Chapter Text
"Malparido."
James whispered as he harshly kicked the ball in the net. This was his relaxation tactic he used when he was stressed. Now that he heard the rumours of him being transferred out of Real Madrid, this was becoming frequent.
"Caré chimba me quiere quitar." He mumbled as he went to retrieve the ball again. He was alone in the large stadium at night as his teammates were in the hotel, preparing for their game next week. He felt powerful- as if he owned the whole stadium. Being alone made him feel like he was out in Outer Space, like he could scream and break out in to tears and no one can hear him.
He sniffled as he places the soccer ball into place, kicking and missing. He curses quietly as he slumps to ground, already feeling tired. He laid down, staring up into the stadium's open ceiling. The Stars were beautiful, the moon outshining all of them. He blinked as his vision got blurry from the tears forming.
'Real Madrid star could be leaving this summer!'
'Real Madrid no longer wants the younger soccer star'
'Copa America weighs Rodriguez's reputation on Real'
The subtitles spin around in his head. Were these really true? He frowns as clouds starts to form, covering the stars. He sighs as he closes his eyes, remembering all the memories with Real. The game against Granada, where he scored a goal. He smiled at the thought of the fans cheering him on.
No long after, his watch beeps, indicating it was 10:00. He didn't want to go back quite yet. He sat up, and rubbed his eyes. Although there were still problems on his shoulders, he felt less sick to his stomach. It was relieving- the stress was never good for a soccer player. He takes his phone out his bookbag and calls Marcelo.
In three rings, he picks up.
"Parcero! Qué mas! Donde 'stas?"
He asked in a happy tone. He can hear Sergio faintly say "hola!" In the background.
"Eh... I'm here in the stadium. I'll be there in a few." He says, almost whisper level. Even though Marcelo was his best friend, he can't help himself feel nervous talking to other people.
"Ah... apurate, pues! We miss you!"
"alright! I'll be there in maybe, 5 minutes."
They said their goodbyes and the call ended.
As James stood up, he couldn't help but have a warm feeling in his stomach. When Marcelo said that they missed him, did that mean Cristiano missed him as well? They were friends and all, but they never really interacted outside the games and locker room. Sure, maybe a couple times Salomé and Junior had played together, but that was rare. He sighed and put on his bookbag, walking out to the darkness of Madrid. Walking back to the hotel, all he thought about was Cristiano, and if he would miss him if he left the club.