time for the verdict.
All around, a heavy, unfathomable silence.
Daisy stared at Sebastian Monroe. She knew the verdict would pass through his eyes. The New Zealander, almost always arrogant and clear-headed in his judgements, had an indecisive look, and all of his poise suggested an insecurity that no one recognized. The other judges were also nervous and uncertain.
Daisy, in anticipation of the response, felt that she could hear thudding from under the stage.
She heard a technician swearing heavily behind the scenes. The smoke grenades were not supposed to go off. Daisy, in fact, had been surprised. During rehearsals no one had mentioned that she had to dance in an annoying cold fog.
"I'm Rose" Sebastian finally said, "It's, like, you know… what I heard was something crazy."
"Immense is the word” echoed Circe, caged in a shiny black latex costume, the sweat coming down from under her wig.
The jury's verdict preceded the verdict of the audience, who rose and applauded. An unusual tribute, where everyone's enthusiasm was measured, but full and complete, as if the exhibition deserved admiration and respect as if it were a piece of work.
As people applauded, the thunder under the stage became darker and deeper.
Daisy took a bow. That was the most important moment of her life.
She was restless, smiling and thanking.
The thudding increased. ʺMa no one hears them? ʺ she thought, as the stage vibrated beneath her feet, the mike stick was jumping in front of her lips. He blamed the tension, and thought of his brother. Adriano had fallen ill due to severe stress. She was also under a lot of pressure now. Her imagination led her to believe that someone, or something, was buried somewhere. A presence trapped in a dark and
undefined place trying to free itself. Maybe she was sick, too?
She felt a painful cramp in her stomach and was afraid of vomiting. Despite everything, she struggled to smile.
"Daisy, I have no words. I'm simply astounded” Sebastian exclaimed, shaking his head, as if to shake off the emotions that I’m Rose has brought.
Isabella Larini agreed as she brushed her arm to caress the goose skin, her eyes flashing with admiration.
"Gentlemen, personally I am still in shock. We have witnessed the birth of a star. A star that will long shine in the firmament of the Next Generation” was Circe's comment.
"Now we want to know everything, just everything about you" Sebastian asked, smoothing his hard, stinging beard.
Daisy felt the blows stop. The mike player was no longer jumping and the stage stopped vibrating. She was convinced that she had only imagined them. She passed the back of her hand over her sweaty brow, her eyes spinning in the stands. In her dreams, her audience was always invisible, someone who applauded her but only she could see. Now the audience was real. There he was, in the flesh, standing before her, peeling his hands.
"I'm glad you liked the piece" she could say, almost moved.
Daisy's house had gone up in flames. Amelia, Franz's wealthy wife, laughed with a smiling face. Aunt Annetta took two tears of emotion from the back of her hand. The landline and cell phones were ringing off the hook. Each ring was a friend, a neighbour, an acquaintance who called to congratulate him. Franz and Uncle Ambrogio, half drunk, urged a toast by shaking beer mugs overflowing with foam in their hands.
At that moment in Castelmuso everyone could boast that they were fellow citizens of a celebrity.
Adriano was watching Daisy on the stage of Next Generation. He knew her like no other. She was tense and nervous, and the smile was not sincere.
The young man, just like Daisy, was overwhelmed with anxiety. "Adriano, you're great” his uncle told him, hugging him with an abrupt gesture and throwing his weight around to support himself.
"I said. I have always said it. I don't have two nephews. I have two phenomena."
Adriano departed from his relative to free himself from that cumbersome arm. He left the room and slipped into the hallway. He went up the stairs, cursed every step, cursed his migraine that had suddenly burst and cursed the drugs that were slowing him down.
He went into his room. He opened the desk drawer to take a painkiller. In his head, everything began to take on faded and confused forms.
He went through the drawer with his hand without remembering what he was looking for. He began wandering around the room in a disoriented and distraught air, before collapsing to the floor with his head in his hands. At that moment the hallucinations returned to him.
Adriano convinced himself that his head was a vase full of earth, where dense tangles of roots, impossible to eradicate, were taking root.
He took from the bookshop an old volume with a heavy and worn-out cover. His trembling hands turned the pages of the Bible with a frustrating and resigned slowness.
He stopped on a particularly crumpled page, aware that it would be of no use to read, or even to pray, as if at that moment religion had become distant and contrary to the truth.
Schizophrenia. It is called schizophrenia. My mind is sick. It's just that. It's the only thing I can think of thatis repeating the Bible at the foot of my bed, the pages open on the floor like the wings of a dead bird.
No. It's not schizophrenia, Adriano. He's about to come on stage.
"Very well, Daisy Magnoli” Sebastian said. "I don't know if you realise, but your voice is amazing, you dance like a pro, and if I'm not mistaken you're only 16, right?"
"That's right. At least for the part about my age. Otherwise I trust your judgment."
Daisy's response was underlined by applause from the audience who seemed to like not only her artistic talent, but also her verve.
"Now tell us, darling” exclaimed Circe. "The piece was written by your brother, wasn't it? What did you say his name was?"
"Adriano. Adriano Magnoli."
"Would you like to talk a little about him? Such a good author deserves to be here, next to you."
"Well, my brother can't come. Because he, as it were, he… he… he… is…"
"He what? You look a little embarrassed” Sebastian frowned. You don't want to talk about Adriano, do you?"
ʺHere is the moment of perfidyʺ Daisy thought. ʺCome, now I'm going to get blackmailed.ʺ
Daisy knew that judges could become particularly hateful, even cruel, in the name of ratings.
But she had no intention of falling into that trap, and she tried to concentrate to keep up with their assaults.
"So, where is your brother? You should let us meet him, love…"
Isabella Larini's mellifluous voice officially started the provocations.
"Maybe you didn't want him here because you're jealous of him?"
"Adrianoooo! Where are you? Adrianinooooooo!" Circe suddenly shouted, putting his hand over his forehead to look away, provoking the spectators to laugh.
Sandra had been backstage the whole time. I’m Rose's performance had been perfect. She was proud of Daisy. She had rejoiced and cried with emotion.
The cameras had lingered on her tears, moving housewives and mothers in front of the TV.
The whole show was running on the right track. There was the girl with an uncommon talent, an emotional mother and a composer brother who, in her absence, was feeding the viewers' curiosity.
All oxygen to the ratings. And the ratings were turning into euro palates thanks to the profits from the advertising sales.
NCC's contracts were based on ratings. The higher the ratings, the more companies that advertised their products paid more to the sender. And each share point was worth something like two million euros.
For Sandra, however, the program was taking an unpleasant turn.
Why