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The sun travelled all through the sky and crashed over the horizon spreading sunset lava over it. Summers in Madrid are usually unbearably hot but cold of today’s evening goes deep into bones. Cris wraps up tighter in his hoody and looks at the bright sunset, the fire which doesn’t warm.
He didn’t plan to come home that early but he’s happy it happened that way. No matter how hard he tries to subdue his life to the order, something always goes wrong. Could he prevent some of the failures, he wonders… And why do we get attached to the people long before we realize what they can do to our lives?..
Leo didn’t say a word about it when they discussed summer plans four months ago nor when they met in Barcelona a few weeks ago. Cris found the article in the Internet by chance and now he asked Leo on the phone. Of course he didn’t forget to chuckle dismissively after the question.
“Are you serious?” It’s all but funny but that’s why Cris is laughing. “A black tuxedo, a bride in a white dress and all your relatives from Argentina?”
“Kind of”.
“I can’t imagine you among this Argentinean tribe. I guess my invitation was stolen by a postman?”
Just a short laugh in return.
“Your wedding is going to be the most boring thing ever”, the main thing is not to let the mask fell off, to be impudent, to play this role till the end. “Can you imagine what a furor it will be if I show up. I can be the one who says: I know the reasons why the wedding can't take place”. And Cris laughs again because somewhere deep inside the awful feeling’s untwisting and he can’t bear it. It cankers him.
There’s still silence on another end of the line.
“Fine. Relax, I’m just kidding. The peace in my life is more precious to me. By the way, when are you coming?”
The pause lasts just two seconds, but it’s more than enough for Cris to understand. He wishes he didn’t know the answer.
“I won’t come”.
Ingenuously. Straightforward.
Cris closes his eyes and hides away a smirk. Bull’s Eye.
“Ok. Then…I’m having two days off before Confederation Cup…
“You didn’t understand. I won’t come at all”, Leo’s voice doesn’t shake or change and that’s probably the most painful thing. “And I wish you to have a proper rest before the Cup”. His tone is so polite that the only thing Cris wants to do is to swear hard and suggest what he should do with his politeness. But Cris doesn’t have enough strength to do it anymore. Any words and any impulses are stuck inside, get paralyzed by the same things. Things which he shouldn’t feel.
Jackpot! All bets are won. And for the first time in his life Cris wishes he wasn’t that lucky.
“I won’t come”. Lie. Even now Cris knows Leo would call him in a couple of months. As though nothing happened. With that world-known unreadable expression on his face.
Because, after all, what does it change? Anto was always around his, followed him like shadow. Fuck, she was in his life longer than he was. But still what does this few words in passports, a banquet for a million people and endless line of photos in the Internet change?
The questions are hanged in the air while the answers are falling all out of place. The wind picks them up and scatters them like useless confetti. Everything is pointless and meaningless. Everything is transiently.
This won’t change anything but why does he feel like in this simple phrase “I won’t come” there’s undertone “I’m starting a new life and nothing can be as it used to be”?
Leo, you were never a good boy and it’s too late to change. Leo, it was one-way ticket and there’s no way out in such relationship. Leo…
The sun disappeared over the horizon and there’s only a slight haze left. Just the afterglow of the gone day. The world is spinning like a Mad Hatter and they will never have enough time. But they don’t need it anymore. Everything changed and gone back to the start. One more step and they will be much more further from each other than they were before. Before people put their names into circulation and earned fortunes on their imagined rivalry.
Everything comes to an end sooner or later. And the sooner you understand the easier it’s for you to live. The voice on the other end of the line is gone soon followed by short beeps. They are like debris of the past, like someone is tearing what was between them. Telephone lines go nowhere and no one gonna answer to your call.
But even millions of signatures on the most official papers are not able to finish this story. In six months everything will start over, just because even the most happiest marriage won’t fulfill what’s running in veins now.
The night opens the toothless mouth and swallows Madrid in one fell swoop. For some reasons Cris thinks that here nights are darker than in Barcelona. There’s a light in the house behind him. There’s his family waiting for him. There’s the life totally controlled by himself.
The air is warm but he can’t keep warm. He breathes in deeply as if he needs to jump into cold water. But it’s just a leap back into reality. Cristiano turns and heads to the house.
The 30th of June is in a few hours. The day which will start endless July and everlasting August. The day which won’t change anything.