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“I hate this,” Gakpo groaned, flipping over in bed for what seemed like the hundredth time. The feverish chill, ringing in his ear, and sweating was enough to drive someone insane. For somebody like Gakpo who hated any sounds that were too high-pitched or too close to his ear, it was even worse. His ear infection made everything seem even louder or more annoying than it usually was—even down to the simple sounds, like Van Dijk unwrapping a caramel when he thought nobody was looking.
If Gakpo was in Kirkby, it would’ve been a lot easier to deal with his ear infection. His teammates would be checking in on him every minute, and there would be the comforting sound of familiar shoes squeaking, thudding and tapping through the halls.
But Gakpo wasn’t in Kirkby. He was in the Netherlands training camp, and Van Dijk was the only sound that got even close to familiar or comforting. And while Gakpo loved Van Dijk like he was an older brother of sorts, listening to the older man ramble about designer shirts and eau de cologne was not exactly what Gakpo wanted to hear 24/7. He wanted to hear the jokes of his teammates, the banter between them as they moved from one drill to the next. He wanted to be back in Kirkby, with the team he called his family.
Unfortunately, that family was currently scattered all over the world. Klopp was probably the only one staying back at Kirkby—even the medics and other staff had gone on vacation. That left Gakpo laying on a standard medical bench in the Dutch training camp, waiting for Van Dijk to come back from training so they could go back to their hotel room and rest.
His phone vibrated, and he answered it. Was it Van Dijk, telling him that he was done with training and was on his way back? Was it Klopp, or even Milner? No, it was Diaz, of all people, calling at what Gakpo knew was probably a ridiculously early time on his end. Diaz would be calling from Colombia, after all.
"Cody, compadre!" There was loud laughter on the other end, and Gakpo couldn't help but smile. He hadn't heard Diaz's voice since everyone had left Kirkby for the end of the season , and it felt good to hear his voice, even though it rang in his ear terribly with the ear infection. "¿Cómo va el campamento holandés, amigo?"
With over a third of his teammates coming from Spanish or Portuguese speaking countries, and several others being able to speak one or both languages, Gakpo had picked up enough knowledge of both languages to understand what Diaz had asked him. He still didn't know how to answer, though.
"Terrible," he finally said, cradling the cell phone close to his ear. "This ear infection is killing me, and Virg's away all the time because of his 'captain's duties'."
Oh, how Gakpo wished Van Dijk was there. After giving him a hug—which in itself wasn’t common for Van Dijk—he would probably brew some tea or something to try and make him feel better. He knew that Van Dijk was dedicated to his job and responsibilities as team captain, but right now Gakpo wished he could be there with him instead of on the training pitch.
"He'll be back soon," Diaz reassured him from the other side of the phone. "After all, what could they possibly be discussing in that meeting that could take so long? I'm sure it's nothing too serious... unless they've set up a committee to plan the world's longest coffee break!"
Gakpo tried to laugh at Diaz's joke. He knew that his friend was trying to amuse him, yet with the pain in his ears and feverish chill he couldn’t find the humor.
Gakpo tried to laugh at Diaz's joke. He knew that his friend was trying to amuse him, yet with the pain in his ears and feverish chill he couldn’t find the humor. So he attempted a fake laugh--but what came out was more akin to the sound of fossilized oak wood on a cheese grater.
"Whoa, you do not sound good!" Gakpo had forgotten that he was still on speaker. Now Diaz's concern clearly showed through his tone. "You should try to get some tea or something. I'd do it for you...if I was there and not nearly halfway across the ocean."
Gakpo smiled, relieved that Diaz was still looking out for him despite the distance. "I'll be fine eventually...I hope."
"At least let me help you a little," Diaz pleaded. "You sound so miserable, at least let me keep you company on the phone until Virgil gets back from the longest meeting in modern history. I wonder what they're talking about?”
Despite himself, Gakpo smiled a bit. "The only way Virg will stay at a meeting this long is if they're talking about fashion or Gucci perfume.”
"If they are, I'll bet you five thousand pesos that Virg won't be there when it's time to make the footballing decisions," Diaz chuckled. "He'd be too busy thinking about how he's gonna look in his latest outfit.”
Gakpo rolled his eyes at the thought of Van Dijk strolling into the medical wards, wearing some newfangled getup. "And I'll bet you twenty euros that Mo's posting pictures of his flawless abs on Twitter before he even gets on the plane to Egypt.”
"You think you know our teammates? Then I'll bet you ten thousand pesos that Kostas is ruining the definition of shorts again with that eyeball-insulting outfit. I'm pretty sure it's been illegal in fifteen continents by now.”
"Fifteen continents?"
"Yeah, the aliens have probably seen it through their UFOs and banned the style before it even got in their galaxy."
"Are we sure Kostas isn't an alien? I mean, how does any Earthly definition explain those eyebags?"
"Well, there are two possible explanations: either he's an alien, or he's been staying up late writing rap songs!"
"The way his rap songs turn out, he's better off catching some sleep."
Diaz and Gakpo spent the next fifteen minutes roasting their teammates. Gakpo's ear was still ringing from the infection, but he couldn't help but laugh along and come back with some burns of his own. Now he knew why Van Dijk said that this kind of love was his favorite. It was warm, yellow and cozy, with glittery sparkles and fizzy sparkles and fireworks—
This fever makes me think weird things.