Arrivederci, Murano.

The summer had come and gone in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Santana spent the entire summer at her parents' second home in Murano Italy and tomorrow she would be sucked back into reality and a career that she all but abandoned three months prior. Part of her wished the life she had been living these past few months could be her new normal. And if she was honest with herself it was a pretty big part of her. To continue her mundane existence in this small town, where no one really knew her and the few people that actually did know her only knew her as Santana, the daughter of Maribel and Tomas Lopez who have been vacationing here every summer since Santana was a baby. They didn't think of her as Santana Lopez international Pop Star. To the locals of Murano, she was still just Santana. It was incredibly refreshing. But the other part of her, the part that she had forced into silence since May, was waking from its slumber and it needed attention. There were songs that needed to be written, records that needed recording, interviews that needed to be given and cities needing to be toured. Santana had a lot of commitments waiting for her back home in the states. She was anxious the get back to normalcy but apprehensive to leave behind her life of simplicity she had grown accustomed to recently.

The sun was setting just beyond the horizon. Santana sat on her balcony with her legs up on her chair bent at the knees and arms curled around them. She threw her head back and let out a gentle sigh. "A few minutes to myself… finally," she thought to herself. The aroma of the salt water engulfed her as she breathed deeply to the rhythm of the crashing waves; relishing in a few stolen moments of solitude. She looked out at the canal in front of her and watched as the boats sped by in the distance. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the sounds she wouldn't be hearing after today. Hoping to cement the sounds in her mind so she could recall them when she was feeling second-home sick. If she listened closely, it wasn't hard to do. Santana had developed a talent for isolating sounds. She attributed it to her music writing process. Her mother, however, attributed it to her "selective hearing process" as she would scold. Santana breathed in deeply once again and started taking in the cluttered sounds of her surroundings. She could hear the faint sound of children laughing and playing in the nearby park, the motors of the speed boats clicking away in the canal, the obnoxiously loud soccer match radiating from Signor Minniti's television next door, the gentle breeze blowing throw the lace curtains behind her, the smooth strum of the guitar being played at the outdoor cafe on the corner and lastly, but also most importantly, the sounds of the waves crashing into the island walls just below her Balcony. Santana sighed. She wasn't ready to part with her peace and quiet yet. She wasn't ready for the spray tanned, scantily clad, plastic faced Angelinos. But she had spent enough time away. She couldn't escape forever.

"Mija?" she heard her mother's voice callout from inside the house.

"I'm out here," she called back.

Maribel stepped out onto the balcony and stood behind her daughter. Placing a hand on her shoulder she spoke, "Santana, honey… what's wrong?"

Santana didn't take her eyes off of the canal. "I'm just gonna miss this place."

"Sweetheart, if you want to stay just say the word. You know your father and I would be delighted to have you with us a little longer."

Santana reached up and touched her mom's hand on her own shoulder. "I know, mami. I know." She continued, "But I have to get back home. My label isn't going to wait forever for me to finish recording this next album."

"You could record it here. Euginio has top of the line recording equipment in his studio. He would love to have you in for a session."

Santana let out a small chuckle. She turned in her seat to face her mother.

"What?" Her mother asked.

"Mami, Euginio is sweet. And he has offered a bunch of times, I know…"

Maribel interrupted, "He has everything you would need, Mija…"

"I know, mami, I know. But I just… can't. The label wants me to record in their studio. They have people they want me to meet with; producers, writers, etc."

Santana's eyes followed her mother's movement across the balcony. Maribel rubbed her temples gently before crossing her arms. "I just worry about you. I worry that you aren't going to take care of yourself. That you are going to pour your heart and soul into this new album and you aren't going to focus on yourself at all." She paused for a moment. Her eyes met Santana's and Santana could see the genuine concern filling her mother's face. "And after everything that happened… I worry most about your heart."

Santana could see how worried her mom was. She wanted to move from her chair and wrap her arms tightly around her petite mother but instead, rather instinctually, she felt herself sit up straighter and puff out her shoulders and chest a bit before saying, "Please mom, don't worry about me. I am fine. I am so over all of that. Trust me."

Her mother didn't seem to be so easily convinced. "Santana, she broke your heart. She abused your trust. She sold your love story to the highest bidder. How can you be over that. It's only been a few months."

"Because I have to be, mami!" she snapped.

Maribel's eyes jumped from concern to shock.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. I just don't want… I don't want to talk about that. Ok?" Santana felt terrible. She knew her mom was just trying to help her. Just trying to understand what her daughter was feeling.

Maribel moved to where Santana was sitting. Santana stood and wrapped her arms about her mother's neck and pulled into an embrace. "Santana, I love you."

"I love you too, mami."

"Whenever you are ready to talk about your feelings… about… you know… I will be here."

"You will be my first call."

With that Maribel broke from Santana's embrace and made her way back into the house through Santana's bedroom. Santana flopped back down into her chair. She slowly drummed her fingers on her knee. Her mind scampering off to the morning of the betrayal. A few moments later Santana forced those thoughts away. She has her whole life to reflect back on that day. No need to waste her last few hours in her own personal paradise reliving past heartache. She moves from her chair and into the house. She is mostly packed save the clothes she is currently wearing and her sleepwear for that night. She notices the time, almost 8:30. She thinks to herself, "I could turn in for the night now." She would have to be up early in the morning to head to the airport. She round her fingers through her deep brown hair mutters "Oh, screw it," slips on a pair of flip flops and heads downstairs.

"I'm going to get a drink. Either of you want to come?" She calls out to her parents as she reaches for the doorknob. Her parents looks at one another and both nod and move to their feet with smiles on their faces.

"Sure, why not." Tomas said eagerly.

"He thought you'd never ask," Maribel laughed.

Santana smiled.

"Papa, call Euginio. Tell him to meet us at the Domenico's."

Domenico's was a local bar on Murano. Santana spent almost every other night tossing back a few drinks and singing the occasional duet with Angelo, the bartender and Euginio's son. People on Murano knew that Santana was famous. They knew she was a successful American artist but it didn't phase them. She had spent every summer of her life, until she went to college, on the island. This was her first time back in nearly 10 years. When she stepped foot on the island she was greeted with the friendly wave, and normal pleasantries any local would get. Not the normal "red carpet welcome" she had gotten in so many other areas of the world, even Los Angeles. Murano was just different. People there didn't care about celebrity status. Well, that's not entirely true. If Brad Pitt were to step foot on the island the town would absolutely go berserk. And it's not to say they weren't proud of Santana. They loved her dearly and were beaming ear to ear with pride for the girl. But they essentially either watched her grow up or grew up with her. Their pride could be likened to the way parents feel when their child makes Dean's list, for example. The parents are happy/excited and maybe take their child out for dinner, or shout out a grand congratulations on their Facebook page… they don't tend to roll out the red carpet. That's the way this town reacted to Santana's fame and success. Which is why singing in the local bar felt almost as intimate as singing for her family. So her impromptu duets with Angelo at Domeinco's were relaxing and enjoyable. They knew she was the real deal and they knew they were experiencing something special whenever she opened her mouth and the music flowed from her soul.

"Buona sera, Angelo!"

"Buona sera, bellissima!" Angelo flashed his dimpled smile at Santana. "Cosa stai bevendo stasera?"

Santana answered that she would like a vodka. "Straight up. On the rocks." She smiled. She took in the atmosphere looking all around. She smiled at anyone that met her eyes with theirs. She wasn't sure when she would be back. Hopefully not another 10 years.

The bar wasn't very crowded. It was a Friday night but it was still early. It would start to fill up in about an hour or so. Santana wasn't sure how long she would be able to stay. She really should be back at the house getting some rest before flying back home tomorrow. It was a long journey back to LA. Her first flight would stop in London and then connect again in Philadelphia before heading out to Los Angeles. She was already beginning to dread the trip. She threw back her drink and lightly tapped the glass on the bar signaling to Angelo that she was ready for another. She turned toward the door just as her parents entered with Euginio.

"Ciao, Bella!" Euginio called out.

"Hola!" Santana tease.

"Hola? Blehh" Eugioned grumbled. "Why would you choose to speak Spanish when you could just speak italian.

"I kid, Euginio, I kid." Santana chuckled. "What do you have against the Spanish language anyway?" she glared at him playfully.

"Not a thing, my dear." He said in his thick italian accent. "It is a beautiful language. The language of your heritage," he smiled. "The language of some very beautiful people." He winked at her. "But, we are in italy. We speak italian here."

"But you are speaking English right now…" she winked at him.

"Only because you Americans refuse to learn our language!" He laughed and playfully punched Tomas in the shoulder.

"Not true," Tomas replied with a smile. "My daughter, wife and I are all fluent in all three languages."

"Truth be told. English is easiest for me." Santana admitted.

"Which is why we all speak it when you are around, mio amore." Angelo chimed in with a dimpled smile.

Maribel leaned close to Santana. She whispered "Does Angelo know?" He voice trailed off a bit but then came back a bit closer to Santana's ear "…that he doesn't have a chance with you?"

You look at her and nod. "I told him last week."

Santana was completely unaware that Angelo had developed a crush on her. They had been friends growing up. Their relationship was never anything other than platonic. So when he confessed his love to her last Friday night she was caught completely off guard. Upon hearing his confession, she immediately felt guilty… like she had done something wrong. Something to lead him on. He assured her that wasn't the case. They had been spending a lot of time together and he just got the wrong impression. She was afraid their relationship would be ruined but he assured her that wasn't the case. They saw one another every day since "the incident" so Santana felt assured their friendship would remain enact.

After filling her mom in on the details and apologizing for not telling her sooner, Santana was called up onto the small stage by Euginio. He explained to the small crowd that tonight would be Santana's last night on Murano he then asked Santana if she would mind singing a song or two as a farewell gift to the town. Everyone knew it would be a long time before Santana would have the chance to visit again. She smiled and addressed the crowd, agreeing to sing a few songs before heading home. But only if Angelo would promise to sing one song with her.

Sanatana awoke to the sound of her phone buzzing on the table beside her. It was 4:45 am and her water taxi would be there in 15 minutes to pick her up and take her to the mainland to catch her chauffeur to the airport. She quickly threw on her travel clothes; black sweatpants, white cami, and black zip up hoodie. She walked into her parents room and kissed them each on their foreheads and whispered "i love you" before heading downstairs to collect her bags. She double checked to make sure she had everything she needed; travel documents, passport, ID, wallet, and her black GUCCI sunglasses which were tucked safely in her purse. She would need those once she landed all the airports, especially LAX, to shield her eyes from the flash of the paparazzi cameras. She looked around the house one last time taking it all in. She left out a gentle sigh and closed her eyes as she reached for the door. She pulled it open and dragged her luggage out behind her. When she stepped outside she could see the lights from the water taxi awaiting her arrival out at the edge of the dock. She looked down the street to get one final glimpse of the town she called home for the past few months. She smiled at the sight of the brightly painted homes and buildings. She saw Domenico's in the distance. She could feel her eyes welling up with tears but fought them back. She shook her head as if she was shaking any sad thoughts out of her mind and headed to toward the canal.

"Arrivederci, Murano." she thought to herself as he grabbed the man's hand to ease her way into the taxi.