Chapter Text
Thomas still can't quite wrap his head round what a whirlwind the past few months have been, winning Eurovision still feels like a fever dream and Thomas has to pinch himself sometimes to believe that this is actually his life now. He's a rockstar in a popular band with his best friends, this has been his dream ever since he first picked up a guitar. This should be the happiest he's ever felt.
But it's not.
He can't sleep.
He can barely close his eyes without being assaulted with the memory from just a week ago. He still cant believe he was so stupid to think he was untouchable when he decided to walk back from the bar though the back streets of Rome. The unsettling feeling of being followed, the two large men who cornered him in some dark alley, who stole his wallet and his phone and left him bruised and bleeding on the ground. He had to pick himself up and get himself home and now he can't sleep.
And he's ashamed. He's never been the best at standing up for himself and he can't help but think that if it was one of the others in his situation they would either have avoided being mugged all together or just laughed it off. But he’s just him, just Thomas, baby of the group who can't even take being mugged without breaking apart. Its fucking pathetic.
It carries on like this the rest of the week. The never ending shame spiral of self-hate, no sleep and ignoring his friends. He gets headaches, random bouts of dizziness and he's lost his appetite for everything that isn't coffee and cigarettes. He cant even go outside right now because the sun hurts his eyes and he lives in fucking Rome. He can't go on much longer like this, he knows his friends would help him if he just called out to them, he knows that the way this is going it's going to end badly. But he's so tired, tired of everything, he can't quite bring himself to care.
It's during band practice that it happens.
He's been feeling off all day and He doesn't know if it's the lack of sleep, the heat or the stress of trying to hold himself together. He didn't even really want to come today, the thought of going out into the sun makes his head throb but he knew that he couldn't ignore the guys forever. He just has to man up and get through this and afterwards he can go home and drink himself to sleep in the dark.
He can't concentrate on what the others are saying, can barely remember the chords he's supposed to be playing. Fuck, his thoughts are so jumbled. He feels weirdly disconnected from his body, kinda hot and clammy at the same time. He's so out of it he doesn't notice that he's stopped playing, doesn't see the worried looks he's getting, doesn't see Damiano coming looking his way, raised eyebrows asking what's wrong, he just feels his body getting heavier and his vision fading. He doesn't know that he's fainted dead on the floor; he just welcomes the cool darkness.