look at me like you hate me, like you want to whip me!!!... Perfect... like this. Now enough with the Middle Ages: take everything off and lie down in the grass.

But here, in Sempione Park, with people passing by?

People will love the sight of you, believe me.

Do I take off my armor and costume and stay in a T-shirt and jeans?

I said everything. Everything except the panties, otherwise they'll arrest us.

No, come on, please…

Don't argue, let me do my job: you chose one of the most famous photographers in Milan, you don't expect to teach me my job.

I would never dare.

You have a lot of possibilities, boy: with your body you will certainly be a model for underwear, so your book must absolutely include this type of shots. Change over there, behind the screen. Oh good, I see you put on your tight black panties: those boxers with the ducks you had before were absolutely out of place. Now go down to the grass.

To the grass? But there must be syringes!

Check carefully and then lie down. Now stand up on one elbow and stare into space. Don't have any expression, you just have to offer yourself to the looks... Good, like this...

Are we done?

No: we still do some with a completely different outfit, like Steampunk.

What would that be?

A particular style, a kind of science fiction set in the nineteenth century where the most advanced technology is powered by steam power. Basically you dress in nineteenth-century style, but with anachronistic technological accessories.

Interesting.

So go and put on a shirt, a waistcoat, a jacket with a velvet collar, a silk tie, and hang a few of those gadgets around your neck; there are binoculars, medallions, glasses with an elastic band at the back, pressure gauges, watches, you see: it's all completely useless stuff, it's just for show. Oh, here you also need a moustache: you'll find it in the make-up bag.

A moustache?

Yes, it's the 1800s. And take off the extensions, hair is short.

Okay…

…

(Milan, Gianni's studio, via Ludovico Cavaleri 42)
Here's your book, boy: we agreed on nine hundred thousand lire, but I'll give you a little discount because I really enjoyed working with you. Let's make it eight hundred and fifty.

Thank you, Mr. Gandolfini: is it okay if I pay in cash?

Very good. But call me informally, I'm not that old: my name is Gianni.

Okay, Gianni.

The photos are spectacular, you have to admit.

Yes, they are very beautiful.

You have a future as a model, Emmanuel: you're a little shy, but you take the light like few others and when you let yourself go you're an exaggerated thing, sexy as hell. You have extraordinary physical means. If you want, I can take some more free photos of you en déshabillé: in the little room next door there's a bed with the right lights.

En déshabillé, would it be naked?

Yes, darling: we certainly couldn't do them in the centre of Milan, with all the passers-by watching.

But what do I do with photos where I'm naked? I can't send them to fashion houses.

Well, not exactly naked: let's say you'd put a little hand in the right place.

No, thanks, Gianni: I sincerely appreciate the intention, but I think it's better to avoid it.

As you wish. Anyway, these photos are a great launch, believe me: we will see you very soon on the covers of fashion magazines.

No, I have no intention of making a career in that field.

But how? Then why did you come to me in Milan and spend all this money?

Because I want to work a little for some fashion house, but only occasionally. Let's say in my spare time.

We're not there, darling... You were born for this career.

Thanks, Gianni, I'm not interested in working as a fashion model.

You're wasting a great talent and a unique earning opportunity: you can make it big in this field. I see a lot of people pass through this studio, but they're mostly pretty ordinary people trying to seem special: you, on the other hand, are truly special.

I don't think I deserve this compliment, but in any case I don't want to break through... or be broken through. Thanks for your work, I had a lot of fun taking these photos with you.

Nice to meet you: come back and visit me whenever you want, I'll always be there for you.

If I need more photos I will certainly come to you.

See you soon!

…

(Milan, under Gianni's studio)
Carlos? I'll be back in an hour and a half, thank Mayra for keeping Bella. Yes, I'm coming to your place for dinner, thank you. It went well, but it's funny. Yes, I'll tell you later. See you in a bit!