Post by Giovanni on Jan 19, 2022 15:24:06 GMT -5
[ Cleveland, Ohio ]
Finding ourselves in a classy restaurant, or at the very least as ‘classy’ the standards that Cleveland - consistently lowered on a regular basis - would be able to present to the world, we’d find young Calliope checking her phone as she waited on her dinner guest for the evening.
As time went on and one, Calliope grew ever more impatient, and eventually she’d give up, glancing to her side.
Oh, you’re not here to talk to Giovanni? Calliope would react surprised at the sight of the camera levelling towards her.
Calliope, as expected of someone of her fashion sense, looked stunning and ravishing in equal spades to the point of the occasional sound of dishes falling in the background as waiters tripped over themselves at the sight of the young woman.
He’s not standing me up, I promise. It’s just… Calliope fidgeted with her fingers a little bit as she awkwardly tried to find her words. …A place like this really tends to be heavy on Giovanni’s psyche…
Leaning ever closer to the camera to whisper something between it and herself, she’d give the audience a small show as her dress wasn’t cut high enough to leave much for any imaginations.
…Cleveland’s a really big shithole, and Giovanni says that it really puts a damper on his inspiration. So I think he’s currently in the bathroom, because he could no longer stand the revulsion. she told, returning to sitting normally to the disappointed groans of every man and discerning woman in the restaurant, or watching the video feed.
Letting out a sigh, she’d twirl a lock of her hair between her fingers as a pained expression grew on her face. One of worry and doubt, uncertainty and angst.
You know, I first met Giovanni five years ago. It was truly a chance meeting, I was still in college – studying fashion design – and he came around to hold a seminar on the merits of art in entertainment. It was unannounced, of course, and I remember him trying to fight two overweight campus security guards whilst still tastefully critiquing everything around him without even getting distracted once. she explained, her eyes far away and the smile returning to her face as she relived simpler memories.
It was like something from a movie, he was so dashing and passionate, and whilst nobody wanted to understand his brilliant, I was moved to my core by it. The way he spoke about it, even the way he convulsed on the parking lot after they had tazed him twice and sprayed him with mace for good measure, there was a spark that was unlike anybody I had seen.
Sighing again, her eyes dropped lower to her plate as she bit her cheek in further angst riddled memories.
But he’s such a sensitive soul, and very prone to moments of doubt. When he’s inspired he’s the brightest man I’ve ever seen, but his genius is as much a burden as a blessing. And the world doesn’t understand it, not the way I do, not the way anybody else should be understanding. They dare call him delusional, question the fact nobody’s ever seen more than one painting of his… ‘Baby in a Minefield’, nobody understands the frail brilliance in its imagery, but I do. Calliope spoke, her voice soft and trailing off as another waiter is heard falling feet over ass in the background.
Opening her phone and showing a picture to the camera, we see a Calliope who was five years younger and a bruised Giovanni with fiery red eyes from what had to be a gallon of mace still burning his eyes.
I nursed him back to health, and the first words he told me where…
You’re a bright burning angel standing over an abyss… The voice of Giovanni rang out.
Calliope’s eyes fluttered up towards the other chair, a dishevelled Giovanni standing there after his last bout in the bathroom. Sweat beading down his forehead as he put on a charming smile.
But that smile quickly disappeared as he took in a whiff of Cleveland air and another bout of sickness washed over him, rushing back to the bathroom and bowling over yet another waiter whose dishes land in the lap of unsuspecting customers.
Calliope would wipe away a small tear of happiness forming in her eyes. After he recovered, he asked me to be his muse… Nobody had ever asked that of me before. she stifled further tears, trying her best to regain her composure. Her emotive eyes able to swallow the pity of every soul in the room at that moment. And for five years, I’ve been his faithful muse, and he even gave me a name befitting a muse, Calliope. she said, happiness in her tone.
Nodding, she took strength and confidence out of those memories, out of the knowledge of her role.
He doesn’t know, I think. But I love Giovanni, he’s beautiful both in mind and soul, and I am the only one who understands his plight. But he’s always occupied with making the world more artful, always fighting the fights that people say he shouldn’t be fighting. And it’s my place to help him, to be there always for his inspiration to keep fighting.
Switching her thoughts, her eyes squinted a little bit. Hopefulness was replaced by bitterness, even a tinge of jealousy.
Then he started this wrestling thing, such a beautiful mind having to deal with these weird unwashed masses, these strange men and women who are obsessed over such a revolting thing that they call a ‘sport… I don’t understand it, I don’t understand why someone as brilliant as Giovanni wastes his energy trying to make something this ugly look good, because these people will never appreciate his brilliance, not in the way I do, it’s like he’s become obsessed with it, and it brings us to places like… Cleveland. Calliope said with venom in her voice, with an additional dose of revulsion for the city Giovanni would be wrestling in soon.
Taking a sip of the red wine that matched the fiery redness of her luscious head of hair, she tried her best to drown the acidity with the more tasteful acidity of the overpriced French classic.
Sure, he’s found friends who share some of his passions, who know the pain of being a genius like Johnny Levy… And I guess that woman named Sonya, too… But I don’t trust them, he’s barely known them and is already forming alliances, when he doesn’t even know if they’ll not stab him in the back. she mused openly, her mistrust growing larger by the second.
Especially not that Sonya Benson woman, I don’t like how she looks at Giovanni, how she tries to ply him with compliments because I am certain she doesn’t know him the way I know him, doesn’t appreciate his art the same way I do. I think it’s just a matter of time before she’ll show her true colours to the world, and I don’t know if a tender soul like Giovanni can deal with that betrayal from people he so willingly accepts as friends. she added, her jealousy reaching a crescendo.
Taking the bottle of primo vino in hand, she filled up the glass to the brim to ensure that she had enough spirits to drown out all the jealousy before Giovanni hopefully came back soon.
And now they’re supposedly working together, even though all I’ve ever seen that woman do is sneak in and steal victories that MY Giovanni earned. I respect her distaste for this ‘sport’, but I still don’t trust her intentions. And I will keep my eye on her to make sure she doesn’t hurt Giovanni’s fragile soul with her conniving ways. she’d reveal, downing the entirety of the glass in one go and filling it back up for good measure.
Letting out a sigh and deciding against a second full chug of wine, she put her glass back down and started to fidget with her fingers again. Uncertainty once more on the forefront of her features.
But Benson, or Levy, aren’t the true dangers. It’s those other three, the Diddler, Fondler, or Diddler or whatever his name is. He probably is still angry for when Giovanni kicked him in the teeth to help Levy, because he can’t understand that there’s people in the world that have greater goals than just… ‘wrestling good matches’, that minds like Levy or Giovanni don’t have time to waste week after week on people that don’t add any sort of art to this world, that would rather see it be dull and grey forever. she’d make an overt puking motion, before shrugging a little and switching to sipping some water instead. He’s kinda cute though, but you better not tell Giovanni I said that! she threatened the camera, and gave an equally dirty look at whatever patrons overheard her.
Not that they can match up to Giovanni’s brilliant mind and soul, which transcends all forms of other beauty I’ve ever seen. she quickly added, with the intention of squashing all the hopes of hopeless internet fan-shippers.
Letting a pause fall, she decided to take the glass and guzzle down the rest of her water before recomposing herself, but not before staring a final dagger at the camera and everybody watching.
Then there’s that oddball, living in an actual water tower like some sort of overrated children’s cartoon. It’s like they don’t even know they’re irrelevant, but still keep on trying all the same. He thinks he’s funny, but I don’t think anybody laughed at his antics, I sure haven’t. And he wants to have ‘fun’, but if you ask me, the only fun I will have is when Giovanni will make him look like the simpleton he is, I will have fun when Giovanni proves to the world again that he’s the biggest artistic genius not just in this weird company and sport, but also in the world itself.
Letting out a derisive snort at something that Calliope found funny in her own mind, a devilish grin would peak out for just a second.
Maybe when Giovanni makes him look like a real fool, he’ll go back and live in his dumb watertower for the rest of his pitiful existence, and leave Giovanni to truly redefine art undistracted!
Oh, and I forgot about that Thompson guy, but honestly, I think most others have too. I heard he won the Warrior’s Rising title at some point, but honestly, I think most others have forgotten that too… He should just step aside, because he’s just wasting space like so many of the ‘mouth breathers’ Giovanni says are making this sport so dull and lifeless, they’re the exact reason why Giovanni has done this, to be a beautiful bright spot in a drab palette of nothingness.
Thompson, I know you’re probably wrestling because you didn’t have anything else in your life that you’re remotely good at… Not that you’re good at this either, from what I can tell. But do us all a favour, and don’t go and ruin Giovanni’s mood when he faces you, let him show you why he’ll win that title you won once, but actually does it with the grace and quality befitting of a true artistic genius.
The sound of what had to be the final set of dishes exploding onto a wall or a floor snapped Calliope away from the camera and instead made her look up as her dinner guest had finally figured out how to remove themselves from the bathroom long enough to re-join her at the table.
Calliope, I’ve had enough of this dinner you brought me along for, let’s go back to a place where I won’t be overwhelmed with disgust every thirty seconds. Giovanni would speak as he looked like a physical wreck.
Without even waiting for an answer, Giovanni would sluggishly move towards the door as he held his nose pinched shut in the hope it would keep him from falling apart for long enough to get away from the restaurant, and somewhere he couldn’t be overcome by the existence of Ohio.
Left behind paying for the wine bill, as they never had a chance to eat anything, Calliope would shrug a little with a smile.
Just make sure to watch the show, maybe you’ll finally understand what I’ve been seeing for the past five years. she’d wink at the camera, as the sound of a man fainting in the background could be heard. You’ll finally see what a true artistic genius is all about.
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