Italian Summer

Chapter Two

I STILL REMEMBERED MY FIRST concert. For my 13th birthday, my mom had surprised me with tickets to see my idol at the time- Taylor Swift. It was for the Speak Now tour, and at the time, getting those tickets had been the best thing that ever happened to me. For over 2 months, I waited, getting more and more excited as the concert approached. On the 22nd of April, my Mom came to pick me up from school right after lunch period, and as we drove back to the house, I was buzzing with excitement.
      When we got home, I ran upstairs to my bedroom and blasted my favorite Taylor Swift songs, knowing that the next time I heard them, it'd be live. I danced around my room, singing into my purple One Direction hairbrush, and when my Mom finally told me it was time to head to the concert, I screamed with excitement. That night was amazing, and even though I had long since stopped caring about the artist herself, I couldn't deny the fact that that concert had greatly shaped me into who I was today.
     Though it was 8 years ago, I still remembered every detail of that day- what I wore, how the venue smelled, what color the lights were for my favorite song. And as I stood dancing along to Il Volo's upbeat songs and smooth harmonies, I knew that this night would be no different.
      3 songs in, the music finally halted, and the member with the glasses stepped out onto the short catwalk, spreading his arms to his sides as the crowd screamed.
     "Buonasera, Verona!" he yelled into his microphone. "Come stanno tutti stasera?"
     The crowd screamed loudly, but the man shook his head side-to-side with disappointment.
     "Ho ditto, 'come stanno tutti stasera?'"
     The crowd screamed even louder, and the man gave a satisfied nod. "Siamo così onorati di essere di nuovo qui all'Arena di Verona, ma non saremmo qui senza di voi ragazzi.  Grazie mille per essere uscito stasera- si stanno divertendo tutti?"
      The crowd screamed once again, and the shortest of the three switched places with the man on the catwalk. "He said it, but for those who don't speak Italiano, I'll say it again," he said, surprising me. I had assumed they didn't speak English, but apparently I was wrong.
      "We truly are so grateful for everyone's support- we would have never made it this far if it wasn't for our fans," he continued. "Most of you probably already know who we are, but for the people that got drug here by their friends and have no idea, we'll introduce ourselves. To my right, we have the handsome and talented man with the cute dimples, Ignazio Boschetto!"
      The tall guy with the mustache stepped forward and bowed, waving to the crowd and blowing kisses. "Ciao, Verona! Siete tutti belli!"
He stepped back into his spot, and the one with glasses chuckled as the crowd screamed. The girl in front of us was going crazy, and I assumed that the one who had just been introduced was her favorite.
The guy on the catwalk smiled, and turned to the one with glasses. "And to my right, we have the the equally talented and equally handsome man who also has cute dimples, Piero Barone!"
As soon as the name was said, I froze. Standing before me was Francesco's brother, the one whose name I had always messed up. The one whom I had assumed was some sort of loser. The one I thought was the opening band. Never, in the entire two weeks I had known about him, had I considered the possibility that he was a freaking celebrity. My mouth was agape as I turned to my sister, and both she and her boyfriend were laughing.
"Out of all the details you could have skipped over, how the heck did you forget to mention that he's famous?!" I yelled over the crowd. My sister made a reply, but the third member had just been introduced, and I couldn't even begin to hear Isabella over the screaming fans.
I was stunned, really. Here I had been hanging out with a celebrity's brother without even knowing about it. Heck, if Isabella ended up marrying Francesco, Piero would technically be related.
     The concert passed quickly- too quickly. Song after song was sung, and as the bright lights and loud music overwhelmed my senses, I soon forgot about my problems. The adrenaline was almost addictive, and when the last song was sung and the three boys disappeared from the stage, I found myself wishing I could relive the concert again. And again. And maybe even for a 4th, 5th, or even 6th time.
      When several minutes had passed and people came to the realization that there wouldn't be another encore, they started to file out of theirs rows and through the aisles, most headed to their cars. I imagined that most of the conversation on everyone's drive home tonight would be about the concert, and I imagined that my groups ride back to Rome would be no exception. I felt as if I was bursting at the seams with excitement, and with my ears ringing, I almost felt a sense of euphoria.
      "Soooo..." Francesco started, rising from his seat. In order to avoid the packed aisles, we had decided to hold back and wait for the crowd to slim before departing from our row. People were moving quickly, though, and already, after just a minute or two, the aisles were nearly cleared.
      "Soooo..." I copied, waiting for him to say what he was going to say.
      "Did you like it?" he asked, though the smile on his face indicated that he already knew how I'd reply.
      "It was... amazing," I replied, but really, it was the understatement of the century. I felt like jumping up and down; like shouting it to the world.
      Francesco chuckled. "We figured you'd like it- that's why we brought you," he explained.
      I nodded. "Ah, so maybe you know me better than I thought you did," I commented.
      Isabella stood up, joining Francesco and I. "Did you call Piero?" she asked, leaning over and kissing her boyfriend on the cheek.
      "Yeah," Francesco replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket, "but he didn't give me a definite answer. We might have to meet up tomorrow..."
      "Meet up?" I questioned, and immediately, Isabella and Francesco turned to me in perfect sync and grinned at me.
      "Don't you want to meet them?" Francesco asked, and with those 5 words, my heart began to pound.
      "No..." I said with disbelief.
      "How about breakfast? We can have them over to your apartment..." Francesco said to my sister.
      I stood there, my mouth agape. While I had known that Piero and Francesco were brothers, I hadn't considered the fact that they were actually close, nor had I thought about Francesco having close connections with the other two boys (who's names I still didn't know.) While I had no romantic admiration for any of the members of Il Volo, the thought of having breakfast with them made the butterflies in my stomach rouse, and suddenly, my mind began to race. I was going to meet Il Volo.

Hello everyone! Thanks so much for reading this chapter. The fact that you read Chapter 2 of "Italian Summer" almost means more than you reading the first, because it means you stuck around after reading the first cringy chapter of this book. I know it's off to a slow start, but I promise you that things will start to become exciting in Chapter 3. Please comment and vote!