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Alisson rolled his shoulders back as he walked to the bench where his backpack and extra bag were. He felt an uncomfortable crack and a sharp pain in his right shoulder. Damn it. Maybe the chronic pain had decided to appear just when he was playing perhaps the best game of his life. Ali sighs and carefully places the backpack straps on his arms without moving much. The locker room is almost empty. Only Mo, Cody and Darwin are with the Brazilian, the three of them talking to each other.
The goalkeeper whistles loudly and, without looking back, leaves the dressing room, heading towards the place where the team bus was parked, ready to take them to the airport, where they would return home after a frustrating game against Atalanta that kicked them shamefully out of the Europa League. Despite being calm, Alisson was furious with his friends. What the fuck was that!? He rolls his eyes as he climbs the bus steps and walks to the last seats, where he won't be disturbed. Macca shyly sits next to him, his roommate for the night before the game, and Alisson barely looks at him as he sets things down.
"Que juego de mierda." Alexis sighs, playing with his headphones between both hands.
"I agree." Alisson responds in Portuguese, with his forehead pressed against the window. "We did anything today except play football."
"I am really sorry."
"For what? It's all a combination of things."
"I know, but- look, I tried. I got stuck, I had to cover for Curt and-"
"Relax, man." Alisson pats Alexis on the thigh. "Now, it is what it is. Everyone here knows what they did best."
A few seconds of silence and then Alexis says: "Did you talk to him?"
"Who-" Understanding appears in the Brazilian's blue eyes. "No. And he didn't even come to talk to me. Trent said he was going home."
"You know you can count on me if you need to, right?"
Alisson opens a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "I know. I appreciate that. I was even surprised that you were here."
"Huh? Where else would I be?"
"Oh, I don't know." Alisson laughs softly and finally looks at Alexis. "Maybe with a certain Japanese guy somewhere."
Alexis rolls his eyes and laughs, putting on his headphones. "You're an idiot."
With the songs playing in his ears, Alisson tunes out the outside world and focuses on his mind. He had just returned from a nagging injury and things were far from paradise. Of course, he thanked God that Kelleher had done a good job during much of the time he was away - about two months, but he had no idea that his friend and position partner would be in so much trouble on defense. Alisson felt alone in that goal. Sighing internally, he checks his cell phone clock. It's almost eleven at night. He unlocks the device and logs into WhatsApp.
<Ederson>
Alisson: Hey man
Fortunately, the message doesn't take long to respond, the bubble ellipsis soon turning into a message.
Ederson: Hey
Ederson: Now we are both out of competitions 😄
Alisson: Not funny
Alisson: Are you around in Manchester?
Ederson: Yes
Ederson: Why?
Alisson: Oh
Alisson: Don't you want to come to the house when I get there?
Ederson: You will arrive at almost 1 am
Alisson: 🫤
Ederson: Are you already on the plane?
Alisson: Yes
Ederson: Okay
Ederson: I'll drive to the airport and pick you up
Alisson: Are you sure?
Ederson: Of course bro
Ederson: Tomorrow I'll take you to your training anyway
Ederson: So you can get your car
Alisson: Okay
Alisson: Thanks bro
Ederson: No problem big guy
Alisson smiles to himself, putting down his cell phone and looking out the small window of the plane. He can barely see anything outside. There's still another hour to go. Next to him, fortunately, there is no one. Due to tiredness, most of the boys sat spread out on the seats and this separated some of the usual pairs that were normally together. Alisson tries not to look at the bench diagonally from him or he will feel a knot in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't just football that was in trouble after the injury.
When they arrive in Liverpool, Alisson is one of the first to leave, the small dose of coffee he's had leaving him a little more in touch with his surroundings. He doesn't say goodbye to the team other than with a small message of thanks in the official chat. Now he just wants to go home and find his best friend. Ederson smiles broadly, even though Alisson can't see his eyes because of his sunglasses. This makes him belatedly realize that he forgot his on the nightstand in his hotel room. The other goalkeeper's strong arms wrap around Alisson in a familiar way and he feels good.
"You alright?" Ederson asks while unlocking the trunk of the car so Alisson can put the things there.
"A little altered by the coffee..." Alisson smiles. "But I'm feeling better than before."
"Excellent." Ederson gently squeezes the older man's neck, playfully. "International or Brazilian?"
And then, they both go from John Lennon Airport to Manchester listening to Ederson's Brazilian playlist. It had been a while since Alisson felt like this, at home. With Bobby, Fabi and Celo gone, he was a little alone among everyone else. See, even though he was in a relationship, Virgil had his two Dutch "sons", the Latin trio - and Spanish-speaking - was becoming more and more concrete, not to mention that each one had their duo. And even though he made friends with the other boys from South America and shared his taste for mate with them, it wasn't the same thing. So being in a car in the middle of the night listening to these songs with his best friend filled him with a comfortable feeling of belonging somewhere.
"I feel like you want to vent." Ederson holds the gourd while Alisson pours some mate into it. "You can tell me, I'm all ears."
"You're curious, that's what you are." Alisson laughs, but sits next to Edi and takes a sip of his own mate, feeling the hot liquid go down his throat.
"No, but I'm meaning it, Ali." Edi becomes serious, his brown eyes getting darker. "When I was driving, I noticed that sometimes your hands were shaking. And I know you well. You only have that when you're nervous."
Alisson sighs. "I... I mean- look, you have nothing to do with this, but, you know, I feel frustrated. Like- fuck. I did what I could! And yet they kept returning the ball to me and- and- I was almost out of options, and then we were eliminated and now Virgil doesn't want to talk to me and-" Alisson stops talking and holds a closed hand to his chest. The painfully familiar grip was there, along with the knot in his stomach, the shaking hands, and the feeling of being underwater.
"Hey, hey." Ederson squeezes the back of his head, trying to convey presence. "Do you want me to call someone? Is everything ok? We can call Bobby, he's always up after our games and you know that."
"N-no." Alisson clears his throat, his hand carefully gripping the fabric of his own pants. "I just... I'm overwhelmed and I just got back."
Ederson smiles knowingly, even though he is a year younger. "It sucks, doesn't it?"
Alisson laughs and little by little, his hand relaxes its grip. "Yes. But that's okay. It's my job."
"I know a little about being pressured during games." Ederson pats Ali on the back. "I'm here for you, man. I'm not leaving until you're okay."
Alisson sighs and allows himself to rest his head on Edi's shoulder. Maybe it's because he drank coffee and is tired, after all, it's almost half past two in the morning, but the point is that Alisson is feeling bad. What if the effort isn't enough, like last season? They won't have Bobby to save them this time. What if suddenly the fans stop supporting them and they were no longer able to earn their trust back?
"I can see your gears turning, big guy."
"Now that you see, make them stop." Alisson smiles and feels Ederson's big hand cover his ear that isn't pressed against his clothes.
"I am here." He says it so softly that it even scares Alisson. Ederson is extroverted and used to talking a lot. Ali thinks he has never heard him so softly, not even with his companions.
"I know, thank you."
A chaste kiss is pressed into his hair and Alisson feels the pressure in his chest disappear. He takes a sip of mate that is starting to get warm. Maybe he should tell Ederson to go away and go to sleep himself. Or, maybe he could stay a little longer, satisfying the longing to belong, to know that someone is there to get him because they simply understand.