Gianluca Ginoble and I
Chapter 1
*Author's note: Hello everyone, I'm back, and proud to present my second fanfiction to you! This one is about Il Volo, a teenage singing trio from Italy. If you haven't heard of them, I encourage you to look them up, as the story might be better if you have the soundtrack to go along with it! Those of you who wanted a longer fanfiction will be pleased to know that this one is more lengthy than I Love You, Dan Howell (my first fanfiction). I had a lot of fun writing this, and put in a lot of time, and I hope you enjoy it! Feel free to email me at annawritesfanfiction at gmaildotcom. (The site doesn't let you write the address normally.) Enjoy…
I took the tea from the fridge and went out into the garden, running a hand through my wet, loosely curly brown hair. I went to my bench and sat cross-legged on it, the cup of tea in my hands. I had been studying for exams all day, and I was trying to shut my brain off before bed. It's very hellish when you end up dreaming about exams all night.
I sat quietly, listening to the silence of the night. One of the little bunnies that adore my garden hopped out of a bush and scampered off into the vegetable patch. I let it go. I didn't really plant them for me as much as for the bunnies.
I quietly sipped my tea, and pulled my phone out of the pocket of my shorts. I scrolled through my music and put on a song called "O Sole Mio" by a group called Il Volo. I had come across them on Youtube one day and loved their music. They were Italian, and sang songs in Italian, Spanish, and English, and they were absolutely beautiful. The songs, I mean, but that adjective could stand for the guys as well.
The music was just what I needed to be soothed, and I smiled to myself and dangled my bare foot off the bench.
But then I heard something outside the garden. A rustling, and a shadow fell over the little garden light.
I put my tea down beside me and stood. I glanced fearfully over at the back door, my heart beginning to pound.
Il Volo sang, and I called out into the night, trying to mask the fear rising in my chest.
"Who's there!? Come out!"
I reached for my phone.
Someone stepped into the garden, and the light fell across his face.
I dropped the phone in surprise, and the music stopped playing.
"Hey," I said. "I know you."
"Do you?" he asked in a deep Italian accent.
"You're Gi- Gian-"
"Gianluca Ginoble."
"Yeah, that." I looked over his silky-looking dark hair, deep brown eyes, and crooked smile.
"Sorry I frightened you," he said in that amazing accent, "But I heard someone playing one of our songs, and I was curious to find out who."
"Yeah," I said, "No problem. I'm Naomi Kendall, by the way. Sorry for my…appearance…I have finals tomorrow."
"Naomi," he repeated. "Do you know that it means beautiful?"
I could feel myself blushing. I looked down at my bare feet in the grass and smiled.
"No," I said simply, "I didn't."
"It's s pleasure to meet you," he said, extending his hand.
I reached out, but instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips and kissed it, and I was blushing all over again.
"Do you want to sit?" I asked, trying to be polite.
We went to the bench, and I took the glass of tea in my hands and sat crossed legged again. Gianluca sat next to me, leaving a little space between us, his hands rubbing circles on his jeans. I watched him look around us and then smile at me.
"This is a beautiful garden," he said.
"Thank you. I planted everything myself. I just love nature!"
"It shows," he said.
This seemed too…normal. This was Gianluca Ginoble, part of Il Volo! My heart was still pounding. This doesn't just happen! Does it?
"So…what in the world are you doing here!? This is crazy, one minute I'm listening to this lovely Italian trio, and the next, one of the singers is in my backyard!"
He chuckled.
"Well, the other guys and I used to live in L.A., but our parents wanted to live someplace quieter, so we just moved here yesterday."
"Oh," I said. "That explains all the moving vans. I didn't have time to go and see what was going on because I had to study. So… do the other two guys live on this street now as well?"
"Yes," he said. "I'll have to introduce you."
"Yes, please!" I said excitedly. "Wow! Il Volo lives on my street!"
He smiled his crooked smile at me. Gosh, he was handsome.
"So you have finals tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I came outside to quiet my brain before going to sleep, but it looks like that's out, now that I'm sitting next to Gianluca Ginoble!"
He smiled.
"Sorry about that. Do you mind me asking what grade you are in?"
"I'm a senior. I'm eighteen, and ready to be done with high school!"
He chuckled softly.
"I'm eighteen also. But I had a private tutor, and I am finished with high school. Now I can focus purely on music. It's wonderful!"
"I love your accent," I said. "Where are you from, again?"
"A place called Abruzzo, in central Italy. It's close to Rome. It is a very beautiful place."
"I'd love to go to Italy! I've never even left the U.S."
"Maybe someday you will go."
"I hope so, but probably not. Is Il Volo touring or something right now?"
"We actually just finished our tour. We are on a break for the summer, but we'll do concerts and interviews here and there. Going on a tour is very… hectic. We're very happy to have some time to relax and write some music! After the summer we'll start planning more events, but I don't think we'll be touring anymore for a long while."
"Awesome," I said, sipping my tea.
One of the braver bunnies hopped up and sniffed Gianluca's shoe.
He looked surprised, and I laughed softly.
He turned to me.
"The little bunnies love the garden," I explained, slowly reaching down my hand to it.
It rubbed its little face against it and hopped back into the bushes.
"Maybe not the garden as much as you," he commented, and I smiled and finished my tea.
"So," he said. "You listen to Il Volo."
"I love Il Volo," I admitted, nodding, "You guys sing beautifully."
"Thank you," he said, smiling crookedly, "We love to sing!"
"I watched one of your concerts on PBS one time. You looked like you were having a lot of fun, and you handed out roses to people in the audience. It was so sweet!"
"Concerts are a lot of fun, once you get over being nervous, and the people just get so happy when we give them a rose!"
"Oh, I bet," I said, nodding, and something around his neck caught my eye. I reached out to examine it, and he stayed still as I did so. It was a medal of a silver eagle with outstretched wings, soaring. On the wings the words "Il Volo" were engraved. I flipped it over to discover engraved Italian words.
"This is nice," I said, "Can you tell me what it means?"
"It means good luck. My mother gave it to me when Il Volo was formed, on an Italian T.V. show when the three of us were kids. I guess it's a sort of my good luck charm."
We were quiet for a second, and I fidgeted with the empty glass.
"Well, you better go to sleep, or study some more, for your finals, yes?"
I made a face.
"Yeah, I guess so."
He smiled and stood, and as did I.
"I'll see you tomorrow, maybe?"
"Probably. Tomorrow's the last day of finals, and I'll get home early, at around lunchtime."
He held out his hand, and I took it. Like before, he raised it to his lips and kissed it.
"Until tomorrow, Naomi Kendall."
"Good night, Gianluca Ginoble."