Page 48 of Marcello

Once I made my decision, all the street noise went quiet.

The world slowed down…

And it was like I was watching a movie as I walked over to the thug.

A crime thriller starring Marcello Trovato where he tries to infiltrate the Camorra.

I stood next to the guy in the archway and peered out at the street, not saying anything.

He frowned at me in surprise like, What the hell?

I looked over at him calmly. “Hey.”

“What the fuck do you want?” he snarled in Neapolitan.

I replied in Neapolitan, “I was wondering if you have anything to sell. You know… something good.”

He stared at me like I had an extra head growing out of my neck –

Then hissed, “Stay the fuck away from me!” before storming off across the street.

I was stunned.

SHIT!

What the fuck just happened?!

Why’d he run away?!

FUCK!

I’d just blown my one and only chance to buy drugs from this guy!

What the fuck did I do WRONG?

When I went back to work, I was in a dark funk for the rest of the day. I played the encounter in my head over and over again, wondering what I should have done differently.

Because of that, I was totally distracted.

When I recited my five-minute parts on the next tour, I messed up several of the sections, and my delivery was kind of listless. Pasquale had to step in and take over for me twice.

After the tour was over, he said, “Maybe you need a little more practice before you do the whole thing.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I just choked.”

He slapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

I wasn’t.

Not about the tour, anyway.

About the botched drug buy, though?

I was plenty hard on myself about that.

I thought about calling Fausto and asking what I should do…

Then decided, No.