Lessons Learned, Healing Hearts

So It Begins (Chapter 3)

Forced to sit in the far back row with Gianluca, Piero found it challenging to hear the conversation two rows ahead of him.

As Ignazio and Gianluca engaged in their conversation, Piero, feeling left out, sought clarification from Barbara. Irritated by his persistent questions, she silenced him with a stern look. Receiving side glances from Ignazio and Gianluca, Piero reluctantly sat back in his seat.

Only able to briefly glimpse her face before she walked out of the hotel lobby; now sitting in a confined car, tipping his head just enough to look over Barbara's shoulder, he questioned why a company would send a teenager to drive around clients. Surely, she was older than 18 or 19. Expressive in her facial gestures, each raised eyebrow or sweet smile, though directed at Michele, intrigued him. Enjoying the light musical tones of her voice, hearing her giggle, he mistakenly chuckled. Instantly, a heat came to his cheeks as Barbara, Gianluca, and Ignazio gave him a questioning look. There had been no reason for him to laugh other than she delighted him. Sitting back in his seat, he gave them no explanation and pulled out his phone. Scrolling through his music, this was going to be an incredible 12 days.

"So, I'll be back to pick you all up from the studio at 4 o'clock. Is that correct?" Marlow asked.

"Yes," Michele answered.

Handing him her contact card, she added, "If you need me sooner or anything changes, just text or call that number, and I'll get the message."

"Do you have an extra card?" Barbara asked.

"I do."

"We'll take one, too," Piero interjected, extending his hand over Gianluca's shoulder. Though aware of Ignazio and Gianluca's nudge to one another, he didn't care that they knew he wasn't talking about 'we.'

***

Making it to school in plenty of time, Marlow stopped at the food court and grabbed her usual triple berry smoothie. With 45 minutes before class to do some more research on Il Volo's members, she pulled out her phone. Clicking on a second link titled Il Volo Bios, Marlow's jaw dropped open. Below the group picture were individual photos of each member. Finally, she had identified the fellow who had caught her attention.

Lost in staring at the photo, Marlow jumped, spilling her drink, when her friend dropped several books onto the table.

"Hey, how's it going?" Harper asked as she pulled out a chair. "Ooh, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Hey, it's good," Marlow responded, wiping the table with a napkin.

Harper was a unique character. On days when she was required to be at work, she dressed conservatively due to the strict dress code. However, when allowed to dress however she liked, she would switch things up. A gifted makeup artist, she could effortlessly transform herself into a 1940s glamour girl and be a goth princess with a sparkly tiara the next day.

"There's an open mic night at the HUB this Saturday," she said. "Can you come?"

"Ummm, I'm not sure," Marlow muttered without looking at her friend.

Obviously more engaged in what was on the cell phone than in her, curiosity got the better of Harper. Snatching Marlow's cell, she asked, "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing, give it back."

"Holy crap! Who are they?" Harper exclaimed so loud that people from neighbouring tables turned and snickered.

"Shhh, will you please keep it down!" Marlow scolded, taking her phone back. "They are who I am driving around."

"Wow. There was no way I could concentrate on driving with those three sitting in the car. Who are they?"