Key Genius > Quotes

“When his memory becomes liquid and flows through his brain like a flooded river. He hates it happening, but can’t do anything about it. Maybe it's normal. He’s experiencing another moment of "perfect chaos", as Ian calls it. He hasn’t heard from him since that day and wonders why he had insisted on having his phone number. He”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“Just by wearing a mask I forgot about everything and everyone. How is that possible? I’ve trodden on both Nicolle and Susanna, in one go. Tears trickle down his heavily made up face. He quickly wipes his face with both hands and then looks at them: they’re dirty and sticky. He doesn’t go upstairs to wash. Cupid has fallen and is now chained to an armchair in remorse, waiting for Ian to arrive.”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“Andrea bangs his head on the table and Poto meows. He’s silent, not knowing what to do. "What do you mean, then he has to go away? When is he back? Did he tell you?" "I don’t know," she says desperately. "The problem is he’s already here..." "Huh?" he blurts out, standing up. "Here? Where?" he asks, running his hand through his hair. "Here, at the minimarket, where else? He gave me no choice. I don’t get how he got here." "How does he kn.." A sudden pang in his temple stops him. "Do you have the active location set on the map? On your phone?" Susy lets out a loud groan and doesn’t answer. Andrea”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“Dorian? Is that an important publisher?" "Count Dorian is really famous. How do you not know him?" "I can only think of the Dorian in the painting. You know, Oscar Wilde’s beautiful, cursed one?" he says. "Sorry. And, anyway, why is he important?" he asks, noting her apprehension. "Well, for one thing, he’s a Count." "Pardon..." he mocks, in a French accent. "Why is this Count famous?" "Because he cultivates young talent. He’s launched a lot of young people in different fields: music, painting, sculpture, fashion, theater, movies." She pauses for breath. "And writers, too." "So he’s a type of patron." She nods. "And he’s contacted you about your novels?" She nods again. "And what’s the problem?" "He has an estate in Tuscany, as well as houses in New York and Hong Kong. And he’s asked to meet me." "Are you embarrassed to go on your own? I can take you if you want. But if he’s a talent hunter, you just need to act as natural as possible and you'll be fine. I imagine he’s used to it. He can’t not like you," he says, caressing her face. "He thinks I’m a man..," she whispers. Andrea freezes. "Eh?!" he exclaims, looking at her and suddenly feeling a strange foreboding. "I”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“Now he knows that he has to build the new Andrea. He just has to wait for the wounds heal, new skin grows, and he feels better. He will be fragile, sensitive, but will have new skin. Eating biscuits with a latte, he lies down on the couch and puts a film on at random, but doesn’t watch it. Instead, he thinks about Susy, and how she must never know of his change of skin. She will only see the new one.  ”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“I lost my parents during adolescence. I know what you're going through," he says, as the bartender arrives with the coffees. Andrea freezes. How does he know? They start drinking, in silence. Ian is disarmingly slow while Andrea, leaning back on the counter, finishes his in two quick sips. "And what am I going through Ian?" he challenges him, leaning his elbow next to the small cup and looking at him. Ian takes his last sip and gets off the stool. "You’re broken and experience moments of perfect chaos: one moment you're happy and the next moment you want to cut your veins," he says seriously. "You fluctuate in everyday life, hoping to create your own, new balance with small rituals. You organize your time in such a way that you don’t stand still, because if you stand still, you think. And if you think, you suffer. You're unstable, restless." He pauses. "Am I close?" "Quite." "And you’re looking for something that will make you feel better." He raises an eyebrow. "Or, maybe, fix you." He nods. "Yes." "And you've found it, too." He steps towards the cash till. "But you haven’t made it yours yet." "You’re right," says Andrea, taking his wallet. "You’re my guest," replies Ian, lifting his hand. "Thanks." The”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“She leans her head on him again. "I have a secret." she says. He stays silent, touching her face. "I’d like to confide in you." She sits up. "But you have to swear not to tell anyone." She looks at him, raising an eyebrow, before lowering her head and a curtain of hair covers her face. "I’d die of shame." Andrea takes her strands of hair and moves them back. "I swear. Cross my heart, like when we were little. Okay?" he makes a sign on his chest. She nods and takes two deep breaths. "It's a little long. I don’t know where to start." "Take all the time you need." He sits up and plays with the grass while he waits. "Well…." She lifts her clasped hands to her mouth. "I've written two novels," she begins. "Really?" Andrea gasps. "Great! Have they been published?" She nods. "How are they doing?" "Well," she says, decisively. "I’m very happy." "I’ll look you up and have a read." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I’m under a pseudonym, to be honest." Andrea raises his eyebrows. "Ah, I see. So that you feel more free to express yourself, I guess." Susy shakes her head. That isn’t the reason. "Is it because of the stories? Are they strange?" Susy looks down and puts a finger to her mouth, biting the nail. "A little." "Are they really violent? Do you write Tarantino type stories?" he jokes. "No, no." Andrea senses that they have started a guessing game. One piece of information at a time and then he will get to the answer. "Ah! I’ve got it," he points at her. "Love stories? Or, wait. What are they called....?" He snaps his fingers. "Barbara reads them. Those books with vampires, angels and….." "Paranormal Romance? No, not that either." Andrea scratches his ear. "Thrillers, crime novels, science fiction?" Only biographies and reference books remain. She shakes her head again and Andrea folds his arms in puzzlement. "What books have you written then?" Susy whispers a word, her finger in her mouth, and Andrea doesn’t catch it. He takes away her hand and moves closer to her. "Huh?" "Erotic novels," she says, blushing. Andrea gasps and looks at her, wide-eyed, then bursts out laughing and throws himself onto the ground. He holds his stomach and rolls around. "I don’t believe it..." he says, doubled up with laughter. "I knew I shouldn’t have told you!" she blurts out and starts getting up. Andrea grabs her arm. "Please. Sorry," he says. "It’s just that you don’t seem like a housewife who does S&M in the living room." Susy folds her arms. "No, I don’t write about that kind of fantasy." "What type of fantasy do you write about?" he asks with a mischievous smile. "First love in the classroom? Romance, but with sex?" He waves his eyebrows, amused. "Stupid!" she replies, annoyed. "Alright." He clears his throat. "I won’t make fun of you. I promise. I'm listening." He becomes serious again, biting his lips. Susy”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“The car slows down, interrupting his thoughts. "Here we are," says Ian, sitting up straight. He puts on his hat and takes a deep breath. "Let the show begin." He opens the door and camera flashes dazzle him. Adoring voices call him and a crowd circles him. "Come on, little Key." Maicol turns and smiles. "Excited girls can’t wait to tear you to pieces." He imitates a lion’s roar. Then he gets out and more flashes of light fly into the car. Andrea grasps the door handle, trying to keep his internal disorder under control. His skin sizzles as if on a grill and his heart is bursting through his rib cage. His hand trembles so much that he can’t even lower the simple lever. One door separates him from the new world that he’s about to enter. And he wonders why he's doing it. For the money? Because Susanna is enthusiastic? To glorify himself and his pride? Out of curiosity? He’s afraid of changing and perhaps Ian is right. The only thing is to be yourself, but put up barriers. He had been Andrea, as always, that afternoon in Clusone, but had placed Key in front as a layer to protect his true essence. His true self. Andrea thinks back to the image of his reflection. He focuses, wraps himself in it, and feels that he can control the turmoil. His breathing is regular. Calm now, he lowers the handle. He places a foot on the ground and steps out, as relaxed as if among friends. He’s bombarded by camera flashes and questions that fly at him wildly, but smiles as soon as Ian and Maicol stand by his side. "Good evening everyone. I’m Key," he says confidently. And time stops in a glow of solomonic certainty: now he knows who it was on stage with Nicolle.”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“Inside it looks like a nineteenth century palace, given the attention to detail and the elegance of the furniture: there are two carpets on the floor, more paintings in gilt frames, wooden furniture along the walls, and a large table with a flower arrangement in the center. All lit with spotlights. Andrea feels like he’s in another era and another season; it doesn’t look like a home in the mountains and there's no summer heat. He expects some nobility to appear. Indeed, standing next to the table is Ian. And he’s watching them. Andrea gasps silently. "Here we are," says Carlotta. "We’re very sorry for making you wait, Count." "Don’t worry, Carlotta," he says politely, moving closer. Ian’s wearing a white top with a black satin jacket and pants, also satin, with a stripe down the side. It creates a strange Casual Count effect that both stuns and disturbs Andrea. Always ambiguous, Ian doesn’t seem to want to adapt to anything. Not even a normal style. Was he not sure whether to go for a stroll or to a party? Andrea feels his brain smoking so much that it must be on fire. "These inconveniences can happen." He smiles at her and she blushes to the point of melting. Her knees buckle and she touches her face, embarrassed. Typical! Andrea grunts. "Can you introduce your friend to me?" says Ian. "Of course. He’s the guy.....," she stops. "Nearest to our Maicol." Ian looks at him and pretends not to know him. Andrea does the same. "Exactly," says Carlotta.”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“Andrea sees him and is grateful to have the mask. With it he can leave "Andrea Messi" behind and become the guy in the reflection, displaying a subtle arrogance restrained by common sense. The mask stirs an unusual unease in him again. It erases the past and creates such fascinating, new expectations, that he feels he only has to reach out his hand to make them his. His heart beats and his breath is pronounced as he strives to bring it back to normal. "What”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“You're in trouble now, though," he jokes, nibbling her ear. "Why?" she asks. "I won’t leave you alone." He kisses her chin and then sucks it. "Not ever, not anywhere," he sniggers, amused. "Let’s get dressed and go home, but later..." He strokes her breast and bends down to kiss it. "I'll take you again," he says, looking up at her seriously. "And again..." He closes his eyes and plays with her rough pearls. "Until I take you to where I was." "Really?”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“She presses play and Andrea listens to the song. A guitar starts playing, then another and then drums; it’s an unusual sound; it seems like rock music but is strange, somewhat gothic and punk. It’s a melodic song, though, and his foot taps the beat without him realizing. A man’s voice, full of sadness, sings the first words:   "When routine bites hard And ambitions are low And resentment rides high But emotions won’t grow And we're changing our ways Taking different roads..."   Andrea knows it! He hears the song arrive from his distant past with a suitcase full of memories. He sees himself as a child, sitting in the living room, his little legs dangling from a chair. His father has just received a new CD from abroad and couldn’t wait to receive it so Gina the caretaker has sent it on to him in Clusone. He’s really excited and tells mom all about it. She’s happy too. Barbara has pigtails and is eating a piece of focaccia with olives, sticking her fingers inside to take them out one by one. She’s tiny, five years old or maybe younger. Andrea sees the CD on the table and wonders what is so special about it. There's a very pale guy on the front, with dark hair and a strange fringe. His mouth is right up to the microphone and everything else is black. It’s written in a language that he can’t read, though he knows that it’s English. His parents are so happy that he decides to take it and have a listen. He snatches the disc and CD player and runs off. He runs very fast...   "Then love, love will tear us apart again" sings Ian Curtis, the voice of Joy Division, his parents’ favorite band. It’s a compilation that came out in 2000, containing a special song, "Love will tear us apart again." Andrea runs to a little girl that he loves very much. He has fun all day long with her in the mountains. He runs to his inseparable friend, his dear... "Susy!" he exclaims, eyes open wide. She smiles and nods. He”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“You're the first man to kiss me and then apologize for it," she jokes, taking the hooded cloak. "You're sweet, Andrea. Your girlfriend is lucky," she says, her smile tinged with sadness. She wraps Andrea in that cloak loaded with turmoil and pulls the hood over his head. "Everything will be fine. Remember it’s just a game." She gives him a gentle caress. "Yes, Nicolle." He returns the caress without even realizing. He would really love to see her without that mask. Thank you, Nicolle! Thank you for calling me a man, not a boy. I haven’t felt like one for a long time. Only you have understood that.”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“Then, Andrea kisses her passionately, sinking into her mouth with voracious desire, and the audience goes delirious. Applause breaks out, making the whole square tremble. Andrea gets lost in that stolen kiss, sweet like toffee. He anxiously looks for her tongue and chases her thirstily each time she eludes him. Pursuing her is exciting and her calm resistance makes it even more intoxicating. Nicolle’s breasts are pressed against his chest and her body moves, meeting his slightly trembling legs. Nicolle is pure cocaine! Andrea takes a vivid mental journey of what their bodies would do if they could abandon themselves to pleasure. He sees it, hears it, lives it. He keeps hold of her wrists with just one hand while the other climbs up her back to her neck; he goes on kissing her, feeling worse than a fallen angel. He had only worn the wings for a game, but now sees that with Nicolle they weigh on him tremendously. This is the most disturbing kiss of his life, precisely because it is forbidden. And the more he tells himself that, the more he sinks into her, his desire growing. He’s a sinner. He knows that now. He’s breathless when he lets go of her and pants into her face. She does the same and he just wants another kiss. Nicolle’s mouth, again. The”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“I’ll wake up now..." The world keeps turning. And millions of people continue to live their lives, with faces full of laughter and tears. While Andrea stands still. He feels his face locked in an infamous vise, deforming his mouth like when he laughs, but with his eyes shut tight like when he suffers. Tears fall and dance around him in a silent twirl from which there’s no escape.  ”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“Ian has an intense look. Curious, more than anything. The”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“Rummaging in his pocket, he can’t feel his packet of cigarettes. He snorts, shaking his head. "Would you like one of mine?" says a man’s voice behind him. Andrea turns around and a man with dark hair and a thin face stands before him with a silver cigarette case open. He has elegant sunglasses that cover his eyes like a headband. "You won’t find these in the store." His lips hint at a smile. "Key." "Dorian?" Andrea asks, a lump in his throat. He nods and his chin is tickled by a gray, linen scarf. "You can call me Ian," he says, putting one in his mouth. Andrea takes a cigarette. It’s white, just like Ian’s sweatshirt. "Thank you." He holds out the lighter with the flame already high. Andrea moves closer to light up and, feeling trapped, takes the first drag. "Andrea," Ian calls him by his name. "It’s a pleasure to meet you." He holds out his spotless, thin hand. "The pleasure is all mine, Ian." He shakes it firmly. "Are”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“You don’t know what it means for me to make you up for her and the Count." She opens her hands and mouth, as if to say a prayer. "He... he’s Dorian," she bleats, trembling. "Alright." He comes closer and takes hold of her hands. "Come on, calm down. What can I help you with?" "Thanks." She takes a photo from her bag and shows it to him. "Here. This is the angel on Nicolle’s cover. It’s Maicol, the model. We must try to get as close to him as possible." Andrea looks at it and stiffens. There’s a six foot tall blond lad in the photo, defined with muscles that he didn’t even know existed. He’s naked, apart from a black leather thong, and has chains and leather straps on his arms. A mask covers his face and his wings are bloodied. "Carlotta," Andrea says, really wanting to curse, but trying to stay calm. "Obviously, you're not asking me to go out in that state, right?" "No, no. Don’t worry. There are children. You can keep your jeans on." Meanwhile, she lays out the makeup on the table. Andrea”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“You're almost ready now." Nicolle takes some soft leather bands and closes them around his wrists, leaving the rings dangling. "Just the wings and then we’ve finished." She opens another suitcase and, one after the other, the angel wings appear. They’re made out of real feathers and some parts are splashed with blood. One is shorter than the other; one is broken so they’re asymmetric. "They’re fantastic," he says, hit by the truth. She grabs one and hooks it on. "Thank you, I’ll let the creator know." They’re not as light as they seem and Andrea has to regain his balance when she attaches the other one. Nicolle stands back in front of him to admire him. "How do you feel?" Andrea finds it a little hard to breathe, the collar pulling on him now that he has the wings. He moves, still feeling imprisoned by an indefinable sensation, halfway between pleasure and discomfort. "I have to get used to it." "Be careful, you might find that you like it." Nicolle lets herself go with a refined laugh, hand over her mouth. "You’re not helping me like that. I'm already nervous," he sighs, starting to feel tense. "But, do you like it? Is it like in your novel?" he asks her, worried.”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“Here they are," she exclaims, packet of biscuits in hand. They’re his favorite: chocolate with cream filling. "Nice," he says, arching his chest towards her. "Can I have one?" "I brought them on purpose," she smiles. She opens the packet and offers him one. He shakes his head. "Open it for me," he says, kissing her neck. "Hold the two sides, turn slowly and pull them apart." She does so and hands him the half with the cream on. Andrew grabs her wrist, puts his thumb in her palm and her breathing alters. He brings her hand closer and licks a hole in the cream with just the tip of his firm tongue. He looks at her and swallows the sweet, strong fingertip. She’s startled and her hand begins to shake. Then, he slowly licks all the cream with light movements as he intertwines his fingers in hers. He imagines that he’s licking her, her skin, his precious Susy. Then, he leans forward for a kiss. "Thank you." She’s enveloped in embarrassment, her cheeks painted red. "Do you always eat biscuits like that?" she jokes. He caresses her neck with his lips, licks, kisses and nibbles it slightly. "If my girlfriend’s not wearing anything under her dress, yes." She”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“Ian opens the box and moves the polystyrene strips to uncover a matryoshka. He’s astonished when he sees that it’s his face painted on it. "But...," he says. "Is it me?" He looks at Andrea, puzzled. "You’re very good." The look is from a photo of him at a party, before he knew him personally, that he found on the internet. He’s in a gray suit and has a cane, like a count from the olden days. "That's the Count," he says, and Ian looks at him and swallows. Andrea smiles. His gift holds a deep meaning that only the two of them understand. Ian opens the first doll and inside there is another. He gasps on seeing it. "That’s Dorian," says Andrea. He has painted Ian as he had looked on the night of his first event. When he wore the white Versace suit and Borsalino fedora. His hand trembling, Ian opens the doll to see the next one inside. "That's Ian," Andrea smiles, as does Ian when he sees himself portrayed with the black linen scarf and white sweater that he was wearing when they had met for the first time in Clusone. He has a serious look in the previous dolls while here he is cheerful. Ian shakes the doll a little and hears the wood rattle. He looks at Andrea, doubtful: they both know that their rapport finishes here. Andrea hasn’t discovered his innermost layer and sounderstands his perplexity. Ian seems to have to pluck up courage and then opens again. Inside there is the last, smallest doll, made from a single small piece of wood and known as the "seed". It dances in a large empty space, given that the doll above it is missing. It’s golden and doesn’t have a face. "That’s the soul," says Andrea. "One’s missing. That's why there's that little table with brushes in my room. I hope to do it soon. As soon as I can." Ian takes the little piece of wood and holds it in his fist. "Thank you, Andrea. It’s a wonderful gift," he says, tightening his jaw. "I eagerly await the last." He’s”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh

“Ian is in the courtyard and is holding Poto. He has a light colored sweatshirt, jacket and sand colored, knee-length pants. "Huh?" exclaims Andrea, walking quickly to open the door for him. "Hello," says Ian. "This is Poto, right?" Andrea doesn’t understand two things. Firstly, what is Ian doing there in his courtyard? Secondly, what is Ian doing there in his courtyard holding his cat? "Yes," he replies, puzzled. "But…" Ian rubs his face with Poto as if he were a cotton ball. "He was in the street." Andrea gasps. "What? How?" He reaches out his arms to take him, but Ian recoils, takes a step back and shakes his head. "He's my cat," says Andrea, somewhat childishly. "Before carting him about like that, shouldn’t you at least ask my permission?" he jokes. "I rescued him from the road." Ian gives him an odd look. "Doesn’t that give me some sort of right?" He raises an eyebrow. "Well, I guess so, yes." Andrea wrinkles his nose. "Thank you, Ian," he smiles.”
― Key Genius, Heart of flesh