druga strana

chapter seventyfive - estímulo ( ; encouragement)

brahims pov

9:24 am

i was kneeling down, after almost making a full split, simply because i was so focused on lucas and the empty goal in front of him.

"that's it for now chicos! off to break now.", zidane shouted, after lucas perfectly placed the ball into the net.

"hey!", i shouted over to him and lifted my hand to give him a high five. thank god he raised his to put his hand onto the palm of mine. that was our usual celebration when we scored. luqui and i were the kings of mini field matches, not trying to brag but, we just worked out great. and well, the goal score showed how well we worked out as an attacking duo; it was 9 - 3 for our team.

lucas and i were holding eachother while walking down to the main gate: "sorry for earlier, lulu. i didn't mean- to-", i rubbed my hands and looked around me: "hey guys?!", i shouted, to attract the attention of every squad member. i tried to lead them all in a pile.

"oh, no- what's going on here?", marcelo was the last one to join the circle that was formed around me.

everyone was exhausted, out of breath, sweaty, probably annoyed.

i was holding the match football in my hands. the coach and the trainers passed us. which i was pretty thankful for.

"i just wanted to say sorry for not attending the last training in madrid. i was not feeling like i could play as good as i wanted. i'm sorry for influencing the training before that by my horrible behaviour. towards you, luka. and towards you, sergio. same for you lucas. same for you julian. i'm sorry.", when i noticed that sergio reguilon and varane were whispering and joking about something, i kicked the ball into their direction, only aiming for their foot though, cause we couldn't afford injuries of any kind.

"there has been going on a lot in my personal life and i didn't feel like i could overcome that stress and that fear of dissapointing you, the coach, the president, the fans. that also led to me practising almost every day, almost OVERtraining myself. i just-"

i noticed how sergio kept on wiping his forehead cause he was sweating so much. marcelo and modric were covering their eyes from the sun, ceballos looked down to his feet, julian waddled around, looking down to his phone. keylor was taking off his gloves, regui was kneeling down to tie his shoes, carvajal was starring at ceballos, kroos was stretching his leg, the other lads eyes were on me.

"anyways, i- don't want to make it unendurably long. just sorry. i hope you can accept my apology and i hope you still trust me. you can always rely on me. i know i can rely on you. especially tonight. thank you guys.", i ended my speech by clapping my hands once and then opening them again, standing there, very awkwardly waiting for a response.

"it's alright, hermano.", sergio put his hand on my shoulder, "isn't it?", he turned around and faced the squad, which then started to clap. everyone nodded along. ceballos was the only one already heading towards the gate, everybody else was approaching me. and.. my back started hurting from all the pats i received. but i was thankful for that great response from the team."don't even worry, brahino. don't worry about that. we all were there. heads up.", kroos went in for a hug, "don't let the pressure get to you. we see that you're doing your best."

"and we know to appreciate that.", keylor praised.

i nodded and looked up to both of them, then bashfully tilted my head to the side and smirked: "come on guys, let's go now. let's go."

-

casemiro and i were joking while walking down the corridor towards the dressing rooms. julian was gone all of the sudden, i heard voices come out of the changing rooms and the shower, but i couldn't quite find his funny sounding spanish beneath all those voices.

i only heard zidane, chatting with the trainers next to him while walking down the hallway in front of us. and all of the sudden, when the trainers walked around the corner, he turned around: "diaz, can i- can i talk to you after you're ready? meet me at the building e in a couple of minutes, please."

"yea. yea. yea, coach, sure.", i mumbled and peaked up to casemiro.

"don't worry bro, by now he should start planning the starting line-up, eh?", he pinched me in the shoulder, and i just nervously laughed it off.


*POV CHANGE*

julians pov

9:31 am

i straight up headed towards the main entrance and feared, that fans were waiting there. it seemed to rain soon, so i just hoped that they would stand underneath the roof, if there even were any. i mean, i wouldn't mind signing autographs, taking pictures, or anything of that sort. i love making fans happy. but zidane told us not to interact with them before the big match. i never understood why, but we just shouldn't.

i saw nada waiting outside from the distance, and as much as i didn't want her to get wet from the rain, i couldn't get myself to sprint the slightiest bit anymore.

"guten morgen, guten morgen! (good morning, good morning!)", i opened the door with a big smile on my face. nada jokinly rolled her eyes on me.

"you didn't bring him?"

"he might be showering right now, i don't know if you- would- you know- go in there-", i started laughing.

"no, nah.", nada had to chuckle herself, "nice offer though."

"not a lot of girls would say no to that, i mean-", i winked, but got interrupted:

"ok, julian, but- jokes aside, what's going on?"

i took a deep breath, looked around us and then dragged nada into the nursing room. i can tell by the look on her face that she was uncomfortable, since you could only hear the white noise of the weird airconditioner when i closed the heavy, old, squeeking metal door behind me.

"uhhhh-?", nada crossed her arms and stepped away from me and laughed.

i giggled at her worried face: "i don't want him to hear me. listen- you got- you got some work to do. i would help you, but i don't think it's as easy for me. i can lift him up football-wise but. we gotta push him. he's worried about tonight, and that worrying won't let him end up in the line-up. i want him to start. i want him to start this fucking match tonight, i'll prefer him over myself."

nada was suprised, but gave me a very hopeful look.

"i don't know how he's been acting around you, but everytime we're distant from the other team mates, he tells me how scared he is and is literally loosing it every time."

nad shrugged: "he's been worried all along, he tells me that all the time. i thought it's normal, something to expect from a newcomer. i mean especially today.."

"yea, nada, it is but- not- not in that way, not in his position. of course it's scary. we are all scared. i am too. but brahim shows it on the pitch. it's not that he isn't doing his job. it's just that he focuses on everything but himself. he came into training, without having breakfest. he almost fucking fainted. what if zizou saw that, man?"

nada stared at the ground for some time, while i looked through the milky glass of the small window behind her. i saw zizou and the other players, already preparing for the second round of training.

"look. zizou wants a talk with him, in like 15 minutes. i don't know about what, and i'm worried that he will talk to him about not being mad for not starting. the second round of training starts in 30 minutes. you go, try to catch him on his way to building c. you'll see it the second you step out of the door. try to talk to him, whatever you say. as long as he sees you're there.. - he'll wing it. okay?"

nada nodded along, but then shrugged:"what in the world should i tell him?"

"anything. just don't try to bring his worrying into it."

with her head down, nad slowly slendered towards the door, already grabbed the knob, but then reached for something in her bag:

"hey jule? .. do you know- a player called francesco gento- by any chance?"