Page 77 of Giovanni
He interlaces our fingers, having me walk with him to the line-up, sending a squeeze through our joined hands before I have to leave to get to my seat. Pride swells in my chest as tears well into my eyes. Swiftly brushing away my tears, I go through the bustling backstage corridors towards the area alive with brilliant lights, shouts of encouragement echoing as competitors take the stage, and the rhythmic pulse of music reverberating from the speakers above.
I weave through the rows and aisles to our seats at the front of the stage, a connection Sebastian secured to ensure we had the best seats in the house, according to him. I firstencountered Sebastian and Chloe during a Valentine’s dinner at an upscale restaurant in the museum district that spiraled into an impromptu city night on the town for our group of six, including Paolo and Taylor.
“How’s Giovanni holding up?”
Chloe’s anxious blue eyes flicker to mine momentarily as she asks, concern etched on her face, as she peeks at the competitors on stage and then back to me.
“He’s okay, a bit nervous?—”
“That pussy, he needs to man up,” Sebastian interrupts, causing Chloe to swiftly hit his chest with the back of her hand.
“Sebastian!” Her glare is sharp enough to push him back in his seat as she leans across him to talk to me. “Ignore him.”
Chastened, Sebastian retreats, his fingers absentmindedly twirling the end of her blonde ponytail.
“I just meant that I told him he’d take home the title when we hit the gym the other day.”
“Well, say that instead to Kacie.”
She doesn’t let him off the hook, something I noticed at dinner that night. But with how those two look at each other, I can tell they give as much as they get. Especially when he ordered jello shots for the table and tried to eat them off Chloe, to which she murmured something about doing that later. It was enough for me to mind my own business, resume eating, and be thankful that the only thing Giovanni got on me was his saliva and cum.
Paolo and Taylor, on the other hand, were completely different. He was much more thoughtful, having written her a poem and gifting her a small gold bracelet with cookies and cups engraved on it. The significance eluded me, but the tenderness in her gaze as she nestled into him spoke volumes—it was private, a shared secret that belonged to them.
A sudden burst of anxiety breaks hold, whispering doubts and fears. What if he’s not happy with his performance? What if this doesn’t go as he’s dreamed?
“There he is.”
Paolo points. His voice rises above the roar of applause as the line of competitors strikes their poses before the judges.
“He looks incredible.”
Taylor says something inaudible over the crowd. All eyes turn to him, waiting offstage as he shifts to the side to watch the other contenders below his weight class. I know he's ready when I see the determination in his eyes and the set of his jaw. No matter what happens on that stage, he’s already won in many ways. My love for him deepens, seeing him so dedicated to his passion.
Waiting to enter the stage, Giovanni’s breathing is controlled, unlike mine, coming out in shallow breaths with butterflies swimming in my stomach. His focus is unwavering. His concentration is unyielding, and in that moment, I see not just the bodybuilder but the man I love, ready to take on the world.
The announcer’s voice thunders through the venue, summoning Giovanni’s division to the spotlight like gladiators entering an arena. My heart faces in my chest, my eyes following him as he steps into the light, ready to show the judges, his fellow competitors and the audience the level of his commitment and dedication.
This stage today and a few more in the coming months until he hits the ultimate stage this fall to compete for Mr. Olympia. Tears stream down my face, and when our eyes connect, he winks, that sassy little one he reserves for his striptease routine.
The lights accentuate the contours of his well-sculpted physique. He moves with a grace that belies his size, executing each pose with precision and confidence that he and Frankpracticed hundreds of times in the mirrors of the kickboxing room at the gym.
From my vantage point, I can see the minute changes in his expression and the slight tightening of his muscles as he transitions from one pose to another. It truly is a dance of strength and artistry.
Around me, the audience reacts to each competitor, but my focus remains unwaveringly on Giovanni. His performance is not just a display of physical prowess. It’s a narrative of his journey. Completing his business plan, presenting it to his father, and with a marginal win of giving him one year to succeed as a bodybuilder or go into medicine put that bright and victorious smile on his face.
As the competitors are called for the final lineup, the tension in the air thickens. The judges’ deliberations feel like an eternity. My heart races in sync with my bouncing legs, every fiber of my being hoping for his victory, not just for the title, but for the affirmation of his dreams and proving it to his father.
Finally, the announcer’s voice breaks through the suspense, ready to declare the results that could change the trajectory of Giovanni’s career. A hush falls over the crowd, every eye fixed on the stage. The competitors sway nervously, some continuing to pose while others look around or down at the stage.
As the announcer calls out the fifth to third-place winners and watches them pose for pictures, none of them are Giovanni, and I’m awash in relief and growing excitement. My mind blurs when I hear the second place winner, sending a shock wave through every member of our group and me.
“And the winner is . . . Giovanni Marconi!”
The announcement thunders overhead, and I jump to my feet, whistling and clapping. The crowd erupts into thunderous applause. Giovanni’s face lights up with disbelief and then triumph. He looks around, almost as if to confirm that thismoment is real. The event organizers pat him on the back, congratulating him on his well-deserved victory while his winnings are detailed as they take pictures.
I can’t contain my joy. Tears of happiness mingle with my earlier ones. I cheer along with the crowd, my heart swelling with pride. Beaming with excitement, Sebastian throws his arm around my shoulders and gives me a friendly side hug, jostling me slightly in his enthusiasm.
Giovanni’s gaze finds mine, and we share a moment. While it’s his accomplishment, I feel deeply honored to have supported him through his ups and downs and his unwavering effort in achieving it. His name is shouted from different directions for pictures. He humbly shakes hands with the officials before they disperse, leaving him to set the items he was awarded on the stage to pose.
