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-What are you doing here? – was the first thing he said. Not a greeting, not even a simple “hi”. It sounded like a complaint.
-I just… - the younger thought he was looking ridiculous standing at his door like that. But, by his fortune the hall was empty.
Marco’s gaze was full with determination, but he couldn’t say no to Mario. After all, he was sure his yearning wouldn’t be done. They could only have a momentary convergence of interests and then everything would be the same. He gave a step back and he let him in.
Marco closed the door and walked until the edge of the bed in where he sat down. Mario was still standing.
-I thought you were sleeping. I couldn’t sleep – said almost in a shy way.
-Neither could I - he tried to avoid Mario’s look.
The younger finally sat next to him.
-It wasn’t how we planned it, isn’t it?
-No, it wasn’t…
-I wanted to… - Mario started, when suddenly Marco cut him off.
-What exactly are you doing here? – He tasted the sorrow.
-I just wanted to wish you good luck, for tomorrow.
-Uhm… - Marco stood up.
Mario looked at him confused; he didn’t know what exactly the blond wanted to hear. Maybe he knew it from the beginning, but instead of say another word, they kept a sorrowful silence.
Marco was doing an incredible effort to being polite, trying to conceal his mixed feelings. At that point everything was said and done between them. They even were agreed, so why he had to stand at this “agony”?
-I think you should go now, it’s late.
For one second memories came to his mind. Everything what they lived: Their victories and failures, their weekend breaks, their obsessions, their trainings, those long and warm nights having Mario in his arms, their intimacy without boundaries and completely spontaneous. He tried to come back to the present, leaving aside his deliriums.
-I think it’s the best… - Mario’s words fell like a rock into a deep well. He sighed and went out of the room.
Marco closed his eyes. It hurt. He didn’t even want to examine what had happened, because it was totally unnecessary! He didn’t need that pinch of drama over him, especially in one of the most important days of his life.
Marco turned off the lights, his will had been kidnapped.
***
He dreamt about the day they’d be rising that cup. Together, shoulder to shoulder. They’d carve their names in Dortmund’s history. Celebrate and feel the ecstasy of success. Sadly that never happened. It was like a bad dream; have to deal with the defeat and the loss.
The mind can do amazing things; one of them is reject almost in an unconscious way what we can’t stand. And that was what Marco was trying to do and the only thing he wanted was lock up in his room and forget everything. Unfortunately, seeing the sad faces of his close teammates was really hurtful. Everything was about to overflow.
Everybody was in their way to catch the bus and return to the hotel. For they, wouldn’t be a celebration.
Marco walked slowly, when he felt a hand in his shoulder.
-I’m sorry, I really sorry… - it seemed like those words were said with more than one sense.
-No, you don’t – Marco continued walking, like not paying attention to Mario – You never did.
-Hey! – The younger grabbed his left arm, he wanted to hug him tight, and he wanted to say him that everything would be alright.
Marco didn’t want to take the victim’s role although. The kind of people who need to be comfort just for things they couldn’t get. He stopped. His eyes were red, he had been crying.
-You weren’t on the field. You don’t have any idea how I felt. ANY – he got closer to his ear and whispered – Congratulations, champion.
Those last words left Mario cold and speechless. He thought he didn’t deserve a blow low like that. He had an emotional paralysis. It was a slap of their reality.
***
He turned on and off the TV millions of times. Skipped song after song in his IPod, nothing was working. If he stayed there he was going to lose his mind. He took a scarf and a knitted hat; he put his jacket on; expecting that would be enough to don’t be recognized.
He closed his door and walked a few steps when he saw Moritz coming to his way…
-Are you going out? – He scowled.
-I need fresh air – answered almost immediately.
-You know we leave tomorrow early, right?
-Don’t worry; it’ll be just an hour, perhaps two – he hid his hands in his jeans' pockets.
-What do I do, if he comes? – Moritz just let it out.
-What? – Marco reacted like if he didn't hear anything.
-Don’t act like if I were a fool. He was here yesterday at night. I think he might come to see you again.
-He won’t, OK?
-Is everything right between you? - He sounded worried.
Marco sighed deeply…
-I don’t know…
He quickly got a taxi and asked the driver what would be a nice quite place just for walk or something. The driver suggested him Regent’s Park. It wasn’t really far away, and when he arrived, thought that maybe it would have been a terrible idea. After all, he needed to wake up early, and he was bad at that. In any case, he decided to go on. He got off the taxi, and then walked through the route made for pedestrians. There were trees and flowers everywhere. He thought that place would look beautiful at daylight.
He kept walking and stopped at the lake. He lost for a second in his thoughts: how everything had changed, how difficult the last month had been and maybe it’d be even harder in the future…
A team is not just one player, and he knew Dortmund was going to need him more than anyone in any other time for the next season, even if his heart was broken. He’d be there, he would.
Suddenly he heard a familiar voice…
-It’s a nice view…
Marco was shocked and excited and it was just like in one of those cheesy movies. He didn’t want that, or did he?
He turned around and confronted Mario. The younger was standing, with a hat and a scarf, just like him. With his nose red for the cold, and the blonde was there, trying to get him away.
-I thought you were sleeping – Marco started.
-I couldn’t sleep, maybe there’s something missing.
Marco was looking at him with a fix and melancholic expression. He couldn’t avoid it. In his head there was a light and dry sound of his heartbeat. He had been attracted to many different people in his life, but those attractions come and go, love is something different.
-Maybe there’s nothing missing, maybe you have to keep looking.
Mario wasn’t sure how to react at that, so he tried to stay neutral. This had been only an extension of what had been happening all day, the last week, the last month. In this kind of situation he needed precautions.
-Do you remember what I said to you the first time?
The question took Marco by surprise, but he didn’t have to think too much about his answer, he knew every single word…
-If someone has to lose I don’t want to play*…
Back then he didn’t worry about anything or anyone. But, with the time, the fear of living under society’s eyes started growing. Society condemns and exiles. But besides all that, he knew that feelings can survive at any obstacle.
Mario shortened the distance between them.
-You came along when I needed a savior. I was counting on you*… - he reached the blond’s hand and squeezes it gently – I still.
Marco gave up. He had been unfair with Mario. Maybe with both… He was ready to lose his sanity in his arms.
Emotional redemption.
And they held the gaze one moment more than it should. In Marco’s mind, a bond was established, even though each of them will continue in theirs.
Marco finally kissed him, softly. His sweet and tender lips, strangely felt like the first time, when everybody had gone and they stayed alone on the pitch.
They kissed in a capsule stopped in time.
That kiss was an unspoken consent. There were no witnesses, just the distant lights.