Chapter 9

I listened quietly to Ignazio speaking in the distance, unaware of anything except the cadence of his richly accented voice. I heard another voice that sounded like Barbara's, and after a few moments I heard a door open and close loudly, bringing me to my senses. I stirred and opened my eyes, looking around at the unfamiliar room in sudden alarm. It looked like my hotel suite, except for the arrangement of the furniture and the belongings placed haphazardly about the room. I was in the bed, curled under the comforter in my T-shirt and jeans. I moved slightly and felt that my feet were bare, and I saw my red high-tops beside the closed bedroom door a few feet away. Someone had taken them off for me. The room was wonderfully quiet, and I relaxed and rolled over to peer out the window at the darkening evening light. I curled up again and closed my eyes, resting quietly for a few minutes before a clinking outside the bedroom reminded me that I was unsure of where I was. I opened my eyes and looked at a photo beside the bed, finding it to contain Ignazio, presumably his parents, and a girl several years older than him, probably his sister.

The smiling face of Ignazio embarrassed me, and I held up the covers and slid out of the bed, prancing over the cold hardwood floor to my red high-tops as I wondered about slipping out of the suite unnoticed.

After I tugged on my shoes and ran a hand through my hair, I raised my hand to the cold doorknob and took a breath before opening it.

Ignazio was sitting on the couch, his back to me as he watched a soccer game in Spanish on the television. He turned, his arm slung over the back of the couch, and smiled at me.

"Good, you're up. I was beginning to think you'd miss dinner, and I didn't want to eat without you."

I stood frozen in the doorway as he turned off the T.V. and stood, coming around the sofa to lean against the back of it and wait for me to speak, a gentle smile lighting his face. His dark eyes shone with careful concern as I stood motionless, embarrassed and unnerved at the mental image of being held in his arms only hours earlier.

"Dinner?" I asked finally, and he nodded and smiled brightly.

He stepped away from the couch and went over to the table in the corner, straightening and gesturing dramatically over it. "Dinner."

There were two plates on the table arrayed fancifully with pancakes, eggs, bacon, and sausage. I gawked at the table, and then at him.

"You made dinner?"

"I made dinner."

"I love breakfast for dinner," I said softly, thinking about the clinking sounds of him moving around in the kitchen that I had heard from the bedroom.

"Then you'll stay?" he asked, pleadingly, clasping his hands together and casting silly puppy-dog eyes at me.

Actually, I wanted nothing more than to slip out and run away from my embarrassment and the awkwardness of having to eventually thank him for taking care of me, but I felt it would be too rude to leave the dinner uneaten, so I crossed cautiously to the table and sat. He smiled and sat in front of me, and I uneasily waited to eat until he started first.

I took a bite of the eggs and couldn't help but smile.

"Good?" he asked.

"Good!"

He nodded in approval and resumed eating, and the quiet made me squirm nervously, waiting for him to bring up the earlier occurrence.

To my surprise, he looked up at me and asked nonchalantly, "So…I doubt you've seen much of it because of how busy we've been, but what do you think of Costa Rica?"

I paused, with my fork halfway to my mouth, and looked up at him in bewilderment.

"Costa Rica?"

He smiled slightly, trying to hide the amusement at my position that his eyes betrayed by shimmering and dancing.

"Yes, Costa Rica."

I lowered my fork.

"Well…it's brilliant! There are so many plants and trees wherever you look, and everything's so lush and green! It's such a beautiful, rich green too! And there are creatures everywhere, crawling all over the place! Monkeys, birds, butterflies, frogs, and snakes, too, but I guess they've got to live somewhere, right? The fruit trees have all these perfect displays of color and life, and the water is so bright and welcoming! And the forests, so secluded and dangerously inviting! I love it! It's perfect!"

I smiled eagerly at him, and then fell silent as I realized that was the most I've probably spoken to him that whole month.

"I agree!" he said back happily, and I smiled slightly at him. "I went out for a walk this morning, and everything's so gorgeous!"

I nodded and listened quietly as he started to describe to me the beauty of places we had yet to visit, and a powerful, excited longing swelled within me as I drank in the information.

Then we talked a bit about the Il Volo concerts I had been present at, and we discussed Michele, Barbara, the band members, and Piero and Gianluca. We laughed about their habits I had observed, like Piero's chewing his tongue and Gianluca's slight obsession with taking selfies.

I was feeling rather friendly toward Ignazio as we ate dinner together, and his warm laugher and hospitable personality eased my nerves and comforted me. He was a great storyteller, and his beautiful accent enriched the stories that captured my attention and made me laugh for the first time in a while.

When we were finished, Ignazio picked up our plates and brought them to the kitchen, and when he turned to me after picking them up, I could tell in his eyes that he was going to say something about earlier. I fell silent as my stomach twisted with unease and embarrassment.

"So, Tamzin, how are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," I immediately responded, and then paused to think about it. I still felt very tired and weak, but the hours of sleep I had stolen from the rehearsal had made me feel a little better.

"Tamzin, I've been commissioned by Michele to get some explanation from you. He was calling a doctor, but I told him to hold off and just let you sleep."

I waited quietly for him to continue, clasping my hands together nervously.

"Why are you so tired all the time?"

Unable to meet his gaze, I looked out the window at the darkened sky, my mind racing as I tried to produce an acceptable response.

"Tamzin."

He said my name firmly, and I looked up and then thought about my camera for the first time since I had awakened.

"Ignazio, where's my camera!?" I asked in alarm, standing up straight and fearfully demanding an answer. He looked surprised at my apprehension, and pointed toward the sofa. I whirled around and hurried over to it, reaching down to scoop it up tightly into my arms, turning it and examining it intently.

I turned it on and flipped through the last few pictures I had taken, making sure they were intact. As I looked through them, a sudden realization hit me and I looked up at Ignazio.

"You didn't look through the photos, did you?" I asked firmly, daring him to try to lie.

He shook his head and shot me a quizzical look.

"No, I didn't. But why couldn't I? You always show them to us anyway."

I held my camera tightly, hiding the landscapes from him as I glared stubbornly at him.

"I still want an answer," he said firmly.

I slung the camera over my shoulder and crossed my arms.

"About what?"

"Why are you so tired? Are you scared about something? Are you sick? What's wrong?"

I raised my eyebrows and kept my mouth shut, shooting him a defiant message that I wouldn't enlighten him.

He sighed and ran a hand slowly through his hair as his eyes flicked upward and he thought. When he looked back at me, his eyes took on a gentle appearance, and he tilted his head and gazed softly at me.

"Tamzin," he said quietly, and it was so soft and tender that I dropped my arms and listened curiously. "You can't keep working when you're that tired."

I stared bewilderedly at him, and then through him as the words rang true in my mind.

He was right. I couldn't keep doing this. I couldn't live all of my days in exhaustion, deprived of sleep as Ignazio had mentioned earlier. Something would have to give in, and that something was my physical strength and ability to work. I had already fainted once, and I couldn't allow it to happen again. I realized with an inward groan that I couldn't expect all the symptoms Ignazio had mentioned-the headaches, dozing, and sensitivity to cold- to dissipate as long as I continued living like I was. I had to start sleeping like a normal person, gaining more than just a few short hours each night. Otherwise, I would have more days where working felt impossible and exhausting. I felt relief run through my tired body at the idea of getting more sleep, the thought of allowing myself some time to lie down and close my eyes.

But what did that mean? Where would I take the hours of sleep from? Immediately I knew, and I stiffened with an irrepressible protest.

No! I shouted inwardly. No! I will not give up the landscapes! I may not be able to work for National Geographic right now, but I need to have the landscapes!

A powerful sorrow filled me at the realization of the necessity of the sacrifice. I struggled inwardly, anguished as I fought to find a way to keep the wild outdoor romps that were so dear to me. I sifted frantically through arguments, searching for one that would justify my committal to my landscapes and coming up empty-handed. Preparing for my future was not a good excuse to hold myself to a point of exhaustion so terrible that I could not physically bear it.

My breath came faster as I felt everything I had struggled to keep slipping away.

I realized that I could no longer have such a big commitment to my landscapes. Occasionally I might be able to find the time to gather some, but continuing the daily romps was impossible. If I was going to be the photographer for Il Volo, then I had to entirely commit myself and hold onto nothing else. Working for Il Volo was a huge responsibility, and it now had to be more than just a responsibility of mine. It had to become the main focus of my life.

Despair coursed through me as the thrill of my outdoor photography sessions was pulled away and replaced by a responsibility that I didn't care so much to have.

"Tamzin?" Ignazio asked concernedly, pulling me momentarily from drowning in my agony. "You have a strange look on your face."

I focused on him with an anguished look in my eyes, and we stared at each other.

"Why can't you tell me what's making you so tired?" Ignazio asked gently, and frustration exploded within me as he tried to coax my ambitions out of me.

"Because it's MINE!" I shouted hysterically, startling him, "All day long I force myself to work for you guys, and this is the one thing that's exclusively mine! I don't want to let go of it, and all of you, ALL OF YOU, are trying to pull it away! Can't I keep it for myself!? Can I PLEASE keep it!?"

I was shouting at him in desperate fury, as if I yelled loud enough I wouldn't have to part from my landscapes. As the words surprised Ignazio and he looked at me in startled confusion, my eyes filled involuntarily with tears that immediately brimmed over and rolled down my cheeks.

My chest twisted as my fury faltered and was replaced by deep distress.

"Tamzin!" Ignazio immediately approached me with quick strides, and I drew back quickly, longing to escape.

"I'll figure something out! Goodnight, Ignazio!" I said, my voice broken and woeful, and I turned and yanked open the door, darting into the hallway and rushing to my room.

"Tamzin, hold on! Wait!" Ignazio called, and I sprinted down the hallway and frantically opened the door to my room as Ignazio called my name in the hallway. I turned to hurriedly close it, but Ignazio appeared and caught it, holding it open.

"Go away! Leave me alone!" I cried at him through my tears, struggling frantically against the door and trying to shut him out.

"Tamzin, hold on," he said gently, his eyes filled with worry as he refused to let me close it.

"I'm okay!" I said, trying to stop the tears and failing.

"Tamzin, the last time you told me you were okay you fainted in my arms! Besides, you're not okay. You're crying!"

I blushed violently and pulled away when he pushed open the door and moved to come inside the room, sighing irrepressibly in despair and then glaring at him. I went to the sofa and dropped down on it, quickly pulling my camera from around my neck and placing it gently on the coffee table.

I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my head in my hands and cried quietly, unwilling to let him hear me sob but wishing he would go away. Instead, he quietly closed the door and came to sit beside me on the sofa. I moved away and sat at the end of the couch, hiding my face from him. Anguished tears rolled down my cheeks as I thought about having to get rid of my exhilarating daily photo sessions. I clenched my hands in frustration and longing to be able to keep them, but knowing that I couldn't. I had to focus on Il Volo and my physical health, and put aside the landscapes for now. I tried to reassure myself, reminding myself that I could still go out sometimes, but I seemed to be absorbed only in the many lost photography sessions.

"Tamzin," Ignazio said gently, "You don't have to tell me whatever it is. Just make sure you take care of yourself, okay? You have to get some rest."

"I know. I will," I said, muffled, into my hands.

"Hey," he said gently, and I felt him move closer to me on the sofa. I felt his warm hand rest gently on my back, and I lifted my head to peer up at him.

"It'll be okay," he said softly, moving his hand up my back to gently stroke my hair. "Things will get better. We're always busiest when we're in Latinoamerica."

I looked up at him, hoping that he was right, that things would get better.

I hid my face again, and he kept his hand on my back, gently reminding me of his presence as I quietly reflected on his words.

"I'm sorry," I said sadly and softly after a minute, raising my head and looking into his gentle eyes as I wiped my tears. "I'm just tired."

"I know," he said softly, and leaned forward to reach an arm around me and pull me toward him for a hug.

I stiffened, but when his arms went gently around me I sat still and didn't protest. He was warm and gentle, and his grip was firm and comforting. I cautiously moved my arm around his broad shoulders and he held me tight as I quickly wiped my watering eyes so my tears wouldn't wet his blue polo shirt.

"This is always the busiest time of the touring, when we go through Latinoamerica.," he said again as he hugged me, reassuring me, "We move so quickly that it's hard to catch your breath."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see it the way he was holding me.

"Things will slow down soon, and it'll be better," he said soothingly, his hand gently running up and down my back.

"Ignazio," I said, pulling back from him and wiping my eyes again before I looked into his dark, gentle ones. I looked down and fidgeted with my hands. "I'm sorry I was…rude to you before."

"It's alright. Like you said, you're just tired."

"No," I said. "Not only earlier. I mean this whole month. I'm not usually this mean, I promise."

I looked up at him and found him smiling brightly down at me.

"It's alright, Tamzin," he said, reaching up and tucking the blonde strands of hair hanging in my face behind me ear. "You're just adjusting to the new job. It's stressful."

"Um…sure," I said, avoiding his gaze.

"Tamzin, if you're willing to tell me, I still want to know why you were so happy a few weeks ago, that morning when I was on the porch and you came in from outside. You were laughing to yourself, and you were so happy. That's the only time I've seen you truly happy this month. I realize it probably involves whatever you don't want me to know, but what were you doing that was so important you got up at five in the morning to do it?"

I looked down at my red high-tops and thought about it, and Ignazio remained quiet, waiting to see if I would answer. I looked sadly at my camera on the coffee table and then up at Ignazio.

"It's not so important anymore. At least, it can't be. For now, anyway."

He looked at me quizzically, and I sighed at the painful truth of it, leaning my head against my fist and turning to look out the darkened window. For a while, I had to part from my landscapes. I knew that if I took pictures the next day, I'd want to take pictures when we went to our next location, and that would convince me to continue my created tradition of photographing every location we went to. I had to break the chain. I looked sadly at the window, and my eyes filled with pained tears yet again.

I could feel Ignazio watching me, and when I turned to look at him I was surprised to find that he was watching me with a concerned, somber expression. As I looked up at him, he reached out to pat me comfortingly on the knee, distracting me from my thoughts with a sweet smile.

"Let me tell you a story," he said with a bright smile, and I wordlessly consented, suspecting he was trying to turn my thoughts away from what he saw was bothering me and hoping that he would succeed.

For the first time, I heard the story of how he became the singer he was: in 2009 he started his career on the Italian TV competition Ti Lascio Una Canzone, and though Gianluca ultimately won the competition, the three boys joined together to create Il Volo.

Ignazio described to me the beginnings of their career together and the making of their first album. I listened curiously, feeling that I should know this information if I was working for them. Ignazio added special flair to his storytelling, telling side jokes and sub-stories, and playfully reenacting crucial moments for me.

I smiled and listened, watching him as he lavished all of his attention on me and attempted to pull me away from my distress.

The story successfully lightened my mood, and when he sang to me I felt serene and upbeat. As I listened to the rich cadence and accent of his voice, my sleepiness told hold of me and I leaned back against the couch in surrender to the fatigue. I kept listening as my eyes grew heavy and closed, and soon I heard the pleasant sound of his hushed laughter.

"Tamzin," he said softly, and I opened my eyes wearily and saw him smiling at me. I closed my eyes again and wearily turned my face away, and he reached out and placed a hand on my arm. "Don't let me keep you up, Tamzin. Get up and into bed. You need to sleep for a long while tonight."

I nodded slightly and reached out my hand for a hold to pull myself up, and I opened my eyes as I felt his hand intertwine with mine. He stood and gently pulled me up with him. He reached out and enveloped me in a warm hug and kissed my cheek, making me shy sleepily away from him.

"Goodnight, Tamzin. Sweet dreams," he said softly, and then stepped backwards and showed himself out of the room.