Breakfast is prepared and the guests start to come downstairs one by one. Everyone wishes me a good morning, I smile back at each and every one of them. I grab a cheese sandwich and walk upstairs to my room. It's loud downstairs, so I close the door behind me. Everyone seems to be so excited for the games today, and I must say, despite the fact that I have limited interest in football, I'm quite excited as well. I sit down on my bed and glance over at the black leather booklet that's been sitting on my night stand. It's so tempting to open it. I take it in my hand and investigate the binding and the cover. There seem to be initials carved in gold on the front. I open the book and see all kinds of dates. It's a journal and the first piece is written a few months ago, somewhere in December. I start reading it, just because I can't contain myself.
14th of December 2009
Dearest reader,
I only realize just now that I have never kept a journal, especially not for anyone in specific. I just bought this little booklet today. This idea had been spinning around my mind for a while and I thought was a great idea to just write down my story, my plans and my thoughts. And it's even more difficult to do so in English rather than in Spanish. So mind the mistakes I will make in the language, it's not my first. I'd better start with an introduction: My name is Fernando Torres, the international football player from Spain. I've been born and raised there and I don't think I'd ever want to live elsewhere. Today is the game against Canada, and I really hope we're going to win, not sure how to, because I haven't been quite as well as I used to be, but I'll try to score. For you, whoever you are. This is a very important game for me.
15th of December 2009
Dearest reader,
It seems like forever that I have actually talked to someone close to me. Even though it was only yesterday, a few hours ago actually. It's a little over 12 now. I have been banned from the game and I had to leave the field, which made me feel terrible. Have you ever felt like you wanted to run away from all the sorrow and the pain? From all the blame that you never do well. I just want to run away from everything and I have been feeling like this for a while. I'll just change my name, cut my name. Stop football... I don't think I can do this for much longer. I'm sorry.
So Roberto happened to be Fernando Torres? That seems rather impossible. I have had the missing football player in my house and I didn't even notice. I recognized his face, but not as Fernando Torres. And now he is gone. Great. I turn the page of the journal and continue reading a bit.
16th of December 2009
Dearest reader,
I got away. It took some time, because of the coach who happens to be all around. He has eyes EVERYWHERE. He doesn't want one of the players to get out without his permission. But I left the hotel and got away. I'm sitting on the beach now, 40 kilometers away from the hotel and no one recognized me. Yet. The sunset is beautiful though, I'd share it with someone if I could. But not now. It would have been too much of a risk.
I readjust myself and sit up. Just as I wanted to continue reading, I hear my mother call me from downstairs.
"Alexandra, could you come help me please?" she calls out. I sigh and put the journal back on the nightstand. I look at it for a split second and then take it again and put it under my pillow as that seems like a safer location. I'm not going to tell my mother about it. I could possibly tell Hailey, but she has some strange connections through her brother that it will probably end up at the Spanish national team. So I'd rather not.
"What's up?" I say as I walk through the door. My mom points at the dishes and I roll my eyes, but obey. I open the faucet and wait for the water to get warm. "Also, that new guest left again, after a few hours. He gave me the money that he would've spend this week." I point at the envelope on the counter and my mom looks surprised as she opens it, but puts the money away anyways. I started doing the dishes with Fernando in my mind. I kind of wondered what had happened.
I wonder whether Hailey knows more about this. I really don't know if she does, but her brother has a friend, who has a friend, who has a cousin etcetera who is friends with David Villa, who happens to be Fernando Torres' best friend. It's something Hailey just to brag about. However, she never talked about the disappearance, which I understand. It wouldn't be something you'd talk about if you had the decency. I finish up the dishes and move back upstairs, back to the journal. It's too tempting not to read. I just want to know what happened to him.
17th of December 2009
Dearest reader,
In my opinion, most of the things I do are useless. And yes, you may consider me depressed now. I did say I would stop playing football, but I don't think I can do it. It's my passion. It all started when I was really little, I would play on the fields outside my house for fun. That's what I did today, playing with kids, I didn't look like Fernando Torres. My hair is gone. I miss my hair. Anyways, I'll keep this terribly short now. I'm leaving to Ukraine tomorrow, I'm pretty sure they won't pay attention to me there. I did see the news yesterday, they are looking for me? I feel honored, yet I'm not that special, so I don't really understand. I'll catch a plane tomorrow and I'll let you know how Ukraine is. It seems like a cold place.
He is important. Not to me, but he is important to the Spanish team and to the entire country. I don't know why he is acting so depressed in his journal. I mean, I understand, but he has everything he ever wanted. I don't understand why this would be a reason why he would flee the country. Then again, it's probably just me. I have never seen a reason to flee from the country that I love so much.
18th of December 2009
Dearest reader,
I'm writing this as I'm in the plane towards Ukraine. There are so many people int he plane with me and it just leaves me wondering why they would even go there. I'm just going there because it seems as if it's one of the most logical places no one would look. I don't know who you are yet, and who will pick up this journal. But hopefully you respect my story and will tell someone, but not yet, okay? Please keep this a secret for a little longer. You will find out why soon enough as you continue reading. I get too many weird looks from the people in the plane, it's best if I stop writing now.
I close the journal and put it back in my safe hiding place. I take out my phone and dial Hailey's number. It takes a while before the voice mail pops up. I sigh and give up. I don't know who else to ask questions about Fernando. I decide to just let it go for now and I take my guitar from the corner of the room and start to play a little song on it. I haven't played the guitar for a while, but I used to play it very often back in the day. I've always been into music. I did play the piano, but that wasn't for me, so I decided to stick with the guitar and that was totally my thing. I really wish to play in a band sometime in the future, but perhaps not anytime soon. I don't have the time for that. I can't combine school and work and a band. I should be glad that we're currently free from school. I just had my exams and I'll be going back to school in a couple of weeks. As I continue thinking, I realize that a few years back, we had another famous person in our bed and breakfast. I remember it vaguely because I was only 16, maybe even younger. But Cristiano Ronaldo and his then-girlfriend spend a few days here. And I don't know if he knows anything about Fernando Torres, but it could be possible that he does. I look through my contacts. His girlfriend, Rose, was a really nice girl and we had good contact during the time she stayed. She said we'd keep in touch, but we actually never did, but I still have her number. I finally find her name. Rose Valderez. I doubt that she knows anything, but I click the call button anyways. My bill is going to be sky high if she is in Portugal right now.
"This is Rose Valderez speaking," a clear voice says at the other end of the line.
"Hey! This is Alexandra Roos, calling from South Africa," I say to her and it's silent for a while.
"Oh Alexandra! I can remember you vaguely, what is up?" she asks nicely.
"Well, this might be a bit odd, but do you happen to know anything about Fernando Torres?" I ask her. It's silent but I hear her sigh.
"You mean the Spanish Torres who disappeared mysteriously back in December?" she answers.
"Actually yes. I know it's totally inappropriate to call you for this now, but I didn't know who else to turn to," I said, perhaps a little too fast.
"Is he a new passion? One of your new cases that you're working on?" Rose questions and I laugh.
"Could be, but no. Just curiosity I guess," I say and I smile.
"I think Cristiano knows a little more about this. I really don't pay attention to those things," she says, "We're staying in a hotel in South Africa too, so I'll come by some time, okay?"
"Sure, I will see you around, thanks anyways," I say and I hang up the phone. I still have a few hundred questions in my head, but I don't think I'll get them answered anytime soon. Maybe this should be one of my new cases. It's odd that Rose still remembers that I loved to do investigation work. I always said that I'd work for the police, but that hasn't happened yet. Who knows. I might even find out the truth.