Disclaimer: The Vocaloids featured in this story obviously do not belong to me. They belong to their rightful owners which includes Zero-G and Voctro Labs.
Notes/Comment: Since we've had a small look at what Bruno and Clara were doing before meeting Tonio, it's not Tonio's turn with a brief telling of his own. Hopefully this won't cause anybody to doze off from boredom.
By the way, if you guys want to check out Tonio's background story even more: check out "He May Not Remember Me, but I Remember Him" in my profile. It's a three-chapter story with over eleven thousand words which I hope will be entertaining to some.
Anyway, enough talk. Please enjoy!
Time alone.
Underneath his breath, he hummed "La Donna e Mobile" as he brought his shampoo-covered hands to his hair and began to scrub at the hair he had just washed yesterday. He felt he needed to get away from Bruno and Clara. It wasn't as though he disliked them, certainly wasn't the case. In fact, Tonio was all right in their presence...
It's simply...simply...
He stopped scrubbing his hair with a small frown, letting his arms drop to his side. Tonio grabbed the bar of soap and started to wash his olive-coloured skin.
...
Alright, so he wasn't used to people saying how great he sung. Whenever he was with the Zero-G workers and had to record a demo or something else, the opera singer almost stumbled over his words if he overheard positive things being spoken about him.
Why though? Why on earth did he always react in such a way, in such a manner that he nearly blushed every time?
Tonio, once he ran his fingers through his hair to check to see if there was any residue, carefully opened an eye so he could find the conditioner. He squint his eye at the name of the conditioner - Heno de Pravia - which shared the name with the shampoo. He opened the top and took a sniff, immediately liking the scent.
He paused from humming the rest of the song. Now quiet, the Italian squirt a plentiful amount of conditioner into his palm, then he started to massage his scalp with the slippery substance. In a skillful way, his fingers slid through his hair but hitting the occasional tangle which soon gave itself up.
Tonio allowed himself to close his eye and his mind to wander whichever way.
"Una furtiva lagrima...negli occhi suoi spuntò..."
A beautiful tenor's voice - whose name was Enrico Caruso - began to sing inside his head, then a visual flashed into his thoughts. It was a young man, possibly age nineteen or a tad younger, sitting on a twin sized bed. His eyes were fixated upon the source of the music playing: his desktop computer. In the boy's hand was a martini glass, filled with the alcoholic drink. The teenager's eyes were filled with doubt and - perhaps - sadness. What for? Why was he disheartened?
And why did the boy looked similar to him? Yes, he lacked facial hair and his hair was shoulder-length instead of being shorter; however, Tonio wasn't dense enough to ignore how he and the boy took on other similarities.
Oh Lord, the music or only the vocals caused his body's temperature to rise, but Tonio tried ignoring it and let the shower water rinse him off.
A part of him hoped he didn't have to feel awkwardly shy and blush at every given moment while he lived with the two Spanish Vocaloids; especially since this would be the first time he had to socialize with others for so long...
Before he came here, he was pretty much alone.
Day after day, Tonio would wake up in the flat he was given by Zero-G. The two room flat only had basic furnishing since the opera singer didn't feel he needed much otherwise. Well, there was a vintage record player he went out and bought, along with a few records to enjoy. His closet, which he opened every day around eight in the morning, was filled with two or three tuxedos since he didn't know what else he would wear.
Of course, he had a set of pyjamas, robe, and slippers for whenever he wanted to feel relaxed.
Every day, he'd drink coffee and water to wake himself and then take-out from a small place next to the building he was in. He never honestly felt alone at first, but the longer he was around, the longer he came to the conclusion that he needed people to talk to or hang around with. The only issue was he couldn't seem to figure out what to say if he was ever given a chance to interact beyond a "hello" to a store employee.
Tonio would soon be brought back and forth from Italy to the United Kingdom with the thanks of Zero-G so they could continue observing his vocals in case the company needed to "fix" him.
When he was first told that, a voice in the back of his head said, "I wish you would fix me. Please, I don't want to be a joke."
He, Tonio, never thought like that before, so hearing that comment caused him to question himself. Did he have a self-esteem problem and he never bothered to realise it? Soon, he wondered about himself. The opera Vocaloid couldn't remember what he had been doing prior to living in that flat. At first, he assumed Zero-G built him then was released to live independently; however, a part of him didn't believe it.
One day, while he laid himself in his twin-sized bed around midnight and his eyes began to drift, he heard a woman's voice, gently calling inside his mind:
"Antonello? Are you in here? Miss Bellamy told me you looked sick. Are you feeling all right? Please..."
"That's not my name," he mumbled at the voice without a bother to wonder who on earth was the woman, for he would've rather falling asleep.
"Antonello," she continued, "you're the best student I have. I know you'll do every one of us proud!"
Tonio opened his eyes half way. Was she going to say more?
"An-Antonello, are you drunk? Why did you drink so much? Is there something you want to talk about?"
His right hand, from its position underneath the pillow, clutched the grey cushion whilst he listened on. There was something about her voice which stirred his heart to beat louder. Why?
For a few minutes, he waited to see if she would speak once more, but he was only met with silence. Somewhat disappointed, the Vocaloid sighed through his nose before he slowly drifted to sleep.
The following morning arrived...
Good afternoon, Tonio!
We, at Zero-G, have decided that you might be feeling a bit lonely, so you are being sent to Spain while we finish everything else for you. For the next year, you will be living with two other Vocaloids that are under development. By tomorrow, we will contact you via mobile phone with more information.
Warm Regards,
Zero-G Ltd.
Tonio read the message left in his e-mail by the company which took care of him. He wasn't certain how to react. On one hand: he would be around other Vocaloids. In contrast: ...well, he wasn't sure how the others would perceive him. Tonio had been looking up on other Vocaloids and soon discovered the "meh" reception of how the Vocaloids were considered until a "Miku Hatsune" came along and swept the people off their feet.
Then...there was the fact that he sung opera. Opera was a love of his, yes; however, he was aware how much it has aged. Younger generations weren't into the genre as much as older ones were. Granted, there were exceptions of younger people - such as himself - enjoying opera and older people showing a dislike for it, but...each to their own.
He shut the laptop down, his thoughts never ceasing to trouble him. Tonio sighed quietly. When he opened the window, he hoped some fresh air could calm him. Ah, that lovely breeze whizzing felt perfect...
Tonio shut his eyes and let the breeze do its work.
Suddenly, the voice of the woman from last night rung out:
"Hello there, everyone! I'll be your teacher during your time here at Tammaro. My name is Madame Primrose Bianchi, but you're free to call me whatever you want."
He shook his head to get rid of the voice, as though that would even remotely work. Tonio huffed then opened his eyes to look outside the window. Perhaps the views outside might soothe his nerve.
Oh, there was the fountain which proudly displayed itself in front of the building! A small smile came to his face at the crystal clear water below. Tonio leaned forward a little with both hands supporting his body by holding onto the windowsill.
The Vocaloid's eyes began to drift from the peace surrounding him, but then something flashed before his eyes: one of him falling over a golden railing inside of a theatre with a woman below but far enough not to get crushed by him.
He jumped and forced himself away from the windowsill, holding a hand to his chest. Good God, what was that?
"...fuck this," he grumbled. "I'm going to take a nap."
Tonio reluctantly went with the background that he was a student at an opera school whenever anybody asked his life's story; although, a section of him had a feeling this made-up story with its flashes and voices could've been the absolute truth.
But that was in the past.
Tonio threw on his loose-fitting shirt, finally shoving away things that occur not so long ago but not enough to where he should dwell on them. He checked his reflection in the mirror to see if he looked appropriate. Combing his hair wasn't necessary, the trousers he chose weren't tight nor saggy, and the grey top he donned didn't hug him or appeared too large.
He took a breath through his nose whilst running a hand through his hair, his eyes focused ahead still.
Maybe he wouldn't have to worry about these weird images and that woman's voice ever again. He'll probably be too busy interacting and getting to know Bruno and Clara for a year in this hotel suite. Besides, he was about to start an actual life, and he wanted to make sure he was refreshed and ready to go when the time came.
to be continued