Fic: let's go back to the start [Cesc Fabregas, Leo Messi, Gerard Pique, pre-slash] (PG)
Title: let's go back to the start
Characters: Cesc Fabregas, Leo Messi, Gerard Pique (also featuring Carlota Fabregas, Xavi Hernandez, Pep Guardiola and Javier Mascherano)
Rating: PG
Summary: It's not like Cesc expects things to be the same as they were eight years ago - he's optimistic, not naive - but he definitely had hopes of old friends being pleased to see him. Being back at Barcelona should be easy. It isn't.
Notes: Thanks are due to meretricula, who prompted half the ideas in this. Title from The Scientist by Coldplay. Follows on from the kids from yesterday, although it stands alone perfectly well.
Carlota's quiet for so long that Cesc gets worried. "Hey. Say something."
"...just be happy, okay? Then all of this will have been worth it."
By unspoken agreement, they both ignore the little break in her voice. Sometimes Cesc can get a little caught up in his own drama, but this time he knows it hasn't been fun and games for any of them.
When he came to London aged 16, he'd fancied himself an adult in a kid's body. It took years - and the first stirrings of restlessness - for him to figure out the truth: that he still had one last, selfish act in him, one more opportunity to indulge the kind of bullheaded, reckless desire that only a kid could nurture.
His family had understood. Partly for their own adult selfishness, partly because his parents have never stopped feeling guilty about making him grow up so quickly, and in Carlota's case, because she's always known.
"I'll do my best."
* * *
Gerard texts him five times in two minutes.
About fucking time!!!! :D
Have you told Puyi?
Are you sure everything's done???
When are you flying in?
You have to see my face every day. This is gonna be fucking awesome!!!
Cesc types out I saw you just last month, dumbass, pauses, adds a smiley face, and presses send.
He gets that this is different, of course he does, but it's hard to brohug someone through the phone.
* * *
Xavi says, "let me know if you need anything. Don't stress, just get fit. We need you for the long haul." As if Cesc's signing wasn't linked in the minds of everyone involved with preparing the succession for life after him.
Other people see obstacles; Xavi sees pathways. That's what makes him irreplaceable.
* * *
Pep says, "see, you made it back. Now the hard work begins."
His smile is warm, sharpened by infectious certainty behind bright eyes, and Cesc has to shake himself out of staring like an idiot. That right there is everything he's ever wanted to be, as soon as he was old enough to aspire to something.
Back then, he could never have imagined that the uncrowned king of Camp Nou would one day look at him with that odd blend of affection and calculation. Until a few years ago, he probably wouldn't have known to read the calculation as a compliment, either.
"Yes, sir."
* * *
Leo doesn't say anything at all.
It's not like Cesc expects things to be the same as they were eight years ago - he's optimistic, not naive - but he definitely had hopes of old friends being pleased to see him. Leo hadn't even been mad when he left, not like Gerard.
Peel away the shell, and he's just as driven as Cesc, just as ambitious, just as bad with defeat. That's why he'd been the one who understood why Cesc had to go, when Gerard was still at the screaming and door-slamming stage. After all, Leo had done just as much for his own career at a younger age.
(His relationship with Barca has been hard-earned, not like Cesc and Gerard, who were born into theirs, and were less careful with their inheritance because it had come so easily.)
Don't look back, he'd said then. If you're going to do this, never look back, or you might as well stay here.
It had been one of the longest sentences he'd ever spoken to Cesc, in all the years they'd known each other. One of the most flatly-delivered, too, like he was reciting a mantra.
I won't, Cesc had replied, full of the certainty of the very young.
* * *
The first training session in Barcelona starts out almost eeriely like a Spain one. Similar methods, a lot of the same people - and then the media's being packed off, and they're about to play a training game.
To Cesc's surprise, he's participating. Before he wandered off to join his own team, Gerard had cackled something in Cesc's ear about Pep dropping him in at the deep end. He spends a moment happily contemplating the various forms of revenge he could inflict on Gerard during the match before he realises the obvious flaw in the plan.
"Don't go easy on Leo. He hates that," Mascherano says from his elbow, following his gaze to the small figure lining up for the other side.
Cesc wants to laugh. "I know."
The game is - good. Brilliant, really. He's still feeling a few twinges of discomfort, but so much of football is in the brain, and pretty soon all he's thinking about are the passing connections and being in the right bit of space at the right time.
Five minutes in, he's in possession, searching for a runner on one of the wings. There's all of three seconds in which he's distracted, and the next thing he knows Leo's stolen the ball off him, and Cesc knows from years of irritating experience that he's not going to catch him in full flight.
Leo pounces on any hint of weakness like a shark scenting blood in the water. It's never personal - faulting him for it would be about as stupid as faulting the shark for wanting meat. Ruthlessness is just his way of being honest.
Even knowing that, and knowing he'd do the same, has done the same when they were on opposing sides, being left in Leo's dust is still really irritating. If Cesc weren't busy covering Pedro's supporting run, he'd be shaking his head.
Pedro doesn't get far, but Villa does, and Cesc has to hold his hands up at the beaten Mino in goal in apology. "Sorry, got caught napping on the ball, won't happen again!"
"Right. You made the right move afterwards, though, that's good," Tito says soothingly, making Cesc feel all of sixteen years old. His old coach hasn't aged in the meantime either, which makes the deja vu even worse.
Pep's training ground manner, on the other hand, is pretty much exactly how he'd imagined it. "Get familiar with the patterns of the wingers and fullbacks. You need to spot their runs faster."
"Got it."
"Alexis, remember to stay wide. Thiago, hold your position relative to Cesc when your opponents are in possession."
"Okay, mister."
Pep nods emphatically. "I'm seeing lots of improvement from last week, gentlemen. Good work. Alright, let's restart."
* * *
Cesc bumps Leo's shoulder as they head out of the locker rooms, trying and failing to stop grinning like a maniac. Training had been exhausting, demanding, but above all a whole lot of fun. He'd even scored past Victor. Not that he could brag, considering what Leo had been up to.
"That was scary, you know that? You're not even fit. This is totally unfair."
"I - " The ghost of a smile steals across Leo's face before the shutters come down. "Cesc, don't -"
"Hey, hey, you guys already plotting against me?"
Gerard either has the best timing in the world or the worst. All these years and Cesc still can't decide which it is.
"Someone's paranoid," Leo says flatly, and Cesc gets that old, inexplicable thrill when he picks up the hint of teasing in it. (With Leo, decoding humour takes practice.)
Then he thinks back to Mascherano's warning, and spends an uncomfortable moment realising that a game which only a few could ever play in the time before - that only a few realised was a game at all - was no longer quite as exclusive.
If the pang of possessive jealousy makes him a bad person, well, he's never aspired to be a saint.
"Not when you are actually out to get me," Gerard laughs, grabbing Leo and ruffling his hair viciously. Leo endures the handling like a rag doll. "You know, this guy has been asking me for progress reports all week. He may not look it, but he is happy to see you."
Something inside Cesc's chest unclenches, and his next breath comes out as a long sigh. "You worried me, Leo. Can't we talk like we used to?"
There's a very loaded pause. "I can't - " Leo's voice breaks and he cuts himself off brutally. When he starts talking again, the flat tone is back. "After you left, I had to stop thinking you'd come back. And now - " he turns away, but not before Cesc sees his face crumble into misery.
Don't look back.
It had been a promise for more than just Cesc himself. He's always been in awe of Leo's certainty - it's what makes him the best, even more than the natural talent - too much, maybe, to ever be afraid of what it might mean.
And here they are.
Gerard shakes his head, frustration in every line of his body. "Leo, could you not just - nevermind." He gives Leo another squeeze before letting go. "No. Cesc, come on, we're going. There's a great new seafood restaurant I wanted to try out."
"You really need to stop feeding me. I'm going to get it at the next check-up," Cesc says glibly, but he's on automatic, his mind still stuck on the look on Leo's face.
"Nonsense! You're a growing boy. How old are you again, twelve?"
"Fuck you, I have it on good authority that I almost look legal these days."
"Yeah, you wish." As soon as they're out of the locker room and in the long tunnel leading to the players' carpark, Gerard drops the grin, lowers his voice. "Don't worry, Leo'll come around. I only stopped because pushing him always makes it worse."
"Has he always been this pissy?"
Gerard looks at him like he'd just asked if the sky was blue. "Worse, don't you remember? It takes a while for Leo to be comfortable around someone new. Just be patient."
"I'm not new."
"Aim the kicked puppy face at him, not me." Gerard sighs. "He's just waiting, you know, to see if you're still the same person. So don't worry about it."
He's not even sure he's the same person. As much as Gerard knows about him - that is, nearly everything - they can't talk about this. The answer is far too important to Gerard's worldview.
* * *
Cesc's first game is against Real.
(His mother had laughed that a script-writer couldn't have plotted it better. Carlota had shot back yeah, but only if we win.
And that's why she's his favourite.)
In the locker room, Leo sits down on the bench next to his. His face is as blank as it's ever been, except for the frighteningly familiar light in his eyes.
"Cesc. Hey, Cesc."
"So we're talking now?" Cesc says petulantly. Being able to let it go has never been one of his strong points.
Leo's eyes crinkle at the corners, like he's just about to smile. "Do you remember what you said, the first time we were in here?"
For a moment, he has only the vaguest memory of Leo's soft, quiet voice, and how tall the lockers looked, and being terrified and elated -
Then he gets it.
They've never been a perfectly matched pair, he and Leo. Too different, even if they've often wanted the same thing, and that applies to Gerard even more. Somehow, though, it's never stopped the three of them from balancing out.
Cesc holds his hand out. "Yeah, of course. Let's go. I'll show you."
* * *
The good thing about his first game being a decisive Clasico is that it takes his mind off debut-related nerves. The bad thing is that he has a whole other set of nerves instead.
Camp Nou's roars have a different quality when they're meant for you. In the back of his head, Cesc always knew that, but that doesn't make it any less devastating to experience.
It's almost too much. He can't imagine how anyone can stand it, week in, week out.
Then he sees Leo bearing down on goal, straight through a clutch of white shirts, and time seems to slow down. Later, he won't remember deciding to make the pass, or measuring the weight of it. Just seeing the ball make its way to Leo's feet at the perfect pace, him playing it wide instantly, Adriano's returning cross -
And at that point Cesc knows with absolute certainty what's going to happen next.
What happens next is what has always happened. He sets the move in motion, and Leo finishes.
* * *
Afterwards, there's a stupid brawl, which Cesc can't bring himself to care about, and then it's all over before he can get his breath back, and the Camp Nou is roaring its satisfaction, rage sated by victory.
Cesc finds himself looking for Gerard out of habit and finds him with an armful of Leo. There's a moment - which feels very long - when he's not sure of his welcome, and then he sees the look on Leo's face.
"You do remember."
His voice is as quiet as ever, but Cesc hears the words loud and clear with their foreheads pressed together and his fingers buried in Leo's hair.
Cesc had been young and stupid when he'd made that promise to Leo - so much so that he hadn't yet done the maths and realized that two kids from the same year making it at Barca was almost unheard of, let alone three, and Leo was probably going to be the one who stuck it out.
Maybe that naive kid isn't as gone as he thought. And maybe that's not such a bad thing.
"I didn't know how to say it. Now do you believe me?"
And finally, finally, there's a hint of that old soft smile on Leo's face. "Yeah. I haven't forgotten either. We're not letting you walk away again, Cesc."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"They look for each other, and find each other." - Pep Guardiola
Notes:
1. Cesc's parents got divorced when he was a young teenager, before his move to London.
2. Gerard really did text-stalk Cesc through the end of the negotiation process.
3. Pep is Cesc's idol, a fact which has been a matter of public record since Cesc's early La Masia days.
4. Cesc and Gerard met each other and were part of the same age group team even before Leo came to La Masia aged 13 and joined the same team. Cesc and Gerard both come from Barca-supporting families (in Gerard's case, his grandfather had even been vice-president for a while) while Leo famously moved to Spain because Barca offered to pay for the growth hormone treatment he needed.
5. Tito Vilanova, Guardiola's current number two (and old team mate from La Masia) coached the Cesc-Gerard-Leo class of 87 and knew all three pretty well.
6. Here's the goal in the fic.
7. Cesc on Leo, in a recent interview with El Pais:
- Did you sense then that Messi would be so good?
He was the best, but you never know. If somebody was going to make it then it was him, that was clear. He was the most balanced. Technically, he was always the best. Physically, you see him now and can’t knock him over. Before he was the smallest but, even though we were playing against older players, he still stood out. He’s very clever. He’s always on the prowl and sometimes it seems as if he goes quiet or has no character, but inside he is a born winner who is aware of absolutely everything.
8. There's one more fic in this series, which started with the kids from yesterday and will wrap up when Gerard has had his say.
As always, thank you for reading, and feedback would be lovely.
Characters: Cesc Fabregas, Leo Messi, Gerard Pique (also featuring Carlota Fabregas, Xavi Hernandez, Pep Guardiola and Javier Mascherano)
Rating: PG
Summary: It's not like Cesc expects things to be the same as they were eight years ago - he's optimistic, not naive - but he definitely had hopes of old friends being pleased to see him. Being back at Barcelona should be easy. It isn't.
Notes: Thanks are due to meretricula, who prompted half the ideas in this. Title from The Scientist by Coldplay. Follows on from the kids from yesterday, although it stands alone perfectly well.
Carlota's quiet for so long that Cesc gets worried. "Hey. Say something."
"...just be happy, okay? Then all of this will have been worth it."
By unspoken agreement, they both ignore the little break in her voice. Sometimes Cesc can get a little caught up in his own drama, but this time he knows it hasn't been fun and games for any of them.
When he came to London aged 16, he'd fancied himself an adult in a kid's body. It took years - and the first stirrings of restlessness - for him to figure out the truth: that he still had one last, selfish act in him, one more opportunity to indulge the kind of bullheaded, reckless desire that only a kid could nurture.
His family had understood. Partly for their own adult selfishness, partly because his parents have never stopped feeling guilty about making him grow up so quickly, and in Carlota's case, because she's always known.
"I'll do my best."
* * *
Gerard texts him five times in two minutes.
About fucking time!!!! :D
Have you told Puyi?
Are you sure everything's done???
When are you flying in?
You have to see my face every day. This is gonna be fucking awesome!!!
Cesc types out I saw you just last month, dumbass, pauses, adds a smiley face, and presses send.
He gets that this is different, of course he does, but it's hard to brohug someone through the phone.
* * *
Xavi says, "let me know if you need anything. Don't stress, just get fit. We need you for the long haul." As if Cesc's signing wasn't linked in the minds of everyone involved with preparing the succession for life after him.
Other people see obstacles; Xavi sees pathways. That's what makes him irreplaceable.
* * *
Pep says, "see, you made it back. Now the hard work begins."
His smile is warm, sharpened by infectious certainty behind bright eyes, and Cesc has to shake himself out of staring like an idiot. That right there is everything he's ever wanted to be, as soon as he was old enough to aspire to something.
Back then, he could never have imagined that the uncrowned king of Camp Nou would one day look at him with that odd blend of affection and calculation. Until a few years ago, he probably wouldn't have known to read the calculation as a compliment, either.
"Yes, sir."
* * *
Leo doesn't say anything at all.
It's not like Cesc expects things to be the same as they were eight years ago - he's optimistic, not naive - but he definitely had hopes of old friends being pleased to see him. Leo hadn't even been mad when he left, not like Gerard.
Peel away the shell, and he's just as driven as Cesc, just as ambitious, just as bad with defeat. That's why he'd been the one who understood why Cesc had to go, when Gerard was still at the screaming and door-slamming stage. After all, Leo had done just as much for his own career at a younger age.
(His relationship with Barca has been hard-earned, not like Cesc and Gerard, who were born into theirs, and were less careful with their inheritance because it had come so easily.)
Don't look back, he'd said then. If you're going to do this, never look back, or you might as well stay here.
It had been one of the longest sentences he'd ever spoken to Cesc, in all the years they'd known each other. One of the most flatly-delivered, too, like he was reciting a mantra.
I won't, Cesc had replied, full of the certainty of the very young.
* * *
The first training session in Barcelona starts out almost eeriely like a Spain one. Similar methods, a lot of the same people - and then the media's being packed off, and they're about to play a training game.
To Cesc's surprise, he's participating. Before he wandered off to join his own team, Gerard had cackled something in Cesc's ear about Pep dropping him in at the deep end. He spends a moment happily contemplating the various forms of revenge he could inflict on Gerard during the match before he realises the obvious flaw in the plan.
"Don't go easy on Leo. He hates that," Mascherano says from his elbow, following his gaze to the small figure lining up for the other side.
Cesc wants to laugh. "I know."
The game is - good. Brilliant, really. He's still feeling a few twinges of discomfort, but so much of football is in the brain, and pretty soon all he's thinking about are the passing connections and being in the right bit of space at the right time.
Five minutes in, he's in possession, searching for a runner on one of the wings. There's all of three seconds in which he's distracted, and the next thing he knows Leo's stolen the ball off him, and Cesc knows from years of irritating experience that he's not going to catch him in full flight.
Leo pounces on any hint of weakness like a shark scenting blood in the water. It's never personal - faulting him for it would be about as stupid as faulting the shark for wanting meat. Ruthlessness is just his way of being honest.
Even knowing that, and knowing he'd do the same, has done the same when they were on opposing sides, being left in Leo's dust is still really irritating. If Cesc weren't busy covering Pedro's supporting run, he'd be shaking his head.
Pedro doesn't get far, but Villa does, and Cesc has to hold his hands up at the beaten Mino in goal in apology. "Sorry, got caught napping on the ball, won't happen again!"
"Right. You made the right move afterwards, though, that's good," Tito says soothingly, making Cesc feel all of sixteen years old. His old coach hasn't aged in the meantime either, which makes the deja vu even worse.
Pep's training ground manner, on the other hand, is pretty much exactly how he'd imagined it. "Get familiar with the patterns of the wingers and fullbacks. You need to spot their runs faster."
"Got it."
"Alexis, remember to stay wide. Thiago, hold your position relative to Cesc when your opponents are in possession."
"Okay, mister."
Pep nods emphatically. "I'm seeing lots of improvement from last week, gentlemen. Good work. Alright, let's restart."
* * *
Cesc bumps Leo's shoulder as they head out of the locker rooms, trying and failing to stop grinning like a maniac. Training had been exhausting, demanding, but above all a whole lot of fun. He'd even scored past Victor. Not that he could brag, considering what Leo had been up to.
"That was scary, you know that? You're not even fit. This is totally unfair."
"I - " The ghost of a smile steals across Leo's face before the shutters come down. "Cesc, don't -"
"Hey, hey, you guys already plotting against me?"
Gerard either has the best timing in the world or the worst. All these years and Cesc still can't decide which it is.
"Someone's paranoid," Leo says flatly, and Cesc gets that old, inexplicable thrill when he picks up the hint of teasing in it. (With Leo, decoding humour takes practice.)
Then he thinks back to Mascherano's warning, and spends an uncomfortable moment realising that a game which only a few could ever play in the time before - that only a few realised was a game at all - was no longer quite as exclusive.
If the pang of possessive jealousy makes him a bad person, well, he's never aspired to be a saint.
"Not when you are actually out to get me," Gerard laughs, grabbing Leo and ruffling his hair viciously. Leo endures the handling like a rag doll. "You know, this guy has been asking me for progress reports all week. He may not look it, but he is happy to see you."
Something inside Cesc's chest unclenches, and his next breath comes out as a long sigh. "You worried me, Leo. Can't we talk like we used to?"
There's a very loaded pause. "I can't - " Leo's voice breaks and he cuts himself off brutally. When he starts talking again, the flat tone is back. "After you left, I had to stop thinking you'd come back. And now - " he turns away, but not before Cesc sees his face crumble into misery.
Don't look back.
It had been a promise for more than just Cesc himself. He's always been in awe of Leo's certainty - it's what makes him the best, even more than the natural talent - too much, maybe, to ever be afraid of what it might mean.
And here they are.
Gerard shakes his head, frustration in every line of his body. "Leo, could you not just - nevermind." He gives Leo another squeeze before letting go. "No. Cesc, come on, we're going. There's a great new seafood restaurant I wanted to try out."
"You really need to stop feeding me. I'm going to get it at the next check-up," Cesc says glibly, but he's on automatic, his mind still stuck on the look on Leo's face.
"Nonsense! You're a growing boy. How old are you again, twelve?"
"Fuck you, I have it on good authority that I almost look legal these days."
"Yeah, you wish." As soon as they're out of the locker room and in the long tunnel leading to the players' carpark, Gerard drops the grin, lowers his voice. "Don't worry, Leo'll come around. I only stopped because pushing him always makes it worse."
"Has he always been this pissy?"
Gerard looks at him like he'd just asked if the sky was blue. "Worse, don't you remember? It takes a while for Leo to be comfortable around someone new. Just be patient."
"I'm not new."
"Aim the kicked puppy face at him, not me." Gerard sighs. "He's just waiting, you know, to see if you're still the same person. So don't worry about it."
He's not even sure he's the same person. As much as Gerard knows about him - that is, nearly everything - they can't talk about this. The answer is far too important to Gerard's worldview.
* * *
Cesc's first game is against Real.
(His mother had laughed that a script-writer couldn't have plotted it better. Carlota had shot back yeah, but only if we win.
And that's why she's his favourite.)
In the locker room, Leo sits down on the bench next to his. His face is as blank as it's ever been, except for the frighteningly familiar light in his eyes.
"Cesc. Hey, Cesc."
"So we're talking now?" Cesc says petulantly. Being able to let it go has never been one of his strong points.
Leo's eyes crinkle at the corners, like he's just about to smile. "Do you remember what you said, the first time we were in here?"
For a moment, he has only the vaguest memory of Leo's soft, quiet voice, and how tall the lockers looked, and being terrified and elated -
Then he gets it.
They've never been a perfectly matched pair, he and Leo. Too different, even if they've often wanted the same thing, and that applies to Gerard even more. Somehow, though, it's never stopped the three of them from balancing out.
Cesc holds his hand out. "Yeah, of course. Let's go. I'll show you."
* * *
The good thing about his first game being a decisive Clasico is that it takes his mind off debut-related nerves. The bad thing is that he has a whole other set of nerves instead.
Camp Nou's roars have a different quality when they're meant for you. In the back of his head, Cesc always knew that, but that doesn't make it any less devastating to experience.
It's almost too much. He can't imagine how anyone can stand it, week in, week out.
Then he sees Leo bearing down on goal, straight through a clutch of white shirts, and time seems to slow down. Later, he won't remember deciding to make the pass, or measuring the weight of it. Just seeing the ball make its way to Leo's feet at the perfect pace, him playing it wide instantly, Adriano's returning cross -
And at that point Cesc knows with absolute certainty what's going to happen next.
What happens next is what has always happened. He sets the move in motion, and Leo finishes.
* * *
Afterwards, there's a stupid brawl, which Cesc can't bring himself to care about, and then it's all over before he can get his breath back, and the Camp Nou is roaring its satisfaction, rage sated by victory.
Cesc finds himself looking for Gerard out of habit and finds him with an armful of Leo. There's a moment - which feels very long - when he's not sure of his welcome, and then he sees the look on Leo's face.
"You do remember."
His voice is as quiet as ever, but Cesc hears the words loud and clear with their foreheads pressed together and his fingers buried in Leo's hair.
Cesc had been young and stupid when he'd made that promise to Leo - so much so that he hadn't yet done the maths and realized that two kids from the same year making it at Barca was almost unheard of, let alone three, and Leo was probably going to be the one who stuck it out.
Maybe that naive kid isn't as gone as he thought. And maybe that's not such a bad thing.
"I didn't know how to say it. Now do you believe me?"
And finally, finally, there's a hint of that old soft smile on Leo's face. "Yeah. I haven't forgotten either. We're not letting you walk away again, Cesc."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"They look for each other, and find each other." - Pep Guardiola
Notes:
1. Cesc's parents got divorced when he was a young teenager, before his move to London.
2. Gerard really did text-stalk Cesc through the end of the negotiation process.
3. Pep is Cesc's idol, a fact which has been a matter of public record since Cesc's early La Masia days.
4. Cesc and Gerard met each other and were part of the same age group team even before Leo came to La Masia aged 13 and joined the same team. Cesc and Gerard both come from Barca-supporting families (in Gerard's case, his grandfather had even been vice-president for a while) while Leo famously moved to Spain because Barca offered to pay for the growth hormone treatment he needed.
5. Tito Vilanova, Guardiola's current number two (and old team mate from La Masia) coached the Cesc-Gerard-Leo class of 87 and knew all three pretty well.
6. Here's the goal in the fic.
7. Cesc on Leo, in a recent interview with El Pais:
- Did you sense then that Messi would be so good?
He was the best, but you never know. If somebody was going to make it then it was him, that was clear. He was the most balanced. Technically, he was always the best. Physically, you see him now and can’t knock him over. Before he was the smallest but, even though we were playing against older players, he still stood out. He’s very clever. He’s always on the prowl and sometimes it seems as if he goes quiet or has no character, but inside he is a born winner who is aware of absolutely everything.
8. There's one more fic in this series, which started with the kids from yesterday and will wrap up when Gerard has had his say.
As always, thank you for reading, and feedback would be lovely.