The Bird and The Bee

Chapter Four

He had just closed his eyes until he had started getting concerned.

At this point, Lovina would have locked herself away in her dressing room and be caught in the act throwing heavy objects at the doors.

Well, he looked back out the door, where techies were carrying in large wires and cables. Okay. The shower in her dressing room was free, and it looked like the only one, so he might as well take the opportunity and just go for it. Grabbing his bag, and leaving his guitar on his couch to be tuned at some point, he snaked into the dressing room and slid into the bathroom.

There we go.

"Awesome, awesome," He whispered, turning on the water and stripping from his clothes.

There was a lockable door and hot water. Score one for Team Antonio.

Lovina did not trust herself to speak without whimpering, she felt like she was being crushed. This was why he constantly had to know where she was, what time she would be finished, why he had never wanted to run into her while they were together, this was why.

"Ich auch (1)," she croaked to the German-speaking woman, who fell silent. She apparently had also been oblivious. "Well, not for much longer... look through the phone," she struggled on, reminding herself to speak in German as she began to shake. "Schauen Sie sich seine ... texts... (2)" She guessed, hanging up and putting her head back against the wall.

Antonio hadn't felt actual hot water on his body like this since he had left home before the airplane ride.

It was amazing and refreshing, and somehow spiny little Antonio managed to be reduced to tears of joy. He could stay in here for hours if Lovina wasn't coming in. He'd just stay in here for the rest of his life, shampooing his hair and feeling the hot water on his back. It was great. He was in a state of bliss.

She took a deep, shaking breath, catching herself before she actually started crying. She had to start the day, and that bird-brained smart-ass would be on her back if she went past him looking upset.

Shoving the phone in her pocket, and grabbing her bag and coat from the front of the bus, she walked of and headed straight for her dressing room, stopping to talk to no one and keeping her head down until she could be alone.

Finally, he knew he had to get out, but he still had that tingling sense about him. So nice, and so fresh. He's slip into some cleaner clothes, maybe add just a little product to help his hair stop flipping out everywhere... He heard rushed footsteps in his hideaway, panicking by slamming the door to the bathroom shut. Shit. No towel, either.

Lovina stood still in the middle of the room, hands halfway up to her face to wipe the tears at the corners of her eyes. She had heard a door slam, so she sniffed and looked to the bathroom, walking over slowly and knocking.

"Someone there?" She asked, with her tone quite steady.

Antonio panicked so hard he thought the floor might cave in from how much pacing he was doing.

"Um," He blurted, slapping a hand over his mouth.

Dumbass!

"Yes and no?"

She closed her eyes and grimaced, shaking her head. "Get out, then," she told him, not threatening in the slightest.

"Well, I would, aha!" He called, leaning against the door. "But, I kind of forgot a towel, and I don't think you want to see my... nakedness with your status."

"For fuck's sake!" She groaned loudly, finding it slightly too difficult to deal with any more stress as she went across to what she assumed correctly was a little linen closet, and grabbing him a towel. "Here," she said, her voice wavering as she knocked the door again.

Antonio creaked open the door, holding out his hand and taking it before wrapping it around him. "What's the matter, Lovina?" He asked her, keeping it creaked. "What happened? And for god's sake, please don't throw something at me, please," Antonio whispered to her.

"Nothing," she spat, crossing her arms as she stood back to let him leave. "Get out..."

"Well, at least please have the mercy to let me get dressed," He laughed nervously, pulling on a pair of underwear and some jeans.

"No, just get out! Why are you in here anyway?" She shouted at him, going pink and trying to wipe her face quickly as she failed to stop herself crying anymore.

Antonio paused while he slipped on a little cologne from his duffle bag, setting it on the rim of the sink and stepping out. "Lovina, please," He whispered, seeing her make-up running down and her sobs shakily waiting in her chest. "Please, tell me what's wrong,"

No way in hell was he touching her quite yet.

She shook her head, putting her hand over her mouth when she let out a strangled sob. "He was fucking cheating..." she managed quietly, humiliated at being so emotional and proving Antonio right, wiping her eyes furiously to try and calm herself.

As much as he hated to admit it, Antonio knew it.

Did he? He sounded like a cheater. As if he cheated on woman and on board games that made people hate at each other.

"C'mhere," He said silently, opening his arms if she needed a bear hug. "I won't judge you, I promise,"

"Why would you judge me?" She yelled back, keeping away from him. "What the fuck did I do?"

"You're an emotional wreck, bird, you've obviously been hurt." He said in the calmest voice he could manage, locking the door from the inside with and outstretched hand. "You didn't do anything wrong,"

"And she was his 'girlfriend'," she went on bitterly, overcome with anger now, as well as grief. "It wasn't just that night; he had been hiding her... I'm so fucking stupid," she muttered pathetically, sitting down and putting her hands up to her face.

"Hey, hey, hey," He cooed, kneeling down in front of her, extending his hand for her to hold. "Don't blame yourself, you didn't even know. It's his fault, Lovina, and you deserve better, remember?"

She shook her head and looked at his fingers, her shoulders shaking, too.

"He knew me, really knew me, and he was the only one who could be fucked with putting up with me... we were as bad as each other, you know?"

God, how sad this all was. He dropped his hand and gripped the side of her chair, shaking his head in disagreement. "Unless you go around cheating on your boyfriends, Lovina, I'm afraid you're mistaken." He told her, reaching up and wiping under her eye. "You're such a divine woman, honestly. I would know from my share of girlfriends. Atrocious creatures, they were."

She looked up at him and sniffed, going to wipe her eye and finding his hand there, letting her fingers linger on his. "That bad?"

"Mhm, they made me swear not to tell, but then again, they aren't in France, are they?" Antonio motioned towards his leg. "Beat me like a piñata, if you know what I mean," He motioned to his ribs, his arms, even his spine. "Hospital knew me by name. Kept saying it was from a few misfortunate falls around the house, y'see,"

She watched him in silence, tears rolling freely down her face, as she did not attempt to stop them, lost for words or any comforting gestures. "I'm sorry," she tried quietly, keeping his hand with her own.

"Oh, don't be," He smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. "I guess I just have an eye for women that prefer to..." Antonio swallowed. "—dominate, shall we say? Which is why I kind of doubt myself right now?"

She didn't understand, and watched him, blinking, waiting for him to go on at his own pace.

Antonio bit his lip, looking into those reddened, hazel eyes of hers.

"Um..." He shook his head, standing back up. "Maybe I can ask you later, it's a bit too soon, you're still in pain." Giving her hand a final squeeze, he let her go and rushed to his bag. "I'll just leave you alone for awhile; let me get my things..."

"Antonio," she blurted, stopping him as he went for the door, wringing her hands nervously on her lap. "Thank you," she told him sincerely, locking eyes with him.

He was a bit confused, and it may have just been his fright with they power-consuming look in his previous girlfriend's eyes. "Um, why?" He asked, shoving on his shirt and his trousers. "I didn't do anything for you, let alone I just put another burden on you, I just made it worse,"

She shrugged, one corner of her lips curving up slightly as she wiped her face again, more composed. "Just... thank you. We can talk when you have a shirt on," she tried to joke.

They could talk more about… what? Did she want him to talk to her about how one had kicked him down the stairs and gave him a concussion?

He sighed and nodded, tugging on his jacket once he was fully dressed.

"Sorry for hogging your shower," He mumbled, giving an awkward nod and heading back into the green room to try to clear his mind.

. 0 .

Lovina sat quietly near the window, her coat still around her shoulders as the last of the crew came on board from packing up the equipment. The night had gone well, and there was no need for a desperate and genius save from Antonio. Nevertheless, after the rush of a well-received performance, she was lonely and single because she wasn't good enough for a narcissistic drunk. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Antonio made his appearance, and she shook it. She could have had it much worse.

Antonio stepped on, gave the driver a friendly nudge and in return got a pat on the back as he closed the door to the driving section. "Ah," He mumbled, catching Lovina like the Grudge, sitting there in his perfect eye-sight. "Are you cold?" He asked casually, smiling a little awkwardly until he got his coat off and the rest of the crew left to their bunks to sleep for the remainder of the trip to Paris.

She shook her head and shrugged, kicking her shoes off so she could tuck her feet up beneath her. "I'm fine."

He sat down across from her, thinking over his speech in the dressing room for the umpteenth time that night. Was it too soon or was he just keeping her alone and lonely in the dark?

"Sorry," He mumbled, rubbing his face as if he was washing his face. He was such a wimp...

She looked up at him and frowned, more in concern than irritation. In only a few days, she had found Antonio's bad moods to be an indication that something was out of place. "For what?"

"For leaving you out of the entire thing," Antonio told her. "I was about to ask you to be my girlfriend. So I could convince you your kind of love is one of the best kinds and cheating bastards like that one guy don't deserve your presence, but here I am. I'm cursing myself for ever bringing anything up because I couldn't bear the emotion of being with you and not being able to love you like I do in secrecy and—"

He took a breath, hiding his face in his hands.

"You're just so perfect," Antonio whispered into his palms, shaking his head.

Good lord, he was like a spineless high-school boy.

If she hadn't been silenced before, she certainly was now. She watched him, mouth open slightly, staring at the top of his messy brown curls and shaking her head slowly.

"Antonio... I..."

Actually just pity you because you nearly broke a finger while playing a stupid guitar song.

Actually am gay.

Actually hate you.

Antonio looked up from his hands, trying to seem as regular as possible. He couldn't see anything, or expect anything, but that shaking of the head was not a good sign.

She hesitated, filled with nervous guilt as he raised his eyes to her slowly.

"I was with Gilbert for a long time..." she started quietly, only able to think about him, his occasional sweet habits, and his hands around some stranger, and it made her wonder why she wasn't immediately sold on an honest man, but she couldn't bring herself to agree with him. "—and that doesn't mean I couldn't... but..."

"Which is why I nearly attacked you in your dressing room this morning, and I'm sorry." He stood up, shoving his curls back away from his face. He had to leave, if only he could. The bus was already moving out of the parking lot. "It's too soon for you; I should have known, I was just happy to see a woman who wasn't out to… to break a piece of my anatomy to keep me from running away."

"Antonio, talk to me," she blurted, craning up to meet his eye. "It's okay..."

He sat back down, releasing an anxious and frustrated breath.

"Are you sure it is?"

Even if it wasn't, who was going to argue with her? She nodded, almost nervous at hearing his tone on edge.

"It's fine," she said firmly. "Really,"

He was on the verge of screaming out it as Lovina did in one of her numbers that always seemed to make his ear buds be knocked off and ring like bells.

"Okay," He said finally, sliding off his shoes. "Okay."

Awkwardly, she couldn't think of a single thing to say to him. She wasn't quite sure what would set him off the wrong way, having never seen any side to him that wasn't decently levelheaded or extremely tired. "It was a good set," she muttered, immediately regretting it, sounding insensitive and embarrassed.

"Yeah," He nodded. "You didn't mess up, I'm proud of you for pulling through," Antonio offered, leaning into his hand. He hoped that at some point, they'd stop and he could vent his feelings to a can of beer, if Lovina even allowed such things.

Hm. She stopped herself from scolding him, finding that slightly too arrogant to ignore completely. "I have been doing this for a while..."

Duh. He mentally slapped himself, giving a little eye roll behind his eyes. "You're good at it,"

She felt like repeating herself. "Thank you," she answered stiffly. "You too."

Antonio was taking things too out of hand, now imagining himself in fancy little designer labels screaming into a microphone by the piano. He gave a small smile and a snort, nodding. "Thanks, Lovi,"

That one was a double-header. There, his smile was back, but it came with a new nickname, too. Was it too cruel to correct him? Probably.

"Lovina."

Ouch. Definitely too cruel.

"My family calls me Lovi," she rushed, to try to save some face.

He'd have to stick to Bird.

"It's a cute nickname," He offered, his face unfazed. She seemed to be a little at war with herself, and he couldn't blame her.

He didn't seem hurt in the slightest, so she shrugged and gave a little scoff. "It drives me insane... when I was a kid, I thought it sounded like a boy's name."

"It just sounds like a cute little name to me," He shrugged, imagining Lovina as a Lovino. It seemed impossible, since she was so small-boned. Maybe if she cut her hair and narrowed those beautiful hazel eyes of hers, she'd look like a boy.

"I had a fight with my grandpa over my hair and cut it short," she admitted, laughing slightly, twirling a long lock at the memory. "—which was stupid. I looked more like a boy than my brother did."

Antonio was more offended at himself then Lovina might have been because he literally almost bursting out asking for pictures, unable to believe it. "Really? You don't even look like a boy, now,"

"I was six or seven... kids all look the same at that age…" she told him, taking her coat off and turning it round like a blanket, snuggling into the couch now that the conversation was flowing.

Six or seven with a boy cut, huh? "Did you get bullied a lot?" He asked, crossing his legs under him like he himself was a six year old, leaning forward.

"Didn't matter what my hair looked like," she shrugged, amused at how interested he seemed. "You bullied, you got picked on, or you stood up for yourself and got scraped knees."

He felt his eyes jump to her knees, as if she would be one with a potty mouth at six. "I remember I got a detention for cutting off a girl's braid with safety scissors when she called me a pig," He nodded, his face heating up. "She cried."

"Safety scissors?" She laughed, shaking her head at him. "That must have taken forever."

"It was around the first day... they were pretty sharp." Antonio nodded, rocking back on his tailbone. "She was kind of a ditz anyway, got knocked up in high school."

Lovina laughed more, although she knew she shouldn't have. "That's mean...! Maybe she just... fell onto a dick. It happens."

"Oh, I fall onto dicks all the time!" He joked, rolling his eyes. "She put herself there, Lovina, I'm telling you."

"I believe you, I believe you..." She insisted, almost giggling. "On both parts,"

"Oh, really?" Antonio mocked, lying back on his side, supporting his head by leaning in on his elbow. "How about you? Ever fall on a dick?"

Lovina narrowed her eyes at him, sucking her teeth and looking away as she shook her head at him. The nerve! "I'm not that clumsy," she answered.

"I was just joking!" He laughed, turning around to let it out into the other side of the couch.

Therefore, that meant she was probably a virgin, which was all fine and good.

"I mean, I wouldn't have known from a first glance."

Wow, and it was going so well…

"You think I look like the kind of person who has sex with anyone?" She asked coldly.

Antonio's smile had melted as fast as an icicle assaulted by a hairdryer. "No. No, no, no, no." He rushed, holding out a hand to calm her thinking. "No, I was saying from a first glance, you look like you've... never had any. But that's just from your songs and how little you care about it."

"Maybe that's private!" She spat back, sitting up straighter and growing more and more flustered by the second.

This Gilbert man must have been too fast for her needs. He was really starting to piss Antonio off, and he hadn't even met him aside from seeing him tug Lovina's shoulder outside. "Then it stays private." He nodded, giving a small smile. "Like the peanut incident."

"Sure," she answered quickly. "I mean, it's not like they had to change the sheets or clean up after you, no one knows about that..." She raised an eyebrow at him, frowning.

"No one does. They just think the drummer got out of hand and spilled his nuts." He shrugged, standing up to go hop into his bunk since Lovina was getting testier every single minute.

"Where are you going?" She muttered, glancing over.

"Bed," He replied, nearing the curtain. "I just seem to be upsetting you, so I was going to rest up and get my personality back."

Oh. She hadn't meant to get so snippy; he just had her thinking about everything again, which wasn't pleasant after having such an easy conversation. "Okay," she answered plainly.

"Don't be singing too many night songs, bird, you might lose your voice," He advised her, easily translating from birdbrain language to 'Don't stay up too late or you'll lose your will to do anything'. Antonio stripped from his pants and his shirt, hopping under the sheets for the first time. It smelled like Lovina, which was strange, although somewhat comforting.

She would get the hang of all his fucking bird jokes one day, if it was the end of her. She hung around in the front of the bus for a little while, giving him a chance to fall asleep while she pondered what had been said. Was she even really that hurt by Gilbert? Yes, but she wasn't very surprised. Antonio was honest, if slightly too quick too fall head over heels, and he had bared all, out of nowhere.

Poor Guitarist, she thought. She'd give him a few days to change his mind, making the decision not to encourage him.

If he had a crush on her, he couldn't possibly be serious.

. 0 .

Antonio's fingers were locking up, but he had taught himself an exercise from a few years back on how to get them loosened up and sometimes, even prick at their nerves to show them it was time to play again.

Cracking his joints didn't work, and perhaps he could even win over a few more crewmembers that started respecting him more and more each day.

The Flight of the Bumblebee was one of the trickiest songs he had ever learned. In addition, Lovina wasn't locked up in her dressing room today, and that itself was a major advantage. He still hadn't wooed her.

Moreover, he was starting to wonder how he could.

For a change, Lovina was stood at the old piano in the corner, leaning a piece of paper on top and editing it here and there with a pencil, occasionally scowling and rubbing out her mistakes. The music didn't sound quite right as it stood. She glanced up, seeing the bassist and drummer sit on boxes and chat while Antonio worked with his guitar, a look of collected concentration on his face.

Nothing much had passed between them that morning.

She was pleased about that. Yes, she was. Definitely.

Lovina went back to her work.

Mesmerized, Antonio watched her for a moment before positioning his pick. His fingers protested wildly, wanting nothing more than to just sleep and take the day off, but he'd get them woken up soon. If only Lovina could talk to his hands and make them wake up.

He started the fast-paced song, even trying to look away so it didn't seem like it was such a challenge.

She didn't even notice a change at first— Antonio was very talented. It made sense he could play fast-paced songs as well as slow ones well. However, the tempo increased at an insane rate, she recognized the song, looking round to watch his fingers flying over the strings.

There were fast songs, but this was something else... she could only watch in stunned silence as the piece continued, Antonio keeping up with the notes, seemingly almost effortlessly.

He looked up from the wall, actually losing his pick in the process. Shit, shit, shit.

He could see Lovina watching him out of the corner of his eye, so of course he had to keep smacking and strumming the side of strings, trying not to make such a big deal out of it. For it really wasn't that big of an idea on the outside, how his expression had hardly changed and the bright red pick clattered to the floor.

She only broke her gaze on his hands to watch his pick ping out of his fingers and across the floor. She almost flinched, thinking of how humiliated she would be if she had launched into such a complicated piece and had to stop halfway.

He went on as determined as ever, keeping pace expertly. He almost seemed to do better without it, using his fingers to fly between the strings so quickly they almost blurred. There was silence except for his playing now, the rest of the band watching too.

Antonio, master of the bumblebees, had begun to smile, even though his hands were growing redder and redder and his little tune progressed, drawing to the end with a final strum of his strings, observing the small little cuts in his hands.

Ooh. Nice. Battle scars.

"Hey, Lovina, do you have any band-aids?" He asked, looking up to her piano station with the most oblivious look he could give. "I cut myself a little on the strings."

She tried not to smile at him. He was such a show-off.

Then again, if she could play guitar like that, she'd play constantly, to anyone who would listen, also, to people who weren't even willing.

"No, sorry..." she called over, chewing the quirk on her lips back. "You'll just have to play songs that don't make you bleed."

"Aw, c'mon— oh," He was giving a pat on the back and a first aid kit from a techie. "Thanks, Rich."

He set his mangled guitar on the ground, shuffling over to Lovina.

"But the ones that make people listen don't make my fingers bleed, let alone losing my pick half-way through." He explained, smirking at the pink, purple, and lilac, girlishly decorated band-aids.

"Is that right?" She asked, setting her music on the piano and sitting in front of it, but not playing. She turned slightly to Antonio instead.

"Yeah, like how the only songs that you can sing..." He trailed off, mostly for his own good and the other half for his concentration in wrapping a cupcake plastered bandages around his fingers where blood was forming.

She put her hands on the keys, pretending not to be extremely interested to hear what he had to say. "What about the only songs I can sing?"

"They're just really pretty, is all," He told her, showing off his pink and purplish covered fingers. "What do you think, bird, and am I the talk of the town, now?"

"I don't just do 'pretty'," she answered, both flattered and offended in one— she was very good at feeling like that. She had put her fingers down and started to play something more classical quietly and softly, but it was building now, to something faster and more intense (3).

Antonio dropped his fingers on her piano, watching her fingers fly about and rise to the higher keys. Damn, he wasn't alone in the experienced genre. "Jesus," He breathed, watching with extreme interest in her right hand, which seemed to move around with such grace.

She went on through the crescendo and then stopped mid-bar and looked over at him, something between a genuine smile and a triumphant smirk on her face. She held up a hand, turning it in front of his face. "See any blood?"

"Y-Yeah, well—!" He stammered, fixing a few too-tight band-aids and shuffling the floor below him.

She had him cornered.

"The keys aren't metal. If your fingers bleed on a piano, you're stupid." He huffed, getting his guitar and showing her. "These are strings, Lovina, they're made of metal and they hurt when you rub on them for too long or too fast."

She snorted, pulling a face at him. "I was messing around; don't get in a state about it..."

Antonio blushed, having gotten physically defensive about it. "So was I,"

"Okay," she agreed, going back to her piano with her eyebrows rose high. "Just for the record, I do know the difference between a piano and a guitar."

"If it makes you feel better, I can't play jack squat on piano." He offered, slinking around and sitting by her on the bench.

"I can't play that either," she answered, resisting slightly nudging along so that he had the tiniest second of difficulty fitting onto the bench beside her. "Any requests?"

Antonio smirked, balling his hand into a fist and rocking it on the keys in a generic piano song that took no skill at all. "Not really, I just wanted to see what you were playing.

She hesitated, looking at her sheet music and back to him. "It's not cheery," she warned him.

"Oh? No cheery songs tonight?" Well, it was only predictable; she had gotten her heart torn out by a silver-haired beer junkie.

She gave a little half-smile to answer him, playing slowly. "It's not all this bad," she assured him.

"Oh," He watched her, seeing no guitar part and settling back down. "It looks nice," he offered.

"I was thinking the break?" She asked— there was a song every night when the rest of the band hurried off for a drink or a toilet break, and she played unaccompanied.

"Yeah! Yeah, that sounds nice." He nodded, knowing he'd stay around anyway to watch her. "I'm sure you'll be beautiful out there, you always are."

She remembered at the very last second that she was not encouraging him, looking back quickly to the keys and humming along. "...thank you," she replied at an instrumental, without much emotion, feeling it was the least she could do.

Antonio deflated a bit, although he had remembered her smile when she was done with her waltzing song, and tried to regain a little hope.

She was so cold, now, and she wondered if this was what it was like being her boyfriend, since she hadn't seen her act really loving to Gilbert's drunken ditching.

"Have you ever thought about getting one of those Finnish cell phones that's unbreakable?" He asked in the middle of her bridge.

She stopped playing; she was so thrown off by that question. "What?" She asked bluntly.

"Well, you're always throwing your phone around, and it's not good for it, see? There's a crack in the screen." He pointed to her phone resting on the ledge of the piano. "And apparently they Finnish cell phones are made out of like, diamond material or something and they can damage floors and doors instead."

Lovina blinked at him and started playing again, more to distract herself than to practice. "I don't think I'll be throwing it around much anymore."

"Just in case you hurl it at my face or something, you can do damage," He mumbled under his breath, sulking just a tad.

She didn't answer him immediately, going on with her song, frowning. "Why would I do that?" She finally sighed, like an aggravated mother. He was swinging from mood to mood very quickly.

"Leaving," He moaned, not wanting to upset her any further and rising from his spot. "Thanks for gracing me with your expertise, Lovina, I love you—r piano skills."

She wasn't sure if he sounded pathetic or sarcastic; a part of her twanged to apologize, so she wasn't sure why she didn't.

"Sorry," she shrugged quietly, surprising herself. "See you later."

"Yeah, yeah,"

Hope you croak on stage.

"See you in the wings, bird~"

"Be careful with those fingers," she tried, looking up at him and giving an awkward little chuckle. "'Bee' careful?"

Antonio had to stop and laugh a spell. So much for being mad at her.

"The bird and the bee," He called after her, sitting back down on his spot.

"Behave," she warned him, with a very unconvincing frown. "And don't make a bee joke out of that."

"Beehive!" He cackled, rolling over onto his stomach. Somehow, everything was a lot funnier when he was lying down.

She stopped herself laughing and scowled at him. "Just...!" She warned, waiting for him to finish for her. He had wiped a few tears from his eyes, looking at her.

"Just what?" He asked after a bit, sitting back up.

Against her will, Lovina smiled, going back to her piano and shaking her head.

"Just play the guitar."

Translation and Song Notes

(1) - "Me too,"

(2) - "Go through his ... texts... "

(3) - Chopin - Waltz Op. 64 No. 2 (Rubinstein)