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“Cazzo! Merda!”
The hotel room is quiet apart from the string of curse words being spit from the other end of the phone line. Isaac is silent, listening to the pacing footsteps. When there’s no more words coming through, he tries to offer comfort.
“Mi Príncipe, you did so well. You were so strong.”
“But it wasn’t enough!”
The voice crack at the end has Isaac’s heart clenching, and he picks up his phone to turn on his camera. “Mi sol, look at me. Are you looking?”
“Yeah…”
He puts on a sweet smile, trying for his most comforting look. “You were amazing, and everyone has bad days. It’s okay not to win. It’s okay. You’ve worked hard this entire Vuelta, and you weren’t even aiming for the General at first.”
On the other end of the line he hears a sigh, before the camera is turned on and Isaac gets to see Giulio’s pale, exhausted face. His red rimmed eyes and the tight set to his lips give away the disappointment his best friend is feeling.
“It’s just so frustrating,” Giulio says, gritting his teeth and glancing away.
“I know, Giulio, I know.”
“Even worse when you keep winning every race you start, and I can’t hold-”
“Stop that.” Isaac interrupts him, narrowing his eyes. “This is your second Grand Tour in half a year, and it’s the third week. You’ve raced a lot this season. I’ve been going after one-days. They’re not comparable.”
He leaves out the fact he finished dead last today. It wouldn't make a difference for the disappointment Giulio is currently feeling.
Another sigh, followed by his friend dropping onto his bed backwards. Giulio is quiet for a moment, and Isaac watches as the background shifts, his friend disappearing from view for a second as he's greeted by the view of the hotel ceiling.
Then, his friend returns, hanging above the phone with the smallest smile on his face. “I can't- It's just so disappointing. To lose the jersey so close to the finish after fighting for it for two weeks,” Giulio says, and Isaac lets out a snort.
“Tell me about it.”
His short response has Giulio's face twisting before he lets out a short chuckle. “Right. You'd know that better than anyone,” he says, the smile still present on his face. “I think I finally get how you felt.”
“I just wish you wouldn't have had to find out like this,” Isaac responds sincerely, returning Giulio's smile as he rolls over onto his side, placing his phone down sideways on the mattress.
“Yeah…”
They linger in silence for a moment, both caught up in thoughts about their season, the Grand Tours they've ridden, and everything in between.
“Giulio?” The silence is broken by a secondary voice from the other end of the phone, and Isaac watches as his best friend's head whips around towards where he assumes the door must be.
His friend is already getting up before he remembers to throw a “Give me a sec,” at Isaac over his shoulder.
The comment has the Mexican huffing a laugh. “Not much else I can do besides hang up,” he mutters to himself. And he'd be damned if he did that, with the state he'd be leaving Giulio in.
He lets his phone fall next to his head as he rolls over in his hotel bed, staring at the ceiling while he waits to hear from Giulio. He can make out their voices, but the shitty connection and the small distance to the phone make it hard to pick up any actual words.
Although he's not officially aware of who the person on the other end is, the hint of an accent and a certain Instagram video leave him to guess it must be Jai Hindley.
And sure enough, as soon as he finishes that thought, he can hear the voices getting closer, until there's a noise indicating Giulio has picked up his phone again.
Suddenly acutely aware it's not just his best friend watching, Isaac gets up, straightens out his shirt, and runs a hand through his slightly-damp hair.
It'll have to do.
“Isaac, you there?” His friend calls out the moment he goes to pick up his own phone.
“Yeah, I'm here.”
And he's greeted by the sight of two faces on the other end of the line, his friend indeed having been joined by his team leader Hindley.
“Hey mate,” the Aussie greets him, seemingly unconcerned by the fact his protégé is talking to a member of a rival team on the phone.
Giulio must have told him about their friendship. The thought makes something warm blossom in Isaac’s chest for a moment, a smile making its way to his face.
Still, as he’s unsure what to answer, he just nods and lifts his hand in an awkward greeting. Luckily, Hindley is an easy talker so he continues the conversation seamlessly. “Giulio told me you were cheering him up - thank you for that, by the way, mate - so thought I might as well join in. And you're a good kid so it could help you too.”
Giulio is smiling at Isaac over the phone, and the Mexican cannot help but wonder what Hindley has said to him so far. Still, he shoves his own personal questions about the situation aside, instead nodding at Hindley to continue.
“When I was your age - I feel old just saying that - but at that point I was still riding in the Under 23s, and you're already out here finishing top ten in Grand Tours…”
Jai's voice fades into the background as Isaac stares at Giulio's reaction instead. His best friend seems to finally have relaxed, looking less frustrated and upset, and more resigned and calm. He's looking at his teammate reverently, like he's the source of all wisdom in the world.
Isaac feels a slight twinge in his chest at the sight, especially when he realises Jai is smiling back at Giulio softly, and he can feel his lips turn into a small frown.
What are they to each other? Teammates? Domestique and captain? Or… something else?
The Instagram video returns to his mind, the way Jai was all flighty eyes and broad smiles.
I'll have to ask Giulio next time I get him alone in person. Isaac decides.
He's shaken from his thoughts by Giulio's chuckle, and he perks up at the sound of it. “You're right, thank you Jai,” his friend is saying as he zones back in.
“You'll get your chance, Giulio. You've got a long career ahead,” Jai reassures him, patting Giulio on the back and giving him a sideways hug before he gets up. “I'll leave you two to talk. I'm sure Isaac can give you more personal support than I can.”
You bet I can. There's a small victory in Isaac's mind at that fact.
Then, the door clicks shut behind the Aussie and they're alone again. The both of them are quiet for a while, until Giulio sighs and turns towards his phone properly, leaning back against his headboard and meeting Isaac's gaze.
“I miss you…” he says, letting out a tiny noise of distress. “I wish you were here, so I could hug you, and kiss you, and you could tell me everything is okay.”
There's desperation in his voice, and Isaac also wishes he was there with him. “I know, mi sol. I want to be there with you too. But it's one more day, and then we'll both be on our way home. And then I can hug and kiss you all you want.”
His response has Giulio smiling gently. “I'd like that…” he whispers sincerely.
“Just one more day - hopefully a calm one - and then you're done, mi Príncipe. You can do it. Te amo.”
He sees Giulio relax further, his friend sinking against his pillow and letting out a yawn. “Thank you, gioia mia,” he responds, shooting Isaac a warm smile from behind half-lidded eyes. “Ti amo.”
They end the call, and Isaac flops back onto his bed, sprawling out starfish-style. He thinks about Giulio, there in Spain, going through the same thing he did in the Giro, but without his support.
He thinks about their apartment in San Marino, the little space they have for themselves and for each other, and he's determined to give Giulio all the comfort and support he needs once they return.
But first, he has another race tomorrow.
I'll win. He promises silently. For you, mi sol.