Hunter's POV
Mapi had sat me up, I almost feared to look at Jill for the mess I'd created hadn't only hurt me. My fingers no longer clung to the fabric of Jill's hoodie, that thought terrified me, and though I felt she wouldn't walk out now, I felt she'd leave soon as she heard everything I'd kept from her; which was an entirely other life.
I looked at my sister, Alexia's eyes softened, I hated her pitying me, "I want to talk to Jill alone," I whispered.
I knew that I had to tell Jill, I knew she wouldn't leave but the tiny voice in the back of my head told me she would. But after everything she'd seen today, Jill needed to know and I felt like I wanted her to know, thought telling her sounded painful.
Alexia looked unsure, I ushered her over to me. She leaned down so I could whisper in her ear without Jill hearing.
"I want to tell her, I want to do it in private though."
Alexia now whispered in my ear, it was strange to hear something so quiet after the last hours had been so horrifyingly loud, "And then we'll talk afterwards?"
I nodded.
Alexia pulled away and gulped, we both knew that she couldn't deny my plea. "Mapi, Ona, let's go and get a coffee from the café and give these two some space."
Both of them looked confused but nonetheless quietly followed Alexia out of the room.
I let out a shaky breath, knowing that now was the time I had to trust Jill more than ever.
I looked up at her, Jill searched my eyes for answers, taking ahold of my hand as the knot in my chest settled slightly. "You can tell me Hunter," She told me gently. That's what I loved about Jill, she never pushed.
Looking at Jill, I remembered the very first time we'd spoken on the curb outside the pub. The truth was, I never expected to get so attached to her, or anyone for that matter, but this feeling has stumbled upon me and it was like a dream but I feared the dream could one day come to and end. I didn't know if I could go through reality again.
I felt the world settle around me, everything had turned to silence, meaning I had no excuses anymore. For a second I wondered where I could possibly begin, though I saw no place other than right at the begining, "I first came to London when I was ten, it was just a visit and I never planned to move though my visits became more frequent as things begun in Barcelona. I moved when I was thirteen, I didn't plan on ever going back to Spain but I had to; every holiday I'd visit Barcelona, Alexia didn't even know I was back in Spain. I practically lived inbetween the two countries until I was seventeen."
Jill looked confused, "why didn't you tell me this before?"
I shook my head, "I didn't really tell anyone. Everyone in England thought I went to Alexia's and most people in Spain thought I stayed in England."
"I don't understand," Jill said softly, I could see her trying to learn but she was desperately lost right now, "Why wouldn't you tell them the truth?"
I sighed, knowing that I couldn't run from the truth anymore because it always caught up to me. It would catch up to me in Barcelona. It would catch up to me in London. It would catch up to me in France. I could move to mars and it would still probably find me there, there were shackles tying me to the past and the key couldn't be found; I was forever going to be stuck.
My eyes slowly trailed up to Jill's face, I saw the helplessness she felt as I'd left her in the dark but I wasn't going to do that anymore. I couldn't let myself do that anymore. I took a long sigh, preparing myself to recount everything that had destroyed me back then and was still beating me down now.
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set in the past
TW: drugs, drinking, abuse
I remember the first time I saw him, it was like my entire world changed in the most naively adolescent way possible.
Maya and I had been best friends since the first day of school, we were completely inseparable and that was how it was always supposed to stay.
As young kids it was all just fun, we'd kick a football about for days on end and never spend a moment apart in school. Growing up, Maya was the person I imagined always being by my side, Alexia and weren't so close at the time and my family were never fair on me, so my entire world revolved around this friendship.
Maya was the sort of person who everyone loved, the girl was like a breath of fresh air and the fluffiest clouds in the sky. She wanted to grow up and be a photographer who travelled the world and promised to follow me wherever I went.
And she did exactly that. And then it killed her.
When we were twelve, Maya's mother got remarried. She married a business man from the city who had a son three years older than us.
That son was called Mateo.
There was one day that I remembered so distinctly. Maya and I were making pasta in her kitchen then Mateo and three of his friends walked in.
"Hola Maya y chica bonita allí, ven con nosotros esta noche? (Hey Maya and pretty girl there, come with us tonight?)" he strode in.
I was thirteen. He was sixteen.
I looked at Maya, we both had little smiles on our faces as we quickly nodded. Maya went to reply, she'd liked one of his friends for months, but I cut her off, knowing her response would have been one of an excitable thirteen year old girl; I was far too eager to grow up. "A dónde vamos entonces? (Where are we going then?)"
That night Mateo put his arm around my shoulder and smiled at me, I was smitten from the get go. I was young, I'd yet to be hurt and I fell head first in love for that boy like putty in his hands.
Maya and I began hanging around with his friends every day after school, it began with sitting at the skate park with a few beers and a lot of laughter.
Mateo was kind to me, he'd pick me up from training and make sure I ate. He was the sort of boy from the movies, who'd always hold your hand and tell you everything you wanted to hear. It felt too good to be true, but it was real for a month or two before it wasn't.
One thing led to another and Mateo and his friends ended up in a gang, a really nasty gang full of drugs, alcohol and violence. And even with being in the Barca academy, something about the idea of danger dragged me in even further. Maya was much more hesitant to stick around the group but I was the one to drag her along assuring her that 'it's just teenage fun'.
I honestly thought nothing would get out of hand, I thought I could keep up with my football and stay with Mateo.
I grew more and more dependent on Mateo, thinking he was the reason for my happiness and everything good that came my way. Though the more I was pulled into his antics, the less good came my way. It was as if, his mind took over my own; he'd call me and I'm come running, he'd pass me a joint and I'd smoke it. I'd do anything he wanted because I was so stupidly convinced that it was what I wanted too.
One night Alexia caught me sneaking into the house barely able to function, my pupils all dilated and words no more than a slur. Even in the state of being half conscious, I remember the shock on her face as it turned into panic. She took me up to her room and cleaned me up, I told her everything, then I woke up the next morning and she'd booked my flights to London, arranged that I'd move in with my grandparents and get away from everything.
Alexia was a problem solver, she said she couldn't sit by and do nothing when I was destroying my chance of a future.
If Barcelona got any whiff of the drug use, I'd have been out. I was thirteen and living the life of a deadbeat drug addict. So I agreed with Lex, I had to get out so I left the next day and thought I'd never look back.
I felt awful for leaving Maya behind but I didn't have a choice, Alexia wouldn't let me say goodbye and I was in no place to argue. Alexia had been right; it was my entire future on the line.
Of course I came to London and soon after joined Arsenal, I made a home for myself in England but a few months later, I got a call and it was from Maya, Alexia had given her my number it seemed, Mateo was in the hospital. He told me he'd been attacked, I knew he'd probably been the one to throw the first punch. But the idea of him lying there alone - I couldn't deal with it so on the first break, I went back to Barcelona and visited him.
He hadn't asked me to come, but I think he knew that if Maya called, I'd come running like I always had because I loved him. I really did.
And then the visits begun again. Once I had my foot back in the door, I wouldn't let it slip through the fear of loosing them all; believe it or not those boys and Maya meant everything to me. I knew that Maya had no way out, her and Mateo were family and that meant she couldn't run like I did.
Mateo recovered, it took months but he was eventually fine to my relief but that fear of loosing people I loved was then deeply engrained into me. I hated myself for leaving, I should've been by his side, I should've been there to stop the fight, I should've been the person in the ambulance with him. I knew I couldn't move back to Barcelona, my future was in London, but the future that I'd come to believe I wanted was still in Spain, in the hands of that boy and my best friend.
So every opportunity to get away, I did. If there was a long weekend, I'd fly to Spain. In the holidays, I'd fly to Spain. In the off season I'd fly to Spain. And Alexia knew nothing about it.
Something about that life had a thrill I didn't know how to live without. I loved running around through the night, laughing hysterically with Maya when the boys almost got caught, holding onto Mateo's hand and knowing he wouldn't let go. I'd always been someone looking to live on the edge and I found that within the group we'd been adopted by.
I was never forced to stay, I could've flown to London and never looked back but it was my choice to return. I know I should regret that decision but part of me, even now, doesn't; though there was a point when I should've drawn a line and gotten myself and Maya out. That was my regret.
When I was fifteen, I picked up an ankle injury and somehow convinced the Arsenal staff to let me complete my rehabilitation in Barcelona. I arrived and saw that the boys found themselves getting into harder drugs. I enjoyed the weed and the mushrooms because they did make things more fun but I saw Mateo go down the darker route of cocaine and it really changed him, it really changed our relationship.
Maya never touched anything like it, she was known for smoking a spliff or two but she'd wouldn't touch anything more because she still had a dream to fulfil. I was still so certain that she would travel the world through the lens of her camera and go on to raise a family and have the life she'd always dreamed of.
So I was in Spain for about six months, out of football and living in the apartment which all of the boys shared. I saw everything getting darker, I remember I'd wake in the night to the sound of powder being snorted and just watch the shadows on the walls as a shiver snuck up my spine.
Mateo had always vowed to protect me and he had done that for two years, never letting anyone even look in my direction. I was safe in the most hostile environments because people knew I was Mateo's, but before I'd always felt like a partner but over time I'd turned into more of a pet. Mateo still protected me from everything and everyone... except from himself.
Mateo turned violent, at first it was a shocking thing that very rarely happened. He'd beg for my forgiveness and I'd give it to him because he was all I knew; this was the boy who'd shown me the world and I somehow saw it all through his eyes.
I went back to London, never staying away from Barcelona for more than two weeks because I was scared, the fear made me feel weak, I couldn't loose any of them. Nana never questioned my visits because it was always what she'd known, Alexia never asked for me to visit Barcelona because she didn't want me coming back to Spain.
By the time I was sixteen, Mateo was a completely different person to the one I'd first met but somehow I'd look in those deadened, grey eyes of his and feel sorry for the person he'd become. I knew he'd lost himself to the drugs but I was so certain that I could save him, because the idea of leaving him was sickening to me.
But everything had changed. He used to hold onto my hand, a little reminder of our union, he then gripped onto it so the pink turned white. He used to position his hands on my waist when we were in a group, it used to make me feel safe, but now he was holding me there like a prisoner. He became forceful and unforgiving while I just made sure I didn't put a foot out of line to accommodate that; he used to love my wild side but he began seeing it was unpredictable and made sure to 'keep me under control'.
I noticed that with time, Maya was looking less and less sunny. The girl I'd met, never had a frown on her face, her eyes were bright and her laughter was the best sound in the world. The girl she'd grown to be was vacant and felt like she was in a slightly different reality to everyone else, she was never fully there anymore.
I was learning that I didn't love Mateo, instead I was just scared of loosing him and loved the idea of what we used to be. He'd made me dependent upon him, the idea of life without us as a pair seemed impossible because without him, who was I?
After my rehabilitation, Mateo tried convincing me to stay in Barcelona but Maya stepped in and forced me to head back to London. She said I couldn't give up my career, but I guessed that she knew what happened behind closed doors, the makeup may have been able to hide all of the bruises but my flinches spoke volumes enough for her to have caught on.
Every time I went back to Barcelona afterwards, I felt sick as I boarded the plane because I knew that it was leading back to him and everything else that came with the idea of us.
He used to make me strong, he'd taught me to be brave and built me up more than anyone else but that was just so he could break me down harder than any other person could. He then made me weak and scared, the minute his hand would reach my shoulder I knew what was coming next; I knew I'd have to pull myself off the floor at the end of it and climb into bed next to him, for what else could I do?
That Christmas, I tried leaving Mateo. The abuse had reached another level, I'd been knocked out cold on the streets of the city and luckily been found by Maya, but after that, I knew if I stayed, I'd end up dead. It took an entire month to find the courage to say those words, "we're done," and it only took a minute for him to convince me of otherwise. Mateo told me that if I left, he'd find me wherever I ran to and his face would be the last thing I ever saw. That was enough to scare me into staying as I took ahold of his face and begged for forgiveness, tears streaming down my cheeks and my heart beating so fast I thought it would explode.
My visits continued, the abuse just got worse and worse. I was lucky to make it back on the plane to England alive.
One time Leah picked me up from the airport, my eyes were still red from the tears I'd been holding back and the purpled bruise around my eye was ever so slightly showing through the foundation. Leah noticed straight away, taking ahold my cheeks and studying my eye until she said those terrifying words, "Who did this to you?" You'd think they were words I'd been hoping to hear for years, but no, because my twisted heart still wanted to protect Mateo. Part of me still believed I could save him and find the boy I'd once known.
I pushed her away, lying that I'd gotten drunk and fell down the stairs. I didn't think she bought it, but she did stop asking questions. Though after that Leah was much more anxious whenever I left for Spain, always studying my face when I returned.
I turned seventeen just before the season ended. Of course the minute that final whistle was blown, I was on a plane to the life thirteen year old me had somehow fallen into. It would be the last time I ever visited them all, it would be the last time we'd all be together as a group and it would be the last time I ever had enough courage to hope things would get better.