#possibly checking out how FdC is going during any breaks

[eurovision-del]

The final of Una Voce per San Marino is happening tonight, so I wanted to get out some of my thoughts on the competing songs before then! This isn’t a strict ranking – some songs had full performances posted online, others just studio cuts, and others only snippets, so it’s very hard to compare. It’s also hard to tell what these songs will sound like with proper mixing. Because of that, the places aren’t exact, but it gives a rough overview of my feelings.

Roy Paci – Tromba

Le Deva – Fiori Su Marte

Ellynora – Mama Told Me

MAYU – C'e qualcosa in me che non funziona

Deborah Iurato – Out of Space

Piqued Jacks – Like An Animal

Tothem – Sacro e profano

Iole – Sul Tetto Del Mondo

Edoardo Brogi – Due Punti Sull'equatore

Thomas – 23:23

Vina Rose – Oblivious

Kida – Stessa Pelle

Ronela Hajati – Salvaje

Alfie Arcuri – Collide

XGiove – Fuoco e Benzina

MATE – Prisma

Deshedus – Non basterà

E.E.F. – Something for You

Lorenzo Licitra – Never Give Up

NeVRuZ – L'alieno

Simone De Biagi – Catching Memories

EIFFEL 65 – Movie Star

I thought Tromba was a lot of fun just based on the snippet, and I’m glad I found a full performance of it because I actually enjoyed the verses even more than the chorus, which itself is already great with its catchy brass line! I like how it was performed with the backing singers and brass band on stage all in block colours, I would love to see what they could do with more space to work with.

I also really liked Le Deva with Fiori Su Marte, all three are fantastic singers and the song is dramatic and intense, very much my vibe. In fact, there are a lot of good female vocalists with dramatic songs in this selection, Ellynora and MAYU both stood out to me for that reason, I was intrigued by the little I heard of both their songs and was left wanting more. Out of Space made less of an impression on me based on the live snippet, but I was very much into the studio cut.

There’s also a fair amount of rock and rock-adjacent songs here – of these Piqued Jacks had the heaviest sound in the snippet, and I have to commend the lead singer’s commitment to belting out that note! It’s the one I most want to hear more of. I’m also really feeling Sacro e profano and the lead singer of Tothem has a powerful voice, although it gets a little shouty at points, and I hope she can sustain it.

Finally, I want to mention Iole, whose snippet left me desperate to hear more, but when I found the studio cut of her song, I actually found I preferred her voice in the live snippet – impressive considering how exposed it is with the imperfect mixing in the live performances.

I wanted to do at least a rough ranking this selection, partly for completion, but also because my favourite Eurovision song last year came from San Marino, so I didn’t want to miss their show again! I highly doubt the same will happen this year, but there’s plenty that intrigues me, and songs I’ll want to come back to after I’ve heard everything in full. Without that, it’s hard judge what I want to win, but I do think there’s a lot of potential here.  

[deeranger]

“Lavender Remains” chapter 4

💙 You can find this story on my AO3 as well, and here’s the first chapter on my Tumblr in case you’ve missed it. 💙

WARNING:

Explicit non-con and violence in upcoming chapters! Slight violence in this chapter. Read at own risk!

Chapter 4: “The Exchange”

Michael was pacing back and forth, the sound of the asphalt under his shoes raw and piercing in the silence. He couldn't believe that this was happening and every two seconds his left and free hand would clench into a fist only to open again or scratch at the fabric of his coat or jeans restlessly. The suitcase in his right hand was heavy and he tightened his grip anxiously around its handle while his mind spun, his thoughts grasping helplessly at all and any possible theories of how to solve this peacefully.

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It had only been half past midnight when he had returned to the inn and had stuck his head into the restaurant first. Knowing James as well as he did he figured that he would be way too easily bored in his room all by himself - so the odds of him sticking around in the restaurant was high. But he hadn't been there, neither by the tables, in the bar or in the corner with all of the newspapers and books by the window in the gable. Slightly surprised Michael had returned to the lobby and ascended the stairs to the first floor, expecting to find James in his room, possibly asleep. The hallway had been extraordinarily quiet and not a soul had been in sight. Knocking on James' door to room twenty-one he had had to gather himself a bit. He realized how much of a jerk he had been earlier and he wanted to apologize... The guilt of having acted like a jealous idiot had been grinding at his brain during the entire meeting downtown and all he wanted right now was to say how sorry he was and that he would never act the way he had this night ever again. He just wanted to hug him, to tell him that it was alright to be hesitant and alright to be scared without having to deal with his jealousy on top of it. But when Michael knocked on his door there was no response. At first he figured that he had to be sleeping. All that red wine had probably taken its toll by now. But when the second and third knock didn't yield a response he started to get a little bit worried. His own keycard didn't work for room twenty-one, only for his own room, so he couldn't just sneak in and join James under the covers in case he was out cold from all that expensive wine, he thought. But when the fourth and fifth knock didn't wake him up Michael furrowed his brows and he automatically started to think that maybe James had walked away... from it all. From him. And his jealousy. Or maybe he was hurt in some way…? Paranoia spread throughout his system like a sudden whirlwind and he leaned his suddenly sweaty forehead against the door, pondering. Would he really just walk away without saying? Without any sort of notice? He knocked again, this time harder. By now he didn't care if the inn's entire clientele woke up from the racket. Placing a broad palm on the wooden door he clenched his jaw muscles, unsure of what to do. Out of the corner of his eye he suddenly noticed a glimpse of white on the floor in front of room twenty-two. With a raised eyebrow he took two steps to the side and looked at the envelope which had been stuck almost completely into his room under the door. The white paper shone against the dark red rug with its yellow pattern and wide-eyed Michael tried to calm himself down. This was it. He had left. Closing his eyes for a few seconds to try and cope with his insides trying to make themselves turn into hard knots of fear and sorrow, he exhaled deeply and managed not to tear up as he bent down and picked up the envelope with trembling fingers. There was no name on it, but it was obviously directed at him considering its rather meticulous placement. Quickly Michael opened it, trying to prepare to have his heart ripped to bits. But when he pulled out the contents of the envelope he froze. It was James' keycard and a little piece of paper looking like a pink post-it had been stuck to it. Narrowing his eyes Michael looked at the small letters which obviously hadn't been written by James as he would have thought. It didn't resemble his handwriting in the slightest. Feeling his heart pick up speed Michael read the short sentences scribbled on the paper.

"James for 2 million USD in unmarked bills. Meet me by the entrance of park Château-D'Eau at 10:00pm tomorrow. Come alone or else. NO POLICE."  

As the words sunk in Michael's entire body felt like it was going to collapse and at the same time every single one of the tiny hairs in the back of his neck stood up. Letting out a gasp he almost dropped the envelope and the keycard, not believing what was happening. Feverishly he looked around in the hallway, unable to hide his fear, while trying to suppress the urge to scream from the top of his lungs. Shaking visibly he wiped at the tear that had made its way down his cheek. He stuck the envelope and its contents in the inside pocket of his jacket and fumbled for his own keycard. He had to gather himself, he had to get out of the hallway. Finally he managed to clumsily open the door to room twenty-two and hurried inside, slamming the door harder than intended. He found himself leaning his back against the door and before he knew it he had slid down and was now sitting on the floor with his face buried in his hands, mind racing uncontrollably. He sat like that for a few minutes, heaving for air and with tears streaming down his face. Should he call someone? The police? No, of course he couldn't. He tried calling James, but it was in vain and it went straight to voicemail as painfully expected. Biting his nails while staring into the darkness of the room Michael tried to gather himself enough to start making the preparations he knew he had to. The seconds ticked by so slowly and shivering he found his suitcase under the bed and emptied its contents out onto the bed covers, clothes flying everywhere. The dawn was drawing near, but the thought of having to wait for so many hours tore him apart inside. He tried not to think about what could happen and he prayed that James wasn't hurt... he couldn't be hurt. This all was too surreal and too scary. With a mind spinning too fast for him to grab a hold of any cohesive thoughts he had found himself bent over the toilet, throwing up while desperately trying to fight off what felt like a panic attack. When his stomach was completely empty and cramps had started to spread in his abdomen he had supported himself against the sink and splashed some cold water in his face to try and clear his head. And once he had dried himself he had put on his finest suit and started preparing how he would walk into the bank and ask for a two million dollar withdrawal in the most calm and friendly way he could muster. And then the waiting had begun.

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The asphalt crunched under the sole of his shoe again and he snapped back to the present when a cone of light flickered in the distance. Turning his head towards the light Michael clenched the handle of the suitcase again, his knuckles turning a milky white. His breath was forming a thin fog in the cold air and he followed the headlights of the car closely with his eyes, careful not to look too suspicious at the same time. The dark was thick and humid and Michael leaned against the wrought iron fence by the park's entrance, trying to look as casual as he could. The headlights were coming closer and as they did his heart rate picked up speed. Quickly Michael glanced at his wrist watch. It was almost 10pm. This was it. Chills ran down his spine as the car came closer, its headlights cutting through the darkness like laser beams. The street was completely deserted and only dimly lit by the orange light from some scattered lamp posts. Not noticing that it had started to rain Michael swallowed and turned his head towards the car when it started slowing down only a few feet away from him. In the dark he couldn't tell what color it was, but it was dark. Could be black, blue or even dark red for all he knew. It looked like a Cadillac. Not too old, but more like the ones from the eighties or nineties. It kind of looked like a Cadillac Sedan de Ville but he really couldn’t tell. Silently cursing at the dark and himself Michael narrowed his eyes and stared at the license plate. 708 FDC, it read. At the bottom of the plate it read "Je Me Souviens", and Michael recalled that most Québec cars seemed to read that. Based on his personal observations at least. His heart was thumping painfully in his chest when the car came to complete hold by the curb. The engine rumbled steadily and Michael tried to focus on who was sitting behind the wheel, but it was impossible in the dark and the rain. Hesitantly Michael looked around to check if there were any other cars or pedestrians nearby - but the place was completely deserted at this hour. Carefully he took a step towards the car, confused by the fact that the headlights didn't turn off and the engine was still humming. Finally a 'pop' sounded and Michael almost jumped in surprise when the car's door handle was pressed down and the door slowly opened. In the dark he could make out a broad figure and in the little light the street had to offer he stared at the man as he got out of the car. He didn't think he had seen him before. Glaring at Michael the man leaned against the side of the car, resting an arm casually on the door frame. He was of a rather thickset build with dark hair and dark eyes and with a slight beer belly bulging under a blue, woolen coat. His face was on the chubby side and he was newly shaven, Michael noticed and clenched the suitcase's handle again.

"Got the money?" the man suddenly asked in a confusingly casual voice. Michael's fingers felt like they were going to break at the joints due to the pressure he involuntarily applied to the handle of the suitcase. Nodding he turned a little in order for the man to see the suitcase. A slight smile spread on the chubby face.

"Let me see it," he said as he eyed Michael up and down. He didn't seem nervous or strained in any way. Like he had done this a hundred times before. Michael shuddered a little in the cold and blinked to get the rain out of his eyes.

"Where is James?" he asked as he gained eye contact with the man in front of him by the curb. Still leaning against the car, now dripping wet from the rain, the man shook his head.

"The money first. Always the money first," he said lowly like he was starting to lose his patience a little. Michael shifted his weight from one foot to another.

"How do I know he's alive?" he asked nervously.

"How do I know that's not a stack of bricks?" the man snapped back and nodded towards the suitcase. Swallowing Michael glared at him. As he felt his heart pound mercilessly in his chest he hesitantly took another step towards the man, lifting the suitcase slightly.

"I'm not ripping you off... Please tell me where he is," Michael said in a trembling voice, lifting his free hand into the air to clearly state that he was not out for trouble. The man let out an irritated sigh.

"Bullshit! If you want your little boyfriend back you better give me the money right now," he said sternly and reached out a hand towards the suitcase. He pierced Michael with his dark stare.

"It's do or die," he then added and a malicious smile spread on his thin lips. The air suddenly seemed to be electric. Michael blinked feverishly at the drops of rain running into his eyes mixing with tears of frustration. Carefully and reluctantly he lifted the suitcase and handed it to the man. He had no choice. The man eagerly grabbed a hold of it and flung it into the passenger seat of the car. He then turned back around and stared at Michael.

"Wasn't so hard, was it?" he said and smiled a skew smile. Michael raised his hands a little as he looked at the guy, who seemed to be amused by this whole situation. Controlling a tendency to suddenly hyperventilate Michael furrowed his brows.

"Aren't you going to check...?" he asked confusedly and almost interrupted himself when continuing directly into the next sentence.

"Where is James?" he asked, feeling the sensation of panic starting to spread slowly but steadily from somewhere deep within him. The man let out a long, airy sigh as he turned around and motioned to get back in the car.

"Hey...!" Michael burst out and took a step forwards towards the car. The man was already halfway inside.

"Fuck off..." the man mumbled. Instantly an almost numbing sensation of fear struck Michael like a lightning bolt. This wasn't an exchange, it was a setup. Feverishly he jumped forwards, grabbing a hold of the shoulder of man's blue coat, pulling him back out of the car.

"Where's James...!?" Michael yelled, but in the same second a fist hit him square in the face sending him tumbling backwards. The man had spun around and hit him with an agility and accuracy like that of a boxer - not something one would at all expect from a man of his stature. With a groan Michael stumbled backwards into the park's wrought iron fence with a loud noise, completely taken by surprise. Immediately he readied his fists, but before he had the chance to steady himself another blow hit him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Falling to his knees he gasped hoarsely, breaking the fall with his hands. As his palms scraped against the wet asphalt he could see the man moving out of the corner of his eye. He was getting back in the car.

"No...!" Michael coughed and fought to get back up. The humming of the car engine was turning into a rumble. As Michael managed to get back on his feet, he was ready to lunge for the man when he was about to close the door - but a distinctive, metallic click stopped him dead in his tracks. Looking at the man his gaze was automatically redirected to look straight down the barrel of a gun. Incredulously Michael shook his head.

"You promised..." he said and swallowed, feeling the tears starting to flow uncontrollably. The man let out a snort as he closed the car door, pointing the gun at him out of the window.

"I didn't promise you shit," he said raspily in a sly voice and narrowed his eyes at Michael, locking in intense eye contact:

"Go back to the inn and await instructions," he said shortly and the car started moving. Heart hammering and with wheezing, hyperventilating lungs Michael frowned, but he couldn't do anything but just stand there. Painfully unable to do a thing he felt his heart sink as the car was moving away from him. What did he mean 'await instructions'?

"Please...!!!" Michael desperately yelled from the top of his lungs. The man finally removed the gun from the window as hit the accelerator and sped down the street - and out of reach. Pebbles flew as the tires screeched against the wet asphalt. Unable to process what had just happened Michael pressed his bruised palms against his temples as he watched the car disappear when it turned a corner far down the dark street. Now the hammering of raindrops hitting the ground seemed almost deafening in the sudden silence by the park entrance. A choked noise escaped him and he sunk to his knees. He had failed. Where was James? He was supposed to save James...! And he had failed. James wasn't here with him as he was supposed to be! Finally Michael felt something inside him break and hard muscle contractions began to ripple through his abdomen as sobs started to make their way out, loud and uncontrollable. And he cried. He cried like he had never cried before. Trembling he reached inside his drenched jacket and pulled out his cell phone. Feeling completely lost he glared at the display lighting up his shaky fingers as they hovered above it. He stared at the numbers on the phone, not knowing what to do. Should he call 911? Or call for a cab to take him back to the inn as he had been told? A sob escaped him while his shaky fingers kept hovering above the phone, indecisive. The drumming of the rain seemed to intensify and Michael shut his eyes to try and gather himself. His irregular breathing sent small clouds of gray fog into the cold air and as his mind was spinning he convinced himself to open his eyes again, almost starting to feel dizzy. The wet night around him seemed to darken even more, shrinking and growing denser around him like it was trying to suffocate him. He let out a quiet whimper. His cold fingers then dialed the number for the cab service.