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Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.
The incessant vibration against wood pulled Rodri out of his haze that required a cocktail of three different sleeping aids to pull him under. He groaned. A guttural, exhausted sound fitting for the violent intrusion that made the inside of his skull ache. His arm felt like concrete as he lashed out, knocking a glass of water aside before his fingers clamped violently around the phone on the nightstand. The screen blazed to life. A blinding white that seared his retinas. He was ready to curse whoever dared anchor him back to the waking world until he saw the name. Leo.
All irritation vanished, immediately replaced by a sharp spike of dread. Leo knew Rodri struggled with insomnia. He knew sleep was a scarce and sacred currency for Rodri. So for Leo to call at two in the morning meant something had gone terribly wrong.
Rodri swiped the screen, pressing the glass to his ear. ‘Leo? You good?’
A heavy sigh. ‘Please,’ Leo’s voice was so quiet. A breathless sound as though it would be shredded by the wind. ‘I need you. I need your help.’
The lingering sedation in Rodri’s blood battled fiercely with a sudden surge of adrenaline. The fatigue didn’t leave him, but Rodri fought to stay focused. ‘I’m here. What do you need? Where are you? How can I help?’ He bit his lips, preventing more questions from tumbling out. He needed to let Leo speak.
‘Not over the phone,’ Leo said with a wet hitch that Rodri could hear echoing against the speaker. ‘It’s not… safe. Can you meet me? Please?’
‘Yes. Anything. Anywhere. Just name it.’
‘The old marina lot. Off the Rickenbacker, right before the bridge. The abandoned bait shop by the mangroves. No one goes there at night,’ Leo explained, carefully enunciating each syllable.
Rodri’s mind spun. Rickenbacker meant he had to get there by car. Rodri knew he shouldn’t operate heavy machinery now. The pills were still in his system, dragging at his limbs and turning his coordination clumsy. Driving would be a gamble. One that Rodri knew he had to chance at the sound of Leo’s fear.
‘I’m on my way,’ Rodri announced.
‘Hurry. Please.’ The line went dead with a stark beep.
Rodri swung his legs out of bed. His feet hit the floorboards with a heavy, unelegant thud. As he stood, the room tilted violently. Tiny, incandescent sparks danced across his vision. Phantom fireflies of his exhaustion and the chemical cocktail coursing his system. But he didn’t have time to wake up fully. He put on a dark hoodie and sweatpants, his fingers fumbling stupidly with the drawstrings. Skipping the bathroom entirely, he grabbed a piece of mint chewing gum and shoved it into his mouth to mask the bitter aftertaste of his sedatives.
Down in the garage, the steering wheel felt distant beneath his palms. As if he were wearing thick gloves. When he slotted the key into ignition, another cluster of white spots bloomed in his eyes. Bright. Blinding. But he ignored them, twisting the key and forcing his foot down on the gas.
The drive through the humid Miami night was a blur of midnight smog. Rodri drove with a reckless edge. Taking corners too fast. Ignoring stop signs. Eyes wide and unblinking. His heart wild. The city fell away, replaced by the encroaching shadows of the bay and the silhouettes of overgrown mangroves.
He pulled into the cracked asphalt lot of the abandoned bait shop. The headlights washed over Leo’s silver car. Leo was already there, leaning heavily against the hood, his figure slumped.
Rodri got out and slammed his car door shut, which seemed to pull Leo out of his thoughts. Leo dashed forward. No hesitation. No reserved distance. Leo reached out and seized Rodri’s hand, gripping it with trembling strength.
‘Thanks for coming!’
But Rodri’s mind barely registered the words. His world narrowed down to that singular point of contact. The heat of Leo’s palm. The rough friction of his fingers. It was beautiful. So beautiful, Rodri’s exhausted mind had to memorize the exact pressure of Leo’s skin against his own for the billionth time.
Leo’s apology managed to shatter the spell. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t know who else to call,’ he whined meekly and retracted his hand. ‘Were you sleeping?’
Rodri lifted his gaze from Leo’s hand to peer into his captain’s eyes. Those same eyes that stole Rodri’s breath thousands of times before. Those same eyes that Rodri wished he could dream about, were it not for the insomnia that took that pleasure away from him. ‘No, I wasn’t,’ he lied automatically. ‘I’m glad you called me. What’s wrong?’
‘I need… I need…’ Leo gulped, desperate to steady his breathing. ‘I need help. I need money. I need a loan. As much as you can give me.’
Rodri blinked, the mint gum turning tasteless in his mouth. Confusion pierced through his drug-induced haze. Money? The footballer worth a billion dollars needed money? The guy who had enough sponsorships to afford not to work another day needed money? That seemed weird. Surreal. Improbable. Yet an innate desire to be Leo’s savior overrode whatever logic Rodri’s fatigued mind could conjure up.
‘Okay,’ Rodri said instantly, ignoring the frantic beating in his chest. ‘Whatever you need. I'll transfer it.
Leo froze for a heartbeat. His eyes, wide and bloodshot under the dim moonlight, searched Rodri’s face. His mouth parted slightly in disbelief.
‘Just like that? You’re not gonna ask what I need it for?’ Leo asked incredulously.
Rodri felt a prickling heat travel up his neck. His own compliance terrified Leo. And now it terrified Rodri too. What if Rodri surrendering with such immediacy would lay bare the absolute affection he had buried away for years? Rodri forced his shoulders to drop, and offered a casual shrug.
‘I feel pretty safe lending money to a guy who knows how to handle it. You certainly earn more than enough to pay me back before I can starve,’ Rodri attempted a well-meaning joke.
But the words didn’t trigger amusement in Leo. Rather something more volatile. His face contorted. His chest heaved. His hand grabbed his own hair, pulling at the strands in a desperate gesture.
‘I’m not!’ Leo cried out, his voice a shrill against the quiet lap of the bay waters. ‘I’m not good with money! And I’m not good with friends! I fucked up!’
‘Wh-what do you mean?’ Rodri’s brow furrowed.
‘There’s this guy, Valentino,’ Leo explained, bringing his hands together and squeezing his fingers rhythmically in a soothing gesture. ‘I trusted him. I thought he was my friend. I let him into my life. My accounts, and… and he took everything from me! He stole everything!’
Leo stepped closer, breathing punctuated by terrified gasps while Rodri watched helplessly.
‘He’s a monster. He’s been watching me. Following me. He stripped all my assets, all so… all so that Nella would think I ruined us. She thinks I lost everything on a bad whim. She went back to Argentina and took the kids. And Valentino… he’s just… waiting… Waiting for me to go to him for comfort.’ He gulped again. ‘I think that’s why he did it.’
Rodri stood entirely frozen, his blood turning to ice in his veins. The sudden rush of adrenaline managed to remove the sparks in his vision, but it did little to clear his racing thoughts. Valentino? Who was this guy? How come this was the first time Rodri was hearing about him? How come Leo never mentioned him to anyone before? Didn’t Leo trust Rodri enough to tell him about his friends? Didn’t Leo trust Rodri enough to tell him about having a stalker? Didn’t Leo trust Rodri enough to let Rodri help him?
Emboldened by the horror of Leo’s words, Rodri reacted on impulse. He moved to bridge the gap between them, hoping to cradle Leo against his chest. As if that would shield Leo from the beast that was tearing his life apart. But the moment Leo registered movement, his entire body jerked backwards, eyes widening in feral panic.
Rodri stopped mid-step. The rejection fucking stung. But he had already mastered a carefree façade meant to hide his devotion to the man in front of him. He wasn’t caught off guard. Instead, Rodri lifted a hand in an eerily fluid motion, and began scratching his head nonchalantly as if that had been his intention all along.
‘What’s the plan then, Leo?’ Rodri asked, keeping his voice carefully leveled. ‘What do you want to do now?’ He brought his hand to rest in the pocket of his sweatpants.
‘I need that money for a lawyer,’ Leo pleaded with wide, glassy eyes. ‘A good one. A fucking ruthless one.’ He kept wringing his hands, his knuckles turning a bloodless white. ‘I have to sue him. For damages, for… I just want my life back. I want my family back. I don’t want to live in fear anymore.’
Rodri looked into Leo’s eyes, and the vignette of hesitation laid itself out in high-definition. Leo was holding something back. Leo wasn’t totally upfront. And Rodri wanted nothing more than to be the harbor in which Leo could dock. Worries and woes and all. But the defensive tightness in Leo’s jaw brought about a wave of protective tenderness. Prying that information out of Leo would be an act of violence, and Rodri refused to be the man that would break Leo.
‘You’ll have the money before sunrise,’ Rodri promised, swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth. He took a shallow breath, the mint gum cooling the back of his throat. ‘Do you need help with anything else? Right now? Anything at all.’
Leo paused, his gaze drifting towatf the dark, lapping waves of the bay. He chewed his lower lip. A nervous habit that made Rodri’s chest ache.
‘I… I might need to disappear for a few days,’ Leo finally said. ‘Just until I get my shit together and come up with a plan. I can’t stay here. I can’t risk Valentino catching up to what I’m doing. Can you talk to Masche and David?’ Leo looked back at Rodri, his eyes pleading.
‘Of course,’ Rodri answered immediately. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll take care of things with the club.’
‘And…’ Leo sighed. ‘Nella left Hulk behind. He’s old and slow, so I can’t risk carrying him around. Could you look after him for a bit?’
That massive mastiff would indeed make it difficult to keep a stalker at bay. But Rodri’s mind instantly flashed back to his own house, and the tiny dog Tini had left with him. That little piece of shit was territorial, and Rodri would definitely have his hands full with both dogs. But he couldn’t say no to Leo. If Leo would ask for the moon, Rodri would tear the skies apart to deliver it.
‘Of course,’ Rodri accepted without an ounce of hesitation in his voice. ‘Don’t worry about him. I’ll make sure he’s well taken care of.’
A fragile smile broke across Leo’s face. And Rodri couldn’t peel his eyes away from the beautiful sight that made the surrounding darkness pale and insignificant.
‘Thank you. Really,’ Leo wheezed. ‘I’m planning to leave tonight, and I feel better knowing…’
‘I can take him now,’ Rodri interrupted, voice rising ever so slightly with unexpected panic.
Panic that Leo would disappear. Panic that Leo would be alone. Panic that Leo would have to face a monster alone.
The relief on Leo’s face fractured only for a split second before a warm, thankful smile graced his lips. ‘Sure. I’d appreciate it.’ He turned toward his car. ‘Follow me, will you?’
The drive to Leo’s sprawling estate in Fort Lauderdale had Rodri primarily focusing on Leo’s tail lights to stop his thoughts from racing. To stop the prevalent fear that he’d be alone at Inter for a while. To stop the suffocating dread that Leo might actually retire from football just to focus on the lawsuit and this fucking Valentino guy that was stealing Leo away from him.
When they arrived, the massive house felt cold. Like it hadn’t been lived in for a while. It was so different from how Rodri remembered it. There was no Mateo giggling. There was no Thiago playing the ball. There was no Ciro following Leo anywhere. There was no Antonella to freely touch the man Rodri yearned for.
Leo unlocked the front door with mechanical gestures and stepped inside, gesturing vaguely toward the glass double doors at the back. Through the panes, Rodri could see the large shape of Hulk sleeping soundly on the patio couch. The plan was laid out. Take Hulk. Go back home. Keep Hulk away from that little devil. Try to sleep again. But Rodri needed more of Leo. He needed to breathe the same air as Leo for just a few moments longer. Just enough to keep the memory of Leo before he would vanish from his life. So when Leo turned to head up the grand staircase, Rodri followed silently in his shadow. Like a planet tethered to its sun.
In the master bedroom, Leo pulled a leather suitcase onto the bed and began throwing clothes inside. Rodri leaned against the doorframe, his eyes tracking Leo’s every movement with a burning intensity. He watched the beautiful curve of Leo’s back as he bent over a drawer, and wondered if that was how Leo’s back arched like that when he fucked Antonella. He could almost picture Leo’s back arching like that if he ever were to fuck Rodri.
‘Where are you going to stay?’ Rodri asked, his voice low.
‘A hotel. Somewhere private,’ Leo replied evasively, his eyes not looking up from a pair of trousers his hands smoothed down. The same hands Rodri prayed would press against his chest.
‘What about your family?’ Rodri pressed, stepping slightly into the room. ‘Your parents? Your siblings? Shouldn’t they be here to help you? Or talk to Nella?’
‘No!’ Leo yelped, a sharp edge cutting through his usually soft-spoken demeanor. He shoved a stack of shirts into the case with disproportional frustration. ‘I don’t want to involve them. Not while this… this fucker’s on my tracks. It’s safer if they don’t know where I am.’
‘How about the police?’ Rodri pondered, his chest tightening at the thought of Leo facing this burden alone. ‘You could get a restraining order. Keep this guy away instead of you leaving.’
Leo let out a bitter laugh as he reached for a Dopp kit. ‘A restraining order? That’s just a fucking piece of paper. It won’t do shit.’
‘Then why not go to the media?’ Rodri suggested, increasingly desperate not to lose Leo. ‘Put the fucker on blast. Your fans would go wild to protect you if you expose him.’
Leo grimaced, his face contorting in revulsion. He slammed the suitcase shut and latched the buckles. ‘No. Giving him the media spotlight just offers him more attention than he deserves. I won’t feed into his sickness.’
Leo lifted the heavy suitcase off the bed. The finality of the movement stole Rodri’s breath. He felt cold all of a sudden despite Leo not turning on the AC. He was exhausted. He was desperate. And he would be without Leo.
‘I’ll miss you,’ Rodri murmured, the confession slipping out before he could reel the words back in. ‘Can we… uhm, can we keep in touch? Just text at least? So that I know you’re safe.’
Leo stopped in his tracks. He eyed Rodri with an expression of profound weariness and caution. And something else. Something Rodri had never seen before in Leo. Regret? Bitterness? Callousness?
‘It’s better if we don’t,’ Leo finally said. ‘At least for a few days. It’s… for your own safety,’ he finished with a small smile.
Rodri wasn’t pleased with the answer. He watched helplessly as Leo gripped the handle of his suitcase and walked towards the door. Rodri stood perplexed. That was it? Leo was just… going? Not securing valuables? Not locking anything up? Not taking anything private like family pictures with him? How did Leo just step past him without as much as a second glance?
‘Leo, wait!’ Rodri called out. ‘Aren’t you going to lock up?’ He gestured vaguely in the dark, empty master suite. ‘What if he comes here?’
Leo stopped one step short of the doorframe, looking back over his shoulder. The look in his eyes was vacant. Completely hollowed out.
‘There’s no need,’ Leo admitted softly. ‘I’ve already lost everything precious to me because of him. There’s nothing left in this house for him to take.’
With a faint nod, Leo turned and descended the stairs. A moment later, the heavy front door slammed shut. Rodri was left completely alone in the center of Leo’s bedroom. Rodri breathed. Heavily at first. Then normally as the initial shock faded, giving way to an unexplainable pull. A dark pull. A forbidden one. Yet such a promising one. It was a perverse gravity, and Rodri knew it. He knew it was an intrusion. A violation of the sanctuary Leo had just abandoned. But maybe Rodri’s sleep-deprived mind could no longer calculate boundaries. Still chewing the rubbery wad of mint gum, his eyes drifted towards the king-sized bed. It was neatly made.
Rodri’s gaze flicked between the two nightstands. The one on the left was crowded with sleek, pastel bottles. Feminine… lotions? Serums? Something that likely belonged to Antonella either way. The right side held only a minimalist lamp and a water bottle. Leo’s side.
Rodri moved toward it, his steps slow and careful. He sank to his knees beside the mattress, his hands reaching out to touch the dark duvet. He stroked the fabric with a tender slowness. One befitting of an object that had enveloped Leo’s body. One that had had the heat of Leo’s skin radiate into the fibers just hours ago. Rodri’s fingers crawled upward, mapping the bed until they rested on Leo’s pillow. He smoothed his palm over the cotton. The cotton that held Leo’s head. The cotton that witnessed Leo’s dreams.
‘I would have kept you safe,’ Rodri whispered into the empty room. ‘If you had just told me… I would burn the world down before I let anyone harm you.’
A manic rationale took hold of Rodri’s mind, sweeping away his lingering caution and melting away his guilt. Leo had abandoned this place. Leo had said it himself. There was nothing precious left here. If the house was a hollow shell, then it belonged to this night. It belonged to Rodri.
Slowly, Rodri stood up and gripped the edge of the duvet. He pulled it back just enough to slide himself onto the mattress, slipping into the exact space Leo occupied at night. He lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. The faint scent of Leo’s cologne still lingered. Something woody. Something that drove Rodri rabid. Something that made Rodri’s head spin.
‘I’ve loved you for so long, Leo,’ Rodri mumbled to the shadows above, an unblinking smile carving itself onto his lips. ‘Years. Every day. It’s always been you.’
Wanting to press himself deeper into Leo’s phantom presence, Rodri rolled onto his right side, bringing his face closer to the headboard. As he shifted his weight, his forearms struck something solid beneath the fabric. A rectangular hardness hidden directly under Leo’s pillow.
Rodri lifted himself up on one elbow, his brow furrowing as he slipped his hand beneath the cotton casing. His fingers closed around something reminiscent of paper. He pulled it out into the moonlight. It was a notebook. Rodri cracked it open and his smile widened. It was so indicative of Leo’s old-fashioned personality to keep a physical journal rather than trusting his thoughts to a digital app.
Curiosity overpowered any remaining restraint. Rodri strained his eyes against the dark as he leafed through the pages. The early entries were dense with Leo’s sloppy handwriting. Musings on his games. Complaints about Masche and various squadmates. Anxious paragraphs about fights with Antonella and keeping up with Thiago’s schedule. Rodri skimmed past them, searching for a trace of himself, until his thumb caught on a page where the handwriting grew frantic and crowded.
It was an entry detailing the stalker.
Woke up around 3:00, and saw the shadow of the trees. I could see him from the balcony. I ran downstairs. His face was practically glued to the windowpane. He was staring through the glass. His eyes seemed vacant. He didn’t even run when I turned on the lights. He just stood there. Watching me.
Rodri’s blood ran cold as he turned the page.
Nella went downstair to the kitchen in the middle of the night to get some water. She screamed. I ran down with the golf club. He was standing in the backyard by the pool. Hulk is used to him and didn’t even bark. But he just had this creepy smile on his face. Nella is losing her mind.
Rodri soon found another entry full of marital despair.
Nella packed the kids’ bags last night. We screamed at each other for hours. Ciro cried. She thinks I’m a coward. She says I’m not doing enough to keep our family safe from him. She thinks I’m letting him terrorize us just because he’s my friend. I don’t know what I can do.
Rodri kept reading, his fingers trembling as he turned the pages.
I woke up again to those same vacant, wimpy eyes. Those same bushy brows and those same eyebrow cuts and that same scruffy beard. And that same fucking lovey-dovey look he gives me through the window. Like he owns me.
Rodri blinked, unable to push a strange sensation away. That of… No. The description felt eerily familiar but it had to be a bizarre coincidence. He flipped the page, his breath rattling in his throat.
He just stands there. Looming. Like he wants to hold the fact that he’s taller than me over me.
Rodri’s throat went dry. He turned another page.
It’s so weird that he never says anything. He just stares with wide eyes. But I expect to hear Lunfardo slang coming out of his mouth any night now.
The notebook slipped from Rodri’s hands. The room tilted on its axis. This wasn’t Valentino. This was… him. Leo was describing him.
Rodri began to hyperventilate, the air coming in short gasps that made his head spin. This was impossible! Rodri loved Leo with all his heart, but he would never do something like that. He had never driven to Leo’s house uninvited in the middle of the night. He had never peered through the windows. He had never terrorized Antonella. He had been asleep in his bed, drowned in the haze of his insomnia medication.
Hadn’t he?
Panic. Panic flared. Panic surged through his veins. In a manic frenzy, Rodri pulled his phone from his pocket, his fingers shaking as he tapped on Leo’s name.
It rang. And rang. And rang.
‘Come on, come on,’ Rodri whimpered.
It went to voicemail. He redialed immediately, his teeth chattering against the phone.
On the fourth ring, the line clicked open. Leo answered.
‘Is Hulk trouble?’ Leo asked, his voice sounding infinitely weary.
‘Leo… Leo, listen to me,’ Rodri began, panic ripping through any sensible thought. ‘It’s a mistake. This is all just a mistake. I would never hurt you. You know me. I wouldn’t hurt you. You’re my best friend, and I…’
‘Shh,’ Leo interrupted smoothly. ‘I don’t understand what has you so riled up. If Hulk is too much of a headache, I can find…’
‘Hulk is not the problem here!’ Rodri yelled into the receiver hysterically.
The line went completely quiet. Leo shut up.
Rodri swallowed the lump in his throat, tears prickling his eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry for shouting. Please,’ he sounded choked. ‘Can we just talk? Face to face? Now? Please.’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Leo muttered softly.
‘Please, Leo. Please. I’m begging you,’ Rodri turned desperate. ‘Just a few minutes. I won’t take long. I promise.’
A heavy silence stretched over the line. Rodri could only hear the faint rustle of the night on Leo’s end.
‘Fine,’ Leo said after an agonizingly long while with a sigh. ‘Meet me at the neon parking lot of the River Inn. On the south side of the river. Don’t go inside.’
‘I’m on my way.’
Rodri threw his phone into his pocket, vaulted out of the bed, and sprinted down the stairs. He burst through the front door, leaving Hulk sleeping peacefully in the patio, completely forgotten.
The drive was one of the stupidest things Rodri has ever done. He ignored every traffic sign. He blew through red lights. He shattered speed limits. His car tore through the humid Miami streets like a fucking missile. He arrived at the run-down motel in minutes.
Leo was already there, standing under the flickering neon sign of the parking lot. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and he was pacing in small circles. Rodri slammed his car door and dashed toward him. But as soon as Rodri breached Leo’s personal space, Leo’s shoulders tensed almost theatrically, and he took a sharp step backwards.
The rejection made Rodri’s world crash around him. But he forced himself to stay grounded. He had to.
‘What do you want?’ Leo barked, his jaw set in a hard line.
Rodri looked at Leo’s face and realized there was no way to spin a lie. How could he possibly liken Leo’s terrifying stalker to himself naturally? A hypothetical question? A joke? No. It wouldn’t work. The truth was the only option he had left.
‘I found your diary,’ Rodri blurted out.
Leo nodded slowly, no surprise visible on his features. ‘I expected you to,’ he retorted monotonously.
Rodri’s head spun. ‘Did you… did you leave it as a trap for me?’
‘It wouldn't have been much of a trap if you were innocent,’ Leo shrugged, his tone cold.
The words broke something inside Rodri. The weight of his love collapsed under the accusation. With a desperate cry, Rodri dropped loudly to his knees on the asphalt. He reached out and grabbed Leo’s hands, gripping them and burying his face against Leo’s knuckles.
‘Leo, please! You have to understand! I didn’t do it!’ Rodri begged, his tears breaking free, hot, and fast down his cheeks. ‘I swear to you! I’d never hurt you or your family! I’d remember if I ever did something that awful to you!’
‘Of course you’d say that now,’ Leo scoffed.
‘No!’ Rodri insisted frantically. ‘I wouldn’t! I wouldn’t hurt you! I love you. I loved you for years. I love you, Leo! ’
‘I don’t.’
The words brought about a shameful ache in Rodri’s stomach. He expected as much. He knew as much. But it still hurt. He loved Leo with all his heart. But Leo loving him back was a fantasy. No. It was a sacrilegious thought. For Leo to look at Rodri with desire would mean Leo’s perfect judgement had failed. The mind that so brilliantly studied every movement on the pitch had failed. The brain perfectly calibrated to peak athletic performance had been corrupted. The only way to love Leo was to keep Leo safe from the wreckage that was Rodri.
‘I don’t blame you. If I were you, I wouldn’t love me neither,’ the words tore from Rodri’s throat. Truthfully. Painfully. Nakedly.
Leo tensed up, his hands freezing in Rodri’s grasp. But he didn’t flinch away this time. He stood his ground. He looked down at Rodri, his expression twisting into one of absolute disgust.
‘Then what do you want from me?’ Leo growled.
‘Nothing!’ Rodri yelped. ‘I never did it! I wouldn’t hurt you! I wouldn’t hurt your family! I wouldn’t… It’s not me!’
Leo groaned. ‘Tonight was your last chance,’ he said, his voice dropping into a merciless register that cut through Rodri’s hysteria. ‘It was your last chance to make things right. All you had to do was let me go. All you had to do was leave me alone. But you had to poke around. You had to come after me. And that’s all I need to know that you’ll never stop.’
‘Wh-what?’
Just then, the heavy thud of footsteps echoed on the asphalt behind Rodri. He heard them, but didn’t care to turn around. His entire universe had shrunken to Leo. He needed to make Leo understand. He needed Leo to stop looking at him like he was the devil. Rodri kept crying as his strength left him. He whimpered pathetically, dropping further down and cradling Leo’s knees for support.
From behind Rodri, two uniformed policemen appeared.
‘Step away from him, sir. Hands where we can see them,’ one of them commanded.
Before Rodri could even translate the words in his head, strong, unforgiven hands clamped around his hands, prying his fingers off Leo’s hands with brutal efficiency. They hauled Rodri to his feet, forcing his arms behind his back. The metal handcuffs clicked shut as one of the officers began reading Rodri’s rights. They dragged him away toward the flashing blue lights of the cruiser. Weeping. Disoriented. Broken. Through the veil of tears, he looked back at Leo.
Leo was still standing under the buzzing neon. He no longer looked disgusted, but eerily calm. Serene even. Slowly, Leo raised a single hand, his fingers fluttering in a rhythmic wave, silently bidding Rodri goodbye.
That night was merely a the fracture that allowed the rest of Rodri’s world to completely splinter apart. In the weeks that followed, the nightmare kept consuming his reality. Leo was merciless. A sweeping restraining order was slapped down on Rodri, followed immediately by a lawsuit for harassment and emotional distress. The scandal hit the digital world like a shockwave. The backlash was severe. Rodri’s contract with Inter Miami was annulled. Most big clubs were reluctant to sign a liability like him. The title of a predatory stalker followed Rodri, hemorrhaging opportunities from him. Sponsors severed ties in rapid succession. Rodri’s bank accounts looked as barren as his future.
Throughout it all, Rodri pleaded innocent. He screamed his innocence into the void. Until the prosecution laid out the digital proof from his own phone. The GPS data was absolute. It mapped the exact coordinates, proving beyond the shadow of a doubt that Rodri had been standing in Leo’s backyard. Night after night after night. All while Rodri was convinced he was peacefully under the influence of his insomnia medication. But Leo had been telling the truth all along.
Yet Rodri’s conscious mind held no such data. No such images. No such memories. Confounded by the psychological chasm, a court-appointed forensic psychologist intervened, ultimately steering the case toward a specialized medical clinic. The sleep specialist demanded a brutal thirty-six-hour sleep deprivation protocol before the trial’s diagnostic phase. For Rodri, those thirty-six hours were pure torture. Every nerve ending felt raw. His chest felt tight. His eyes burned. His head spun with every breath. When they finally strapped him to the video-polysomnography machine, Rodri fell into a forced slumber.
The machine caught what the waking mind couldn’t. In deep slow-wave sleep, Rodri’s brain misfired. The video captured him sitting up, eyes wide and vacant. Just like Leo had said. He walked the floor of the lab while the monitors proved his conscious mind was dead to the world. Walking somnambulism. Parasomnia. Rodri hadn’t been lying either. He truly had never known that his subconscious mind, driven by an obsessive fixation, had been piloting his body through the Miami streets to worship at the altar of Leo’s home.
Though the trial dragged on like a slow death, the medical diagnosis became his salvation. A jury could not convict a ghost. Rodri was eventually found not guilty of criminal intent. A verdict that left Leo’s face set in a tight grimace of absolute dismay. But freedom brought no peace. The trial had left Rodri a hollowed-out shell. The insomnia remained a cruel companion, but Rodri refused his sleeping pills, turning instead to the numbing of alcohol. He fell into depression. Broken, broke, and universally reviled online, Rodri fled Miami, and retreated to Buenos Aires. To Racing Club, his boyhood club. It was the only place where he could lick his wounds and attempt the impossible task of rebuilding his life from ash.
His parents opened their door to him, offering unconditional support. Tini left him. But Rodri’s heart remained a treacherous thing. It refused to learn. It refused to heal. Even after the public execution of his character. Even after the disgust he had seen carved into Leo’s features. The unblinking fire of his obsession refused to be snuffed out. The rest of the universe still looked pale and featureless compared to the memory of Leo’s touch.
Late one evening, lying in the twin bed of his childhood room at his parents’ house, Rodri stared at his phone, the warmth of bourbon humming in his veins. He scrolled past the static of his dead, followerless Instagram, and tapped on a news article that caught his eyes.
There it was. A small headline. Divorce Finalized for Football Superstar, Lionel Messi. Rodri stared at the text. A wide smile slowly carved itself into his features. Leo was free. The marriage that had weighed him down was gone. Rodri clutched his phone tightly against his chest, feeling dizzy. He closed his eyes, imagining the gentle wave of Leo’s hand.
‘In another life,’ Rodri whispered into the dark safety of the room. ‘In another life, Leo… it would have been us.’