A/N: I don't know why I'm writing for a barely-known fandom but I am. I guess you could say that season two of Baby really frustrated me. I just couldn't let the stupid 'what ifs' go. So here I am, posting a random story that will see even more random, sporadic update times. Lovely.

Anyway, dear readers, buckle in for a pretty wild, emotional ride. Because when is Baby ever devoid of intense drama, bad decisions and emotions?

Till next time,

Drama :D

Saved by the bell. In Chiara Altieri's case, those words couldn't be any less true as she heard the sweet relief of the school's bell echoing around the building's halls. What was meant to be a quick ten minute break ended up feeling like one that could last an entire day, Niccolo, Camilla and Brando's watching eyes definitely not doing her any favours. Never before had the pressure felt like this. Never before, ever since she had followed Ludovica into this secret double life, had Chiara actually felt like she had everything to lose.

Before, it was a game. Before, the consequences were minimal - a bitter afterthought that was often chased away by parties and a large gulp of alcohol. Now, though, with Brando dangling that video of her like fresh bait to a fish, Chiara could definitely say that she was feeling the consequences. Trying to please everyone was becoming a pain: Fiore had her under lock and key; her parents were becoming more observant; and Damiano... she just wanted to make sure that he didn't get involved. Fiore didn't protect him in the ways he protected her.

"I'll see you guys in five," Sending the group a wane smile, Chiara watched as her "friends" all went back to class, dissipating from the corridors with all of the other students. All too soon it was only her left, even the stragglers gone from the halls and leaving only silence. Empty, heavy silence.

Finally. Some peace.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Chiara couldn't help but bury her face within her hands. Stinging, tears wanted to pour from her eyes, speak out into the silence in a way her words could not. Was this what she had been building up to? Years of living unsatisfied, floating around in her pristine tank, longing for the sea, was she only destined to end up being eaten alive within it?

Brando De Sanctis was a prick. Scratch that - he was an asshole, the biggest, most insensitive and cruel human being she had ever come across. Even Saverio - may his piece of shit ways rest in hell - had never been so horrible. Yes, Chiara had feared what he could do. Yes, while he had lived, she had feared every possible action he could take. But at least he did not play in the conniving, deceptive ways that Brando did. At least he gave her a chance to bite back.

But Brando? He wouldn't hesitate to ruin herself along with him. Even when she'd told him about Fiore, the price that came with sharing the video, he still dangled it before her. He still used it against her. What an ignorant fuck.

Resting her head against the hard concrete of the wall, Chiara let out another sigh. In moments like these, she found herself wondering just why she had to be born into this life. Why, just why, Ludovica Storti had chosen her to befriend. That friendship had led to now, to Damiano being the victim of her own foolish mistakes as well as Ludovica's.

Wiping away the shadow traces of tears on her cheeks, Chiara tried to get herself together. Class was due to start in two minutes. She needed to brush up her act or Brando would remind her about the video, about the binding seal on their stupid agreement.

"Right, pudding bowl?" No doubt he'd whisper it right into her ear, squeezing her cheeks with an almost bruising force between his skinny fingers. clearly, he'd never been taught about how to behave around a woman. "You wouldn't want anyone to know."

No. She wouldn't. Not ever. If anyone saw that video then Chiara's life was over - both figuratively and literally. Everyone would know the truth; Fiore would be out for blood.

Sniffing as she pushed off the cold, hard wall, Chiara decided to head back to class. Too much time had passed and Brando would be suspicious. As she began to walk off, she caught a glimpse of the last person she'd ever wanted to see. Lingering across from her, looking just as lost and desolate as her, hands stuffed into the pockets of his school blazer, was Damiano Younes. The owner of her heart. The boy she had to break up with in order to protect him.

Concern pinched at his face, made his brows furrow as he looked at her with those dark brown eyes of his. No doubt he'd picked up on the signals she'd been trying to mute around him. Words weren't always needed for Chiara to communicate with Damiano - that was the beauty of their relationship. Together, in their own little bubble, they could coexist without a single word. Every thought, every feeling, could be sensed through silence alone.

"Chiara!"

Instantly, her heart picked up in speed. Much more jittery than usual, Chiara hurried in her footsteps, racing to yank open her classroom door and escape from him. They couldn't talk. Not like this. Not here. Not ever.

"We need to talk," Beating her in the race, Damiano was beside her in seconds. Stood to the side, angled just right so that she couldn't open the door entirely, he looked at her with an expression that screamed out pain. Confusion. Agony.

Within her chest, Chiara's heart couldn't help but feel pained because of that. Wounded and pinched and stabbed. What felt like mere seconds ago, she was forced to break up with him. In order to protect him, Chiara had to smash Damiano's heart into tiny pieces and then, straight after - as if to rub salt into the already gaping wound -, announce her relationship with Brando. Make it look like she had never loved him.

Thousands of questions probably plagued Damiano with every passing second. Too many unbearable thoughts must have crossed his mind ever since Chiara had called things off.

But, as much as she wanted to, Chiara couldn't tell him anything. Not now. Not yet. Probably not ever. Telling the truth was simply too dangerous. Telling Damiano about her line of work, just why Ludovica had been in that car with him when Saverio died, would reveal way too much. And, if Chiara revealed that truth, she would probably lose him. For good.

"I can't talk right now," Was her feeble excuse, muttered from quiet lips. Even now, when she should just ignore Damiano and move on, she was lingering by the door. Part of her was contemplating the alternative: talking to him. "I'll be late for class."

"I don't give a shit," Taking her hand from the door, Damiano dragged her away, toward the corridor. "Come on."

Not bothering to protest, Chiara allowed herself to follow him along the familiar maze of corridors that made up their school. Past the lockers, the machine with its shitty coffee and all the classrooms they went. All too soon they were heading up toward the roof, cold air hitting Chiara's face and drying the trails left by her tears as she stared ahead. All of their footsteps echoed on the metal steps, vibrating along the frame.

Once they'd reached the top of the steps, Damiano turned to ensure that she was following, before pulling her along with him, right near the edge that overlooked the entire area surrounding Instituto C. Collodi. The landmark of their teenaged mistakes.

When they'd first came up here together, after the shittiest day in history, they had laughed about it together. Being up on that rooftop, being what felt like a million miles away from reality, they had both found some kind of peace. Just like when they'd gone to that lake, first kissed in those waters lined by their muddy banks. Escapism wasn't hard when they were together; they made each other peaceful.

Even now, her heart pumping at a million miles per hour, Chiara longed for that peace. Tugging at her brain, whispering into her ear, it was telling her to just relax, to finally crack under the pressure, tell him everything she knew.

But how could she? How could Chiara tell Damiano the painful truth?

"Tell me what the fuck's going on," Looking her dead in the eye, voice almost a firm bark, Damiano had her close to breaking. Even if he wasn't emotional yet, no tears or shouts or yells, she could sense the anguish behind his pained eyes. Effortlessly she could catch the warbling that wanted to enter his voice. He loved her. Damiano Younes loved her. But, even so, she still had to deny the truth. How could she ever explain it to him? What would Brando do if he knew she had told Damiano about it all?

"I told you already," Chiara responded, refusing to shiver despite the pretty chilly winds up on the rooftop. Normally she'd have a lot more layers on than her school uniform - often a hoodie or a jacket that went with whatever outfit she'd chosen. Normally she wouldn't feel so tense up here. "Nothing's changed since the last time we spoke."

Yeah, he didn't believe that. While his face conveyed it all, almost like an unbelieving eye roll, Chiara could just tell from the change in the air between them. Damiano knew her too well. Damiano could read her like a book. It was stupid of her to even think that he wouldn't care anymore. That he would just drop it and move on like everyone else would. Damiano wasn't like them; Damiano wasn't like her.

"Did you really leave me for that asshole?" Moving onto the next question, not giving her time to breathe, Damiano continued with his interrogation. Wild, frenzied, he was grasping for a truth that Chiara was trying desperately not to let loose. If she did it could never be reversed. But if she lied... she knew it would destroy him. Completely.

Hand running through his short hair, Damiano scoffed, "If it's something I did, fucking tell me! Were you screwing around on me?"

No. None of it was ever him. None of it could ever be him. Everything that was wrong was her, Chiara, the person who destroyed everything she touched. Her parents' marriage, Ludovica, now him. Everything Chiara Altieri touched managed to quake and crumble into fine dust beneath her dainty fingertips. Why couldn't Damiano see that? Why couldn't he just... let her go?

"So why then?" Quieter now, almost breathless, Damiano asked the sealing question. Judging from his expression, he must have caught her tiny head shake - the truth she couldn't deny. "Why Chiara?"

"Because I don't love you anymore," That was what she was meant to say - to keep him safe, to keep him out of it, she was meant to tell Damiano that wicked, burning lie. "You have to move on."

Brando was pushing her in that direction. Fiore, knowing that Damiano was her soft spot, had always pushed her in that direction. Both of them knew that losing Damiano would be her breaking point. Once she lost Damiano, once she lost it all, Chiara would enter a free fall. She would shatter and splinter entirely. And in that free fall she could end up doing anything, could spiral deeper into her already dangerous double life.

Losing Damiano was a certainty it seemed - no matter what Chiara did, no matter how much she fought. Why would he want her anyway? She was the girl with a secret double life. She was the girl who destroyed everything she touched. Beneath it all, she was simply a destructive force, someone who only ended up harming others much more than she could ever help them.

Yet, she still craved to have him in her life. Caring and attentive, Damiano provided something that Chiara had sorely lacked in her life ever since her parents' marriage had gone to shit. No-one really cared for her, was there for her in ways that didn't mean judging her choices or scolding her decisions. But Damiano was. Beneath his rugged exterior, filled with attitude and habits picked up from the poorer parts of the city, he did care. Softly brushing back her hair, picking up on her prickly body language cues, he was there to care. To understand. Only him. Just him. No-one else.

So why couldn't she tell him the truth?

"Damiano, I..." Biting her lip, letting out a firm sigh, Chiara fought with herself. In the past she'd told Ludovica that their double life wasn't Damiano's business. She'd told herself that no-one else would know - could know - about what she did. That was the oath. That was their promise.

"It's not that I don't love you anymore," Chiara decided to let that much loose, slipped from between her lips like an admission to a long-lost feeling that had always been there. "If anything it's the opposite. I love you so much that I have to do this. I have to..." Swallowing thickly, she buried the bile that rose in her throat, "Be Brando's girlfriend."

"But why?" Damiano responded, full of disbelief. Shaking his head, almost weak from the confession, he leaned against the roof's edge, looking out over the city. "If you love me then why?"

So many times Chiara had asked herself that very question. If she loved Damiano then why did she still work for Fiore, crave the thrill that came from working as an escort? If she loved Damiano then why did she bend to Brando's whims, sacrifice her own relationship just so her secret wouldn't get out? Was Damiano an excuse? Was she... selfish?

Maybe. Perhaps. But then it all stemmed back to Ludovica, a year ago, when Chiara was at her most vulnerable and looking for someone - anyone - to care for her. Niccolo used her because he had seen that in her, had manipulated the fact that she wanted to be loved; Camilla had never noticed the cracks, didn't care enough to look; Fabio had always been loyal to Camilla. Back then, only Ludovica had noticed and not taken advantage. At least, until she let Damiano into her inner circle.

And that was when Chiara stopped working as an escort.

"It's not that simple," Releasing what must have been her millionth sigh, Chiara shook her head as she stood beside him. Dangling over the ledge, her elbows rested on the ridge as silent tears tracked down her face. "I'm the girl who destroys everything she touches. I've destroyed so much already and I don't want to destroy you too, Damiano. To keep you safe I have to do this."

"To keep me safe?" Damiano turned to her, his confusion now patched with frustration. Again, Chiara felt her heart stab with pain. He never stopped caring about her. He never stopped looking out for her. Even when she had ruined him, hurt him, he was still worried about her. "Are you even listening to yourself, Chiara? What could you possibly be keeping me safe from?"

Now that was the hard part. This part was the breaking point - the time in which she would either shatter or crumble from what would happen next. Either way she would probably lose him. Whether she told the truth or not, Chiara could tell that Damiano would no longer remain with her. How could he? Knowing that she was a liar, a no-good liar who slept with random men just for the thrill of it?

Nevertheless, she had to try. Even if it would cost her everything, even if it meant Damiano would dump her ass. He was the one person she couldn't stand lying to, not when all he'd ever done was care.

"Fiore," Chiara whispered out, her voice a quiet thing against the winds. Rubbing at her knuckles, her infamous nervous trait, she continued, "I'm the reason why you don't have to work for him anymore."

"Fiore?" Damiano echoed. Now he had paled a bit, pulling out a cigarette in what was probably an attempt to steel himself. Flicking on his lighter, he sparked it to life as he lit up his cigarette and took in a large puff. "How the fuck do you know him, Chiara?"

"I work for him," Was her answer, a small shrug as she accepted the cigarette he'd passed to her. An indirect kiss. Not a bad sign. "In exchange for you and Ludovica's freedom."

"You didn't need to do that!" Damiano hissed, a dark expression passing over his face. But he wasn't angry - no, his anger was usually a lot more explosive. Instead he seemed disappointed. "Not for me."

"Yes I did!" Chiara disagreed, pursing her lips as she stared ahead at the horizon. Clear blue, the sky held so many promises that the earth simply could not. Sometimes she wished she was a bird, able to fly a million miles away from her own path of destruction. "Fiore will protect me better than he will ever protect you. At least, this way, you won't get hurt."

"But what about you, Chia?" Damiano demanded, white smoke leaving from his lips. Turning back to her, brows angled with irritation, he asked, "What about yourself? Don't you get hurt from all of this?"

"I do," She admitted, humming as she took the cigarette from him once more. Small, tiny, she smiled as the smoke left from between her lips, "But it's worth it if I can know that you're safe."

At least, that much was conveyed between them - no matter how agitated he seemed with her situation. No doubt he would do something drastic; Damiano had always been that kind of person. Acting out, causing a scene, was his usual reaction to something like this. There was no way he'd let it continue on like this, even if he stayed with her or not. He genuinely cared about her. He cared too much about her.

"Chiara," Soft, his voice felt like a lullaby as he stared at her, dark eyes meeting hers. Nose-to-nose, almost lip-to-lip, they were close enough to share the same air supply. On top of the cold ledge, she could feel his hand wrap around hers. "Don't give up on me. I told you that I don't want to lose you and I don't want it to be over something stupid like this."

"I know, Damiano," She whispered back, almost a silent thing on their rooftop - a million miles away from Rome, Parioli, Collodi. "But this is important."

Even though he kissed her in that moment, her salty tears intertwined with their lips, Chiara knew that this wasn't over with. They would still talk about it. They would most likely have an argument over it because dropping her night job wasn't an option. Dropping Brando wouldn't be either - as long as he had that damned tape he practically owned her.

But, in that moment, Chiara allowed herself to crumble. Like fine pieces of porcelain, splintering and chipping all over concrete, Chiara allowed her mask to slip off and completely break. Clutching onto Damiano, taking in deep breaths as she sobbed, Chiara shattered, and when they left that rooftop, two separate people with two different lives, she pieced herself back together.

For him, she would have to keep doing this. For him, she would have to keep living this life.

It was the only way to keep them both safe.