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Van Dijk wouldn't have been here if things had gone the way he'd planned. But things hadn't gone that way at all. Netherlands had lost the Nations League on home soil, and he'd never been more frustrated in his life. And considering that he was the epitome of "calm as you like", that was saying a lot.
Like every human being, Van Dijk had his weaknesses. Caramel candy, good cologne, well-tailored polos--the list could go on and on. His greatest weakness, undoubtedly, was his ego. And after the embarrassing defeats to Croatia and Italy, with him as the main stopper and captain, that had been crushed to pieces. It was the crowning jewel of a disappointing season for Van Dijk, both for club and country.
It was why he'd taken a detour to Barcelona, where the Brazil national team was staying. After the final whistle for the third-place match--why those were invented, Van Dijk would never understand--he'd packed his bags and taken the first flight to the Spanish city. Normally Van Dijk would never fly to Spain on his own will, especially since Liverpool had only been eliminated in the UDL by Spanish teams since he'd come. But this time, it was different.
Thankfully, the receptionist of the training camp recognized Van Dijk immediately. After a quick photo together and some chatting, Van Dijk found the back gardens that the Selecao were using as a pitch.
For the sake of not disrupting training, Van Dijk tried to stay hidden, pulling on a black beret and coat to disguise his silhouette. It would've worked, if Barcelona wasn't so hot. Sweat dripped down Van Dijk's forehead as he shifted positions, adjusting for the sun's blazing rays going behind the clouds. He bumped into a cooler, stocked with drinks, and decided that it wouldn't hurt if he took a sip of water.
Just when Van Dijk was perfectly positioned with his water bottle, the sun came out and illuminated his shadowy hiding place. Before Van Dijk could react or find a new spot, a pair of arms reached out from behind him and hugged him tight.
*
"Found you!"
Van Dijk spun around, breathing a sigh of relief when he realized that the voice belonged to Alisson and not a security officer. Alisson's face was red, as if he was sunburnt, and his right finger was bandaged and secured. "How did you find me?!"
Alisson shook his head, holding Van Dijk's beret up in the air. "A beret, Virgil? Not exactly low profile. I've shared a locker room with you for five years, I'd know your silhouette if you were wearing a tent for disguise!"
"Might as well wear a tent, considering the most recent performances. I was garbage out on the pitch, I need something to hide my face from the shame. Otherwise, I'll be recognized." He lowered the beret onto his head, letting it cover his eyes. "Maybe a tent isn't a bad idea after all."
Alisson watched in surprise as Van Dijk let his head hang, a stark comparison to the Dutchman's nearly-immaculate posture. Disappointment was an uncommon emotion for the usually-confident Van Dijk, but Alisson had seen it before. He knew the frustration of feeling powerless after giving his all first-hand; it had been a prevailing emotion for him during the season. If there was one thing worse than feeling that, it was seeing Van Dijk go through it.
"Come with me."
"What, and be seen?" Van Dijk shook his head, clinging onto the concrete post. "No way. They're all going to think I'm a loser. Do you know how many players on your team whipped us this season?"
Alisson took Van Dijk's arm, pulling him away from the shadows and into the light of the training pitch. "Do you think I forgot watching every one of those goals get past me, Virgil? Trust me, they won't make fun of you. And if they do, I'll remind them about how Saliou assassinated our defense yesterday."
The mention of Mane seemed to partially take Van Dijk's mind off his troubles. The two had played together at both Southampton and Liverpool, and had bonded along the way. "How is he?"
"Great. We chatted after the match with Taffa. He told me all about his friendship with Thomas, it's the cutest thing ever. They even buy little socks for Thomas' horse Dave, it's so sweet. Although Saliou thinks that Thomas needs to stop blasting German folk music at two in the morning."
“What have you been up to?”
Alisson only smiled cryptically. "You'll see, now come on! Don't make me have to lure you with caramel candy."
Van Dijk groaned, trying to ignore the way his brain and taste buds lit up at the very mention of caramel. He grabbed Alisson's hand and let himself be dragged off, his stomach growling as he thought of the sweet caramel candy.
As soon as Van Dijk was within sight of the Brazil players, he relaxed upon seeing the looks on their faces. Instead of mockery, there were some smiles and a few waves. All the teasing, though, was reserved for Alisson.
"Ei, abraçador!" Vinicius called over from the other side of the pitch. "Vai tomar uma caipirinha com o namorado de novo?"
Alisson blushed slightly, shaking his head. "Pela última vez Vini, ele é apenas um amigo!"
Ederson flashed the pair a toothy grin as he clapped the dirt off his gloves. "Says every lover in existence before the engagement ring comes out."
Taffarel rolled his eyes, leaning against the gate with a water bottle in hand. Even the coaches, who stayed relatively still compared to the players, were at risk of overheating in this weather. " Deixe-os em paz agora, rapazes. Get back to training."
Vinicius just laughed, juggling the ball in the air. He shot it past Ederson while he wasn't looking, eliciting a startled yelp from the goalkeeper. "You two have fun now, okay? And no running off to Las Vegas for the wedding!”
“ Que?!
*
"Sorry about that," Alisson apologized as he and Van Dijk finally made it into the air-conditioned building. "The guys can burn more than the hot summer sun. And yet I can list all the times Vini snuck Rodrygo in here this year alone."
"Is that why your face is all red? Sunburn?"
"Sunburn, stress, and embarrassment. Rosacea is nothing to envy, it hurts a lot."
They quickly made their way to the elevator, glad to see it was empty. As soon as the doors closed, Alisson cupped Van Dijk's face in his hands, careful to mind his injured finger. "You're not the only one to blame for that loss, you know. It's like the boss says--we win as a team and we lose as a team."
"But we aren't a team now. There's Cody, but that's about it. We were out there, playing like a bunch of strangers instead of a team. And that's what we are." Van Dijk sighed, leaning against the cool elevator wall. "I'm captain. I should be uniting us all, but all I'm doing is dividing us. Now the camp is split into two parts: those who think I'm not the only one at fault for this, and those who think I should retire with immediate effect."
Alisson gently pinched Van Dijk's cheek as if Van Dijk were a small child. Van Dijk, who was a year older than Alisson, found the gesture ironic yet oddly comforting. "We love you Virgil, even when you don't play well. Although it certainly doesn't help us out back there in the defensive line!"
"But they hate me. I'm not even sure if I disagree with them now. Justin's giving me the silent treatment, Nathan is avoiding me, and the manager just gives me this disappointed stare every time we bump into each other. Even Cody's upset with me because I don't have as much time to hang out with him. Now I know why Hendo couldn't find time to fix my hair dryer—skipper duties are hard."
Alisson put his arm around Van Dijk and squeezed him tightly, ruffling his hair. "That's no excuse for them to treat you like that. You tried your best out there, and you made some important stops. Did you make a mistake? Sure. But you admitted that you weren't your best. I know it's a little ironic that I'm saying this, but you have to move on."
The elevator bell rang. The doors slid open, letting in a whoosh of cold air as the faint sound of music floated through the halls.
"But how do I move on when everyone hates my guts?" Van Dijk stared down at the tiles, trying not to lose his composure. "It's worse than it is with you. You don't make mistakes, and everyone still calls you 'lettuce hands'."
"You think I don't make mistakes? As soon as we get into my room, I'm going to pull up all the highlight reels of my worst howlers and let you laugh at them." Alisson chuckled, pulling Van Dijk closer to him. "What about that time I passed the ball directly to Vini? Or when I touched the ball outside the box and got that red card? Or every time I've slipped while taking a goal kick? I assure you Virgil, I've made enough mistakes to fill a museum exhibit."
At that point, Van Dijk could feel the storm inside him calm down a bit. He took a moment to absorb it all--Alisson's hands in his hair, the neutral-colored walls of the building, and the faint samba music in the air. Slowly, he felt less of the need to hide in the nearest garbage can.
*
“Close your eyes,” Alisson instructed Van Dijk as he opened the door to the room he shared with Ederson. “And no peeking until I say you can open them!”
“You’re lucky it’s me. If it was Darwin, he’d deliberately disobey you and hold up a pair of binoculars.”
“Alright, open sesame!”
Before Van Dijk even opened his eyes, he could smell whatever surprise Alisson had in surprise. His eyes lit up and his mouth watered as he saw a dozen orange, heart-shaped candy boxes, tied up with ribbon and sitting neatly on the nightstand. “Are those brigadeiros?”
“Caramel-chocolate ones. I had to bribe Ederson with Philippe’s secret caipirinha recipe so he didn’t scarf them all down.” Alisson held up an open box in front of Van Dijk. “Try one.”
Van Dijk didn’t need to be asked twice. He took three of the truffles and popped them into his mouth, sighing in ecstasy as the caramel exploded on his taste buds. “More?”
“They’re all yours, caramelo.” Alisson pushed the box towards Van Dijk, watching as the defender rocked back and forth like a happy child. Van Dijk rarely let others see this side of himself, the one that could only be exposed by the worst situations and caramel-flavored confections.
When Van Dijk finally stopped at his twelfth brigadeiro, Alisson was afraid that he’d unleashed Van Dijk: Sugar Rush Edition. Instead, Van Dijk lay down on the bed, hugging Alisson tightly.
Well, this isn’t how it usually goes. Alisson wasn’t one to complain, though. He never refused a warm hug, even when it was steaming hot outside.
Van Dijk fell asleep before Alisson could even react to the hug. Alisson smiled and shook his head. He liked Van Dijk, even if he could spend an entire afternoon talking about Gucci's new spring fashion brand.