1. Pure Obsession (Finn) - Chapter Five


    Date: 10/9/2014, Categories: Reluctance, Author: SITTING, Rating: 20, Source: LushStories

    I said it, I was thinking again of how much I had left over from selling my Ferrari and where else I could get quick cash. “Finn, I’m serious. We could do this. Your food is like the best.” “I don’t know.” I set the cake bowl down and cracked in an egg. “Where would it be, anyway?” “We’d find a place. Rent some cheap building.” “Huh. What would we call it? Alessandra’s?” I tipped flour into the bowl with a soft thump. “No!” she laughed. “It’s not like I’d be the one doing anything. It’d be yours. We’d call it Finn’s. Short and simple.” “Short and simple? I’m one millimetre below six foot,” I laughed. “And nobody has ever accused me of being simple.” “You know what I mean!” she said, amused. “I wish we could. I wish it would be like a proper business and we’d make real money. We could give leftover food to homeless shelters. We could have days when all food was free.” “I don’t think that’s good business sense.” I smirked. “Yeah, but, we’d make enough anyhow. And what’s the point in having so much for ourselves? It’s nice to give back.” “It’s just a dream though, isn’t it?” I said wistfully. “What you’re saying, it sounds beautiful. But how could we make it come true? We don’t have the money. We don’t know the first thing about running a business.” “How hard could it be?” she asked. “What’s the worst that could happen? That we lose everything? So what?” “We don’t have anything to lose,” I said. “If we could start it, we would. But we can’t.” “We’ll find a way,” she said, and ...
    there was quiet determination in her voice. “You deserve a bit of luck.” *** The next day we went to a small, intimate bar where her older brother’s band was on the line-up. Maurizio O’Neal was bordering on thirty and was a teacher by trade but also a leather-jacket wearing musician, the frontman of a band named Casino Thrills . Their own songs were average, but the covers they did were hauntingly fragile. They played all these old, familiar tracks, but they were stripped back to the bare vocals, accompanied by minimal guitar and drum backing. Making the lyrics stand out so much almost gave a whole new sarcastic meaning to the songs they played, a raw, emotional, desperate feel that had everyone in the bar shocked into silence. It was beautiful and awful at the same time. You thought you knew a song until you heard it played that way. A feel-good, inspirational song was suddenly sorrowful and yet, I couldn’t help loving it. It was touching and you could tell that they played to make people stop and think, rather than to be propelled into instant stardom. We sat there for hours, sipping beers and lemonade and listening to eighties classics, Michael Jackson covers and random songs like Bittersweet Symphony and The Man Who Can’t Be Moved, which funnily enough seemed even more depressing and obsessive on that hot summer night. It felt perfect, completely tranquil and carefree, just music and emotion and deafening applause with Alessandra half-asleep on my shoulder, telling me she’d ...
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