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Requested by : damianomybeloved

In the beginning, Damiano's journey into the realm of celebrity was a dream come true. The glitz, the glamour, and the adoration of fans showered upon him like confetti. However, as fast as the applause echoed in his ears, problems emerged with the same velocity. Challenges cascaded over him like an unrelenting storm, and what proved most difficult was the realization that not every problem had a solution, and some were entirely beyond his control.At first, Damiano was open about his struggles. He would confide in you, sharing the weight of his newfound fame and the burdens that accompanied it. However, his inherently reserved nature soon took over. He withdrew into a shell, a facade of strength and normalcy he presented to the world, especially to those he loved - including you.

It became a performance, a masterclass in pretending that everything was fine, that the spotlight had not cast shadows on his soul. Yet, beneath the surface, the cracks began to form. The pressure of expectations, the invasive scrutiny, and the relentless pace of the celebrity lifestyle started to erode his once unshakeable foundation.

Damiano's struggle reached a point where he couldn't find solace in openness anymore. Instead, he chose to bury his fears and anxieties deep within, masking them with a smile and a nod. But it was only a matter of time before the facade would crumble, revealing the turmoil within.As the weight on his shoulders intensified, Damiano sought refuge in a small, green plant - weed. It started innocently enough, a desperate attempt to escape the chaos within his mind. The first drag was like a magic elixir, temporarily numbing the pain and transporting him to a world where problems didn't exist. The smoke curled around him like a protective shield, shielding him from the harsh realities of fame.

With each inhale, Damiano felt the tension in his body dissipate. The worries that once raced through his mind slowed to a gentle hum, drowned out by the vibrant kaleidoscope of colors dancing before his eyes. It was a surreal experience, where the beats of the music created a visual symphony in his mind, and he could almost see the sounds pulsating around him. For a while, the weed became Damiano's sanctuary - a fleeting escape from the relentless demands of his celebrity life. It was the only time he felt truly free, unburdened by the expectations and judgments that weighed him down.

However, as the highs grew, so did the depths of the lows. The temporary respite offered by the weed became an insatiable craving, a constant pursuit of a fleeting euphoria. The vibrant colors that once painted his world began to fade, leaving behind a dull and monochromatic reality. As Damiano spiraled deeper into this self-imposed escape, the hole he dug became a chasm too wide for anyone, including you, to bridge. The person he once was, the dreams he once chased, all seemed to slip away with each exhale of smoke. The weed, initially a source of solace, had now become the chain binding him to a distorted version of reality.

And so, the start of the end began - a slow descent into a darkness that was consuming Damiano from within. The problems that once plagued him were momentarily forgotten in the haze, but the solutions remained elusive, lost in the smoke that veiled his perception of the world.

As Damiano's reliance on weed deepened, so did the visible changes in his demeanor. Red eyes became a constant feature, and his once vibrant spirit seemed to be fading away, leaving behind a detached gaze fixed on the ceiling. Concern etched lines on your face, and you couldn't help but voice your worries, confronting him about the growing issue.

However, each attempt to discuss his addiction only served to push him further away. The defensive walls he erected were impenetrable, his belief in the soothing properties of weed blinding him to the negative impact it was having on his life and relationships. It was a bitter pill for you to swallow, realizing that the very thing he claimed was making him "better" was tearing him apart.

The person you fell in love with in high school, the one whose eyes sparkled with dreams and laughter, now seemed like a distant memory. Damiano's retreat into the smoke-filled sanctuary had transformed him into a stranger, a version of himself that you struggled to recognize.The impact rippled through all aspects of his life. His interactions with his best friend Leo became strained, the camaraderie replaced by irritability. The once tight-knit bond with his band, Måneskin, began to fray as he became increasingly difficult to work with. Even his family, who had always been his anchor, felt the tremors of his changing personality.

But perhaps the most heartbreaking was the strain on your relationship. The love that once felt like an unbreakable bond now faced the cracks caused by his growing dependence. He grew impatient and quick to anger, lashing out at you for expressing concern or trying to help. The warmth that used to emanate from him was replaced by a cold indifference.

You found yourself grappling with a dilemma - the person you loved was slipping away, consumed by an addiction that blinded him to the damage it was causing. The more you tried to pull him back, the more he resisted, convinced that the escape provided by weed was the only respite he needed.

It became a painful dance, a delicate balance between your love for the person Damiano once was and the reality of the person he was becoming. Each confrontation was met with defensiveness, each attempt to help was perceived as an attack. The chasm between you grew wider, and you felt the weight of helplessness as the person you cherished sank deeper into the clutches of addiction.

As Damiano's world crumbled, the once vibrant colors that surrounded him faded into a bleak palette. The music that once brought him joy became a distant echo, drowned out by the cacophony of his internal struggles. The boy you fell in love with was lost, and the only thing that seemed to have a hold on him was the very thing driving him away - the alluring haze of smoke that clouded his reality.

The pillow landed with a soft thud, eliciting a groan from Damiano as he stirred from his half-conscious state. His eyes, still heavy with the remnants of the high, squinted in annoyance at the intrusion. "Why did you do that?" His words dripped with aggression, a tone that had become all too common in recent times.

Your patience had worn thin, and the frustration bubbled to the surface as you scowled down at him. "I can't with you anymore. Get your ass up," you declared, your voice firm and unyielding.His response was immediate, a defiance that only fueled your exasperation. "You don't get to order me around," he shot back, his words a challenge.

For a moment, you stood there, staring down at him in disbelief. The audacity of his defiance hung in the air, a stark reminder of the person he had become. Anger flashed in your eyes as you clenched your fists, a mixture of hurt and frustration simmering beneath the surface."You don't get to talk to me like that," you retorted, your tone sharp. The room felt charged with tension, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on both of you.

Without another word, you turned away, intending to retreat to the kitchen. But then, a phrase hung in the air, a blatant display of disrespect that made you freeze in your tracks. "What did you say?" you seethed, turning back to face him.

Damiano, still reclined on the couch, seemed unfazed by your reaction. "Don't make me repeat myself. I don't need your yelling right now," he groaned, holding his head as if the mere act of speaking was causing him physical pain.

The room seemed to pulse with the intensity of the moment. The line had been crossed, and the realization hit you like a wave. The person you were confronting wasn't the Damiano you fell in love with - this was a distorted version, clouded by the haze of addiction.

"I'm not yelling because I enjoy it, Damiano. I'm yelling because you're drowning yourself in this haze, and I can't stand by and watch you destroy everything," you retorted, your words sharp but filled with genuine concern.

He scoffed, pushing himself up to sit, joints forgotten for a moment. "Destroy everything? Dramatic much?""No, Damiano, not dramatic. Realistic," you shot back, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. "You're pushing away your friends, your family, and me. Do you even recognize who you've become?"

He looked at you with a mixture of defiance and resignation, the weight of your words sinking in. The room fell into a heavy silence, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city outside."I just want a break, okay? A break from everything," he muttered, avoiding your gaze."A break? Damiano, this is not a break; it's a free fall. And you're taking everyone who cares about you down with you," you replied, your frustration evolving into a deep sadness.

As you stood there, caught in the crossfire of emotions, you realized that the boy you fell in love with was slipping further away. The haze that clouded his mind was now a tangible barrier between you, and breaking through it seemed like an insurmountable task. The room felt heavy with unspoken words and the lingering scent of weed, a symbol of the growing distance and the struggles that lay ahead.

"You don't understand y/n," he sighed."Then tell me! I'm your girlfriend for god's sake!" you screamed. "Yes! I am aware of that!""Then why don't I feel like I'm a part of your life?!" you were screaming at this point."Because I don't want you to! You don't make me happy anymore, smoking does! Not you! I'm the best version of myself and it's not because of you!" he shouted back."You're just a parasite in my life, maybe all those people were right. You only stay with me for my money," he seethed in disgust.

You watched as your entire heart crumbled into pieces. The words struck like a sledgehammer, each syllable tearing through the fabric of your relationship. The accusations, unfounded and cruel, hung in the air like a toxic cloud, poisoning the love that had once flourished between you.In that moment, the realization hit - the person you loved had become a stranger, and the connection you thought was unbreakable had shattered. The room echoed with the deafening silence of a relationship irreparably damaged, and you were left standing there, surrounded by the ruins of what was once a love story.

"How can you even-" you started, the words catching in your throat. You couldn't bring yourself to finish the sentence because acknowledging it would make the painful reality all too real. Everything that had once existed between you and Damiano seemed to vanish into thin air, leaving behind the hollow echo of what was no more. Despite the torrent of emotions flooding your chest, you forbid yourself to cry in front of him.

"Well, if you're happier that way... I love you too much to hold you back," you said, your voice steady but laced with a bitterness you couldn't hide. Damiano glared back at you, and in that moment, it felt like the universe had conspired to unravel the threads that bound you together."I guess it is just how it was meant to end," he stated, the words cutting through the air like a blade. You clenched your jaw at the mention of it, the finality of the situation settling over you like a heavy shroud.

The next hour unfolded in a blur of frenzied activity - hastily ripping your belongings from any bags you could find, dialing your father to come pick you up. You didn't spare a last glance at the apartment that had been your shared haven for three years. There was no moment of reflection or attempt to find Damiano, to exchange a goodbye that neither of you seemed willing to utter. The scent of smoke lingered in the air, a poignant reminder that he had already returned to his coping mechanism.

Taking a deep breath, bags in hand, you stood at the threshold of the life you once thought would be your happily ever after. Yet, as reality set in, it became clear that this was the end of your story. The dreams, the laughter, the shared moments-all reduced to fragments scattered in the wake of a relationship that had crumbled under the weight of addiction.The door closed behind you with a muffled finality, sealing off the chapter of your life that had intertwined with Damiano's. As your father's car pulled away from the curb, you couldn't bring yourself to look back. The city lights blurred into streaks of color, matching the whirlwind of emotions within.It wasn't a storybook ending, no fairy tale closure with neatly tied bows. Instead, it was a painful farewell to a chapter that had come to an unexpected and heartbreaking conclusion. The road ahead was uncertain, but as the city lights faded into the distance, you clung to the hope that a new chapter awaited-one where healing, growth, and a rediscovery of self could take root.

Six months had passed since the tumultuous end of your relationship with Damiano. The initial days were filled with aching silence, the void of his absence reverberating through every corner of your life. But with the unwavering support of friends and family, you began the slow process of healing.

The Måneskin group remained a constant presence, although the subject of Damiano was delicately tiptoed around initially. The pain of the breakup was a raw wound, and everyone understood that addressing it too soon could open old wounds. Instead, your interactions with the group focused on shared interests, laughter, and the comforting camaraderie that had once defined your relationships.

As the weeks turned into months, the healing process gained momentum. The pain became more manageable, and with the encouragement of your loved ones, you started to re-embrace life. The vibrant colors of joy and laughter gradually seeped back into your world. Friends organized outings, and family gatherings became opportunities for shared laughter, helping to drown out the lingering echoes of heartbreak.

Instagram became a canvas for your journey of rediscovery. With each post, you showcased the newfound strength and resilience that had emerged from the ashes of heartache. Your followers witnessed your evolution-from moments of quiet introspection to vibrant snapshots of a life in the process of rebuilding.

The small business idea that had lingered in the back of your mind for years finally took shape. Fuelled by determination and a desire to create something meaningful, you poured your energy into making it a reality. The entrepreneurial venture not only gave you a sense of purpose but also provided a creative outlet for the emotions that had once threatened to consume you.

In a bold move, you decided to temporarily relocate to the bustling streets of New York City. The change of scenery was a cathartic experience, offering a fresh perspective on life. The city's energy became an infusion of inspiration, propelling you to explore new opportunities and push the boundaries of your comfort zone.

The months in NYC were transformative. You immersed yourself in the vibrant culture, met new people, and embraced the challenges that came with navigating a city known for its fast-paced lifestyle. It was a chapter of self-discovery and growth, a testament to your resilience in the face of adversity.

Eventually, the pull of Italy tugged at your heartstrings, prompting your return to the familiar landscapes that held both cherished memories and painful reminders. Back on home soil, you found comfort in reconnecting with the roots that had anchored you before the storm. The warmth of family, the familiarity of old haunts, and the soothing rhythm of daily life in Italy became essential components of your healing journey.

A week after your return to Rome, the familiar aroma of coffee lured you into your favorite coffee shop, a place filled with memories both bitter and sweet. As you stood in line, contemplating your order, a voice behind you interrupted your thoughts. "Y/n! You're back!" The excitement in Vic's voice was evident as she enveloped you in a warm hug. Her tired yet happy demeanor suggested a busy life, and you couldn't help but reciprocate the genuine smile that crossed your face.

Amidst the comforting ambiance of the coffee shop, you settled down for a conversation with Vic. The steaming cups of coffee served as companions to discussions that danced around the highs and lows of life. The topic inevitably shifted to your business venture, and Vic expressed her congratulations. "I heard your project made a lot of people quit smoking," she remarked, her eyes reflecting admiration.

"Yeah," you responded, a mixture of pride and humility in your tone. "I collaborated with a doctor, and we realized that most of the addiction is tied to the gesture, not just the taste." You explained the concept of the small necklace you had invented-a metal string that mimicked the act of smoking, providing a tangible substitute for the habitual reflex. As you shared the success stories and thank-you letters you received daily, a subtle silence settled between you, a testament to the unspoken history that lingered in the air.

Curiosity bridged the gap, and you inquired about Vic's recent endeavors. "So, what have you been up to?" The question hung in the air, and Vic's gaze flickered for a moment before she began to share. "We continued producing the new album," she revealed, her words laden with a hint of hesitation. Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really? But I thought you stopped a bit when..." You trailed off, choosing not to mention him directly, recognizing the delicate nature of the topic and its impact on the group.

Vic's eyes met yours briefly, and she sighed before continuing. "He got into rehab, you know..." The mention of rehab sent a surge of conflicting emotions through you. For months, you had pleaded with him to seek help, to address the demons that gripped him. It had taken your departure for him to take that step. Anger clenched at your heart, but you held it back, not wanting to let the bitterness taint the present moment.

"Y/n, before you get angry, he did listen to you. He got to it a week after you broke up-" Vic's words hung in the air, but you cut her off with a raised hand. "It doesn't matter. It's not my business anymore." The weight of those words settled over the table, an unspoken agreement to let go of the past and focus on the paths that lay ahead.

Vic's words lingered in the air, a mix of relief and frustration. The news of Damiano entering rehab, albeit belatedly, stirred conflicting emotions within you. A part of you felt a sense of vindication, a confirmation that your concerns had not fallen on deaf ears. Yet, another part grappled with the resentment that it took your departure to push him toward seeking help.

Suppressing the surge of anger, you took a deep breath, mustering a faint smile. "I'm glad he took that step. It's a positive move for his well-being."

Vic nodded in understanding, sensing the complex emotions beneath the surface. The coffee shop, once a haven for shared moments with Damiano, now bore the weight of unspoken truths and the residue of a love that had splintered. "He's been working hard on himself, trying to overcome everything. The rest of us have been supportive, and Leo has been a great friend through it all."

"Y/n, I know it's not easy," Vic spoke softly, her gaze filled with understanding. "He's trying to make amends, not just with the group, but with himself."

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