Underneath the Moon
(Piero Barone Fanfiction)
Chapter 1
*Author's note: Hello everyone! I'm back again with my third fanfiction, another story about Il Volo, the operatic-pop singing trio from Italy. This one focuses on Piero, the oldest one of the group. (the one with glasses, for those of you vaguely familiar with Il Volo.) As I did in my other Il Volo fanfiction (Gianluca Ginoble and I), I encourage you to look up the songs mentioned in the story, especially "La Luna Hizo Esto," which plays a large role in it. I had a great time spending my summer writing this story, and I hope that you enjoy it as much as I have. Feel free to email me at annawritesfanfiction at gmaildotcom. (The site doesn't let you write the address normally.) Enjoy…
The last notes of my humble song hung in the air, but the little child in my arms, lost in dreamland, took no notice. I smiled gently down at her and continued to rock her back and forth in the wooden rocking chair in front of the hospital window. The night was warm, but the hospital was cool and the room quiet. The moon gently shone its light down on us, and the stars winked at us from a serene night sky as the little girl sighed softly in her sleep. Her head rested against my chest, her thinning blonde hair falling over my arms as I rubbed her back.
The door to the room quietly opened, casting light across the floor as her mother entered. She smiled brightly when she spotted her little daughter in my arms.
"Oh, you got her to sleep!"
I nodded, lifting my feet to let the rocker begin to slow.
"I thought rocking would calm her down."
"Julia, you are a miracle worker!"
I smiled softly in gratitude and curled my hand under the child's legs, carefully lifting her as I got up from the rocker. She stayed asleep, and I gently laid her down on the hospital bed. I quickly checked her I.V. and heart rate before I left, then quietly kissed her cheek and said good-night to her mother.
I opened the door and slipped out of her room, and apparently entered a hallway of chaos as three other nursing interns stampeded down the hallway toward me.
"There she is!" one cried, and I quickly shut the door behind me before they could disturb the little one within.
In a moment they were upon me, pulling me with them in a flurry of chattering and confusion.
My acquaintance Lauren shushed them, reaching out to grasp the sleeve of my purple scrubs.
"Julia, we know that technically you're off now, but since you're still here, do you think you can come and help us with a patient?"
"Sure, I can try. What's going on?"
"There's a little girl who needs stitches, but she doesn't want them and she's freaking out! Freaking out I tell you!"
"Calm down, Lauren. You want me to help? Stitches are simple; where's Nurse Sherry?"
"The kid kicked her in the mouth! The stitches aren't the problem, it's the kid! Julia, you're easily the best out of all of us at handling kids! You'll be able to calm her down!"
"I'll do my best, then," I offered, and they filled me in on the situation as they took me to the room in the children's hospital. The girl was from Sicily, visiting her older cousin in Las Angeles. She had fallen and cut her shoulder while she was playing, she was scared of the stitches, and not even her beloved cousin could calm her.
When we reached the room, I observed a shrieking five-year-old huddled in the corner and a cluster of nurses and interns swarming throughout the small space.
A tall Sicilian boy about my age crouched beside her, trying to reason with her, but she refused to pay attention to him.
She was obviously scared of all the noise and confusion, and I loudly clapped my hands together.
Everyone turned to look at me, and the clamor died down. Even the little girl quieted and looked at me in curiosity.
"Alright, there are way too many people in this room, so EVERYBODY OUT! That is… please?"
The nurses glanced at each other, and I blushed upon realizing that I had delivered orders to people more highly trained than I. Still, everyone obediently filed out of the room, nodding at me.
I reached out and touched one of the nurses.
"Nurse, could you stay and observe my work…?"
"I don't think that's necessary. You can handle this, Julia."
She gave me an approving nod and left the room, and I turned and entered it.
The boy crouching beside the child stood up and looked at me with deep brown concerned eyes.
"Should I leave?" he asked in a handsome Italian accent, opening his hands questioningly.
"Could you? Only for a moment."
He pushed up his red framed glasses and nodded, then moved past me and out the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. I turned and watched him go. He was very handsome, with thick dark hair, rich brown eyes, and a lean figure. He also looked strangely familiar…I presently pushed him out of my mind and turned to the girl, focusing on her instead.
She also had dark hair and eyes, with beautiful olive Sicilian skin. Her shoulder was wrapped in blood-soaked, amateurly-tied bandages, and her eyes were red from crying. She crossed her arms defiantly at me.
There was a pained look in her eyes, but she gritted her teeth and said, "I'll kick you if you touch me!"
I was quiet for a moment, determining what to say. I felt the nurses and interns watching me intently from the window in the door.
I kept a straight face and asked calmly, "Why? Are you afraid of me?"
She looked surprised, and then quickly shook her head.
"You're not? Then you won't mid if I sit with you?"
She stared quietly at me, and I bent to pick up her doll from the floor. I moved forward and sat next to her, holding it out for her to take it. She hesitated, then snatched it from my hand and held it tightly.
She glared at me, so I looked away and sat quietly. For several minutes, we sat silently side-by-side against the wall. The cloth over her shoulder was darkening with blood, and I wanted to tend to it, but I forced myself to stay still. Her breathing was rapid, but as the minutes passed it slowed and she seemed to relax.
She slowly uncrossed her arms, but when the worried Sicilian boy moved to the window to look at her, she crossed them again.
"Are you mad at him?" I asked softly, as if we were sharing a secret.
She nodded and looked up at me.
"He's being mean right now."
"How so?"
"He wants me to get stitches. I'm not getting stitches, even if it does get infected like the nurses said!"
"Oh, goodness, you don't want that!" I said, and she gritted her teeth defiantly.
I moved to sit in front of her so she would watch me instead of her cousin.
"I had to get stitches once."
She remained quiet, but when I didn't continue, she asked, "What happened?"
I gave her a dramatic reenactment of the story of the day I fell off my bike, hurt my chin, and had to get stitches as a child.
She listened intently, and then she filled me in on her story. She was playing in her cousin's garage, and she fell on a nail sticking out from the wall.
"My parents weren't there, and there weren't any cars at the house, so he wrapped up my shoulder and carried me all the way to the hospital!"
"He did!? Wow, see, he's not mean! He only cares about you. He wants to protect you and make sure you're okay."
She paused, and then nodded slightly.
"I guess so. He looks kinda scared, doesn't he? But I don't like how he asked me to get stitches! I don't want them."
"Oh."
She was quiet, then gingerly touched the makeshift bandage over her shoulder.
"What did he tell you about stitches?" I asked.
"He said I need them to get better. He said he knows my arm hurts, but I need to be brave."
I opened my mouth to speak, but held my tongue when I noticed the new pensive expression on her face. I sat quietly with her as she thought.
"Do they hurt? Stitches?"
"Not too much. It's only thread. Here, I'll show you."
I got up and rummaged around in the counter, producing a closed box of tools. I pulled on some gloves, and then took out the needle and thread.
I returned to sitting cross-legged in front of her, and I held out the needle and thread to her. She reached out and timidly touched them, then reached for her arm. Her lip trembled.
"It really hurts."
"The stitches will help it get better."
"And them it won't hurt anymore?"
"No, it won't hurt when it's better. Look, take off the bandages and I'll show you how I give someone stitches. I won't touch you, though."
She cautiously removed the covering over her shoulder and showed me the wound. She watched my face closely, but I showed no signs of being taken aback at the deep gash.
I threaded the needle while she watched.
"See, I'll make it go in through here, and here, and here…and it'll come out there, and I'll tie it. It's just like sewing."
"My mama sews."
"My mom doesn't know how to sew, so every time she rips her clothes, I have to fix it for her!"
She giggled.
"That's funny!"
Her smile fell, and she reached out and touched the thread, then took her doll and hugged it tightly. She looked up at me.
"What's your name?"
"I'm Julia."
"I'm Abrielle."
She was quiet, and I crouched quietly next to her, holding the needle and thread. Her cousin appeared again at the window, and he looked hopeful when he spotted my position. I looked over at him and smiled encouragingly before turning back to Abrielle.
She looked fearfully up at me.
"Are you good at sewing?"
"Yes."
She looked at her cousin's face in the window and then got a determined look in her eyes. She held out her arm to me.
"Do it."
I immediately began the stitching process, and as I worked she stared defiantly at her cousin at the window.
When I finished, I sighed and sat back on my heels.
"All done!"
A grin spread across her face, and she looked down at the stitches.
"Hey!" she observed merrily, "It looks like I'm a zombie!"
I laughed, and she laughed too, and then gingerly touched the thread woven through her skin. She turned her face timidly to the window.
"Julia? Can he come in? I want to show him I was brave."
I turned to the window and motioned for him to come in.
He immediately opened the door and rushed in to crouch beside Abrielle. I stood and stepped back to pick up the tools, quietly observing him.
He was very tall, with thick dark hair that was shorter on the sides and longer on top. He had handsome dark eyes and long lashes with think eyebrows. He wore a thin white T-shirt and jeans, and he held out his steady hands to Abrielle, lifting her gently onto his knee.
He looked concernedly at her and spoke in his handsome Italian accent, "My little one, are you okay?"
I smiled and turned from them to pick up the needle and thread.
"Yes, Piero, I'm fine."
My head snapped up.
Piero!?
I turned swiftly to watch them.
She held out her arm.
"Look, Piero, I got stitches."
He laughed at her exuberant face, and his smile was wonderfully bright and handsome. I smiled in sudden recognition of him.
Piero Barone.
Abrielle reached out to him, and he cuddled her carefully to his chest, kissing her cheek tenderly as he did so.
I watched him in awe, but before he could look up at me, Lauren pulled me from the room into the group that had been waiting outside the door.
"You were amazing, Julia!" she cried.
"See, we knew you could handle it!" another intern said. "You always know just what to do! The little munchkins adore you!"
"I just do my best," I said modestly.
They congratulated me and asked me what I did to persuade her to let me give her the stitches. They complimented me profusely on my child wrangling skills until I embarrassedly excused myself to get my things from the hospital lounge. It was almost nine at night, and I had classes the next day. I get off of work at five, but I usually lose track of time when I'm with the children. I turned to look curiously back at Piero as I walked, but the other interns had gathered eagerly around him. I accepted that I wouldn't get to speak with him and continued on my way to the lounge.
I collected my college textbooks and my bag from my locker and left the lounge to walk back the way I had come. I paused in surprise when I saw Piero jogging toward me through the wide hallway, smiling brightly at me.
"Hey!" he said, coming to a stop in front of me, "I wanted to thank you for helping Abrielle get those stitches. I know she's a very… stubborn child. You were great with her, um…Julia Clement…"
He read my name off my name tag and then smiled wonderfully at me.
I smiled back, grateful for his kind words, and shifted my books to my hip. I reached out with my free hand to greet him with a hug. He felt hot, probably from carrying Abrielle to the hospital in the May heat, and his T-shirt was soft. He wrapped his arms around me in a firm hug.
"You're welcome, Piero Barone."
He drew back suddenly, looking pleasantly surprised.
"You know me!?"
I nodded.
"You're the operatic pop singer I've heard about! You're part of Il Volo with those other two boys, Gianluca and Ignazio, right? I thought you looked familiar when I saw you, and then I heard Abrielle say Piero, and I realized that it was you!"
"Wow! That's…wonderful!" He grinned warmly at me. "Well, it's great to meet you, Julia. May I carry your books?"
I smiled in surprise and nodded, and he took them from me and cradled them in his arm. We began to walk down the long hallway together, and he asked me how I had convinced Abrielle to submit to getting stitches.
I recounted the story for him, and he listened intently, smiling down at me.
When I finished, he asked me how long I'd been a nurse.
"Actually, I'm not a nurse yet. I'm in training, and I come to work after college each day."
"You're kidding! You're really not a nurse yet?"
I shook my head and smiled at him.
"I'm twenty years old, and I'm about to finish my third year of college. I'm going to work here as a full time nurse when I finish my training, but they've already given me so many special privileges!"
"Well, you are very good at what you do! You were amazing with my little Abrielle!"
"Well, thank you. I love working here. The children are all very special to me."
"I'm twenty also," he said when our conversation quieted. "But I'm not in college. I just sing."
I giggled, and he grinned at me, his eyes friendly and bright.
We reached Abrielle's room, where a nurse was approvingly looking over her stitches. She turned to me and gave me a thumbs-up.
"Excellent work, Julia! Your patient is free to go!"
She helped Abrielle climb down from the counter, and she immediately skipped over to Piero, wedging herself in between us and taking his hand.
"Piero, how are we going to get home?"
"Well, um…"
He nervously fingered his glasses, and I giggled.
"Oh, that's right! She told me that you carried her here!"
He nodded at me.
"Her parents took their car, and I let her older sister borrow mine for the evening."
"Well…I can drive you home if you would like. Your house can't be too far away if you walked here."
"Oh, please say yes, Piero!" Abrielle pleaded. "I don't want to walk!"
He laughed.
"Hush, princess! You didn't even walk the first time; I carried you!"
I laughed, and she glared at him as he smiled at me.
"Julia, that would be wonderful, many thanks to you!"
So I waved good-bye to the interns, who nudged each other and giggled as I left the hospital with the handsome Italian singer and his defiant little cousin.
I slid into the driver's seat and Piero sat in the passenger seat, lifting his foot to rest on his knee and holding my books in his lap.
Abrielle climbed into the backseat and buckled her seatbelt at Piero's command, then leaned her forehead against the window to look out at Los Angeles. Piero guided me to his house as we talked.
"So, Piero, I've told you about my career; now will you tell me about yours?"
"Well…I sing."
I giggled, and he smiled over at me as he launched into a passionate explanation of his career that spanned over the drive to his house.
"Music is everything to me; it's my life! I sing all the time, and I play some instruments too. I'm doing what I love, and it's all I could ever ask for!"
He described recording sessions and concerts to me as I listened intently, curious to have a peek into his strange lifestyle.
We quickly reached his home, which turned out to be two miles away from the hospital.
"Two miles, Piero!? Gosh, that's quite a long way to carry a five-year-old!"
He shrugged.
"I just…had to get her there. I was hoping to find a taxi or something, but no luck."
I smiled softly at his dedication to the little girl, and he asked me if I would like to come in for a moment. The outside of the house was beautiful, and I agreed, curious to see the inside.
We climbed out of the car, and when Abrielle didn't we realized she had fallen asleep.
Piero opened the car door and gently reached down to lift her from the seat. He held her close to his chest and shut the door with his foot.
"Funny," he said, shaking his head at me, "I carry her two miles and she's the one who's tired."
I laughed and then walked beside him up to the house.
The image before me of Piero holding her was precious, and the way he smiled down at her made me feel warm inside.
I quietly walked beside him, watching him shift Abrielle to get out his keys.
When we entered the house, he shut the door and went to put the little girl to bed, asking me to sit and wait for him.
But I didn't sit. Instead, I looked around me at the beautiful kitchen and living room, and I went to the back door to gaze over a lovely swimming pool just outside the door. I looked over his bookshelf containing many Italian and Spanish titles, and looked over his pictures of his family and the other boys of Il Volo.
I crossed to the other side of the living room to the handsome black piano, looking over the papers covered in his handwriting spilling over the keys and lid.
"Do you play?" asked Piero, coming down the steps behind me.
I jumped, and then smiled shyly as he approached.
"Oh, no, I don't play anything," I said.
He grinned at me and came to the piano, sitting down and raising his fingers to the keys.
He began to play "You Raise Me Up," and I quietly sat beside him on the bench.
He smiled at me as he played.
"What do you think?"
"It's beautiful. You're very good."
He released the keys and playfully popped his collar, watching for my reaction. I laughed, and he went back to playing, but shifted the song to "Moves Like Jagger," by Maroon 5.
"How about this one?"
In response, I snapped my fingers and playfully bobbed my head and moved my shoulders to the fast music.
He laughed, and stopped playing when I stopped dancing.
He stood from the piano and gestured theatrically around him.
"So this is my place."
"You live here alone?"
"I do. Gianluca and Ignazio come over often, though... And my family visits sometimes, but this is the first time Abrielle's family has come to visit. They're leaving soon, though, and I'll have the whole house back to myself."
"Then what will you do with the house back?"
"Mope around and miss them."
I laughed.
"Awww, Piero!"
He grinned at me and led me to the couch, where he flopped down and put his feet up on the coffee table, and I sat next to him. He smiled at me, his handsome eyes shining.
"So, Julia, tell me about working at the children's hospital. What's it like?"
I pushed my long brown wavy hair over my shoulder, then crossed one leg over the other and folded my hands on top of them.
"Hmm…where do I begin?"
He sat up and grinned, then began to sing, "Where do I begin…to tell the story of how great a love can be…"
I fell silent, listening in astonishment at his powerful voice. I gazed at him as he sang, watching him in delighted surprise. He surveyed my expression and stopped.
"Sorry, that's what I think of whenever anyone says that."
"Well don't stop there! Go on!" I encouraged eagerly.
"The sweet love story that is older than the sea, the simple truth about the love she brings to me…"
His voice was strong and beautiful, and I listened in wonder of it.
He stopped and grinned.
"What do you think?"
"I think you are a wonderful singer!"
He took a playful bow, and I giggled.
"So," he said, sitting back and crossing his feet on the coffee table again. "The children's hospital?"
I started to fill him in on my experiences at the hospital and my interactions with the children.
He had a pleasant face, and his faint smile as he listened to me made me feel very comfortable, considering I met him only an hour earlier.
He made little comments here and there that made me laugh, and I scooted closer to him and leaned against the back of the couch while he recounted stories of concerts and crazy fans.
His stories were hysterical, and he kept me laughing throughout their entirety.
He couldn't resist bursting into song here and there during the stories, and his voice was powerful and handsome.
I stayed there on the couch with him for much longer than I had planned to, and was alerted to this when I noticed the clock on the wall.
"Eleven already!? Gosh, I better get going! I have classes tomorrow!"
He grinned and stood up when I did.
"Julia, before you go, can I see your phone?"
I smiled and handed it to him, and he typed in his number. I asked for his phone and did the same.
Then he reached out to hug me tightly, and I smiled up at him when he released me.
He went with me to the front door and opened it for me.
"Good-night Piero," I said, turning to smile and wave at him before I went down the steps to my car.
"Good-night Julia."
He stayed in the doorway, watching me as I climbed into my car, then he waved and stepped back into the house.