Chapter Text
“Roger? Rafa? What are you guys doing out here?”
Andy had been on the tour long enough to have seen some unusual things in his time, but one of the stranger scenes had to be stumbling upon Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal standing in the middle of an empty hotel hallway at midnight in their underwear.
“And what happened to your clothes?” he asked.
Roger and Rafa looked at each other sheepishly, and then Rafa turned the most pathetic look on Andy.
“We are stuck,” he said, eyes huge and cheeks turning pink. “There is a ghost inside and we ran out without the key or our phones. So now we cannot get back in or call for help.”
“A what? A ghost? For real?” asked Andy.
“Yes, they told me the hotel was the most haunted building in Vancouver, but I didn’t think it was real, until we heard the banging noises and things in the room started moving around on their own,” said Roger, waving his hands around, excitable in a freaked out sort of way.
At that moment, Novak’s head poked out of a room several doors down. “Guys? What’s going on out here?”
“They think there’s a ghost in their room,” called Andy back in a tone that clearly showed what he thought of that idea.
“It’s true!” Rafa insisted. “The hotel is haunted.”
Novak rolled his eyes. “Yeah, so? Why are you out here making so much noise?”
“Because there’s a ghost!” said Roger, gesturing at their room.
“Oh come on, there’s no such thing as ghosts,” groaned Andy.
“How do you know?” asked Rafa.
Andy flung an arm out at the door. “Did you see the ghost? Actually see it?”
“No,” admitted Rafa, crossing his arms defensively, “but that doesn’t mean is not real. We heard banging inside the walls. And stuff on the table, it moved.”
Andy gave Rafa and Roger a pointed look. “Are you sure the banging sound was a ghost and not your bed banging against the wall?”
“No! We have not even gotten on the—ow!” Rafa glared at Roger, who had elbowed him sharply.
“Ghosts are real, I’ve seen them too, but it’s nothing to be scared of,” said Novak, padding out into the hallway in his pajamas and socks. “You guys are huddled out here like a bunch of scared teenage girls.”
“Hey! I have teenage girls, and they’re way braver than me,” Roger shot back. “If you’re so brave, then you can go in there.”
“Okay, give me the key and I will!”
“They don’t have the key, that’s why they’re stuck out here,” sighed Andy, rubbing a hand over his face.
Novak groaned.
Everyone looked around, as if the solution was going to magically appear on the walls.
“Wait, why are you two both here?” Novak asked suddenly, eyeing Roger and Rafa. He pointed at Roger. “Don’t you have the penthouse above us?” He totally missed Andy furiously shaking his head and making “cut it” gestures behind them. “And why are you not wearing clothes?” he asked suspiciously.
Rafa’s cheeks turned even pinker. “We, ah, we have meeting in my room and, uh…”
“Players Council,” Andy cut in. “We have stuff to discuss. Confidential stuff. I was just on my way to the meeting. Sorry I’m late, guys.”
“No problem, Andy. Maybe we can move the meeting to your room and use your phone to call the front desk,” said Roger as smoothly as he could, given the circumstances.
Novak looked from one to the other with a look that said he wasn’t buying what they were selling. “But why do you meet in your underw—“
“Gotta go!” exclaimed Andy, clapping Novak on the shoulder and pushing past him. “Rafa and I have the first games against Team World tomorrow, and it’s past midnight. We better go finish that meeting and go to bed. In our own separate beds, not together, of course.”
Roger and Rafa followed Andy down the hall, leaving Novak standing there.
“Umm, okay, see you guys tomorrow,” he called.
All three of them waved without turning around and then ducked into Andy’s room. The door slammed shut.
Novak put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “And people say I’m the weird one.”