✼ ʾ 𝑎𝑐𝑡. 𝒊 ,
full name: alessandro lombardi. alias(es): aless. birth date: october 27th birth place: milan, italy. age: twenty three years old. pronoun(s): he , him. gender: cis male. orientation: bisexual. occupation: model, actor & musician. languages spoken: english & italian .
✼ ʾ 𝑎𝑐𝑡. 𝒊𝒊 , tw: death , terminal illness .
you come into the world , silent and slippy . your father is a globe away but your mother waits with baited breath for them to give you yours ; your first cry is her favourite melody for her entire life . in that moment , a promise is forged between mother and son - you will never be alone .
each year passes with calendar marked dates and birthday cards from the american man . your mother makes you cupcakes every birthday , asks you what your wishes are and holds you in her lap when she sings her sweet songs . you lean your head against her chest and your wish is silent but never changes … you want to stay like this forever . loved . safe . content .
your mothers parents call you fatherless in the english language , slanted american accents and much laughter over a punnet of grapes . you laugh too , you think yourself better without the birthday cards and cheques ; tell your mother that you will never need money because you are to be a self made man . your grandparents laugh but love you anyway , no matter how pig headed you can be .
it all starts with a cough but even the smallest cough cannot be concealed , lungs full of darkness discovered on a scan . your mother becomes sicker by the day but you know she will never be alone … it’s hard to fit in the catalogue jobs , commercial modelling without her to chaperone but at only thirteen , you still succeed . your grandparents become too frail to help out , you as a son , a carer , a provider . your mother hires nurses and nannies but you refuse to give up your responsibility . you have to be the best son else you have failed .
the night she takes her final breath , you are by her side . the nurses have to pull you off of her for all the crying you are doing , denial stronger than any love . you promise you will be the best son if she will just open her eyes but deep down , you know that isn’t real .
there is nobody to take custody , your grandparents unable so late in their life with so much left of yours … international enquiries and the american man steps forward . you don’t need any white knight , any father ... so late but he comes to collect and like a belonging , you are in transit to the united states and to a family you have never known . you loathe him for it .
settled in the united states then you have a new step mother , new step siblings … perfect in every way … you wonder what made them worth fathering and you quite the opposite . it doesn't matter how present he is now , how he tries to fulfil your very whim … you will never forgive him enough to admit to that growing hole in your soul where the support of a parent is meant to be . the lullabies are sung under your breath , recordings played under covers and resentment growing and taking root in every corner of your body as you reach full maturation .
the world of nepotism , your fathers money about as close to blue blooded as you will ever be ⎯ green blooded , green eyed … like you . you have a serious case of the green eyed monster , all the work you pour into being the best at everything , a war waged against nobody but yourself because the bitterness took root long ago . growing into an adult with a temperament for demands that can never be met , a need and desire for attention that can never be fulfilled . you need to be gratified . you need to be a shining star … a great showman . you have to be somebody . you are somebody , aren't you ?
✼ ʾ 𝑎𝑐𝑡. 𝒊𝒊𝒊 ,
tristan carvalho. cousin . bitterness and envy rooted in nothing other than having no other space for your resentments .
alexandra fairchild. subplot / enemies , you are trying to get back in her favour , you need her .
