3
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano, of course, takes matters into his own hands.
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">His mother as always told him “fight for the things you care about” and if there was ever a time to do so, it was now. He’s sick of letting everyone else run his and Fábio’s life. It wasn’t the time to sit back and wait; the terrible Getafe game was proof of that. It was time to take action.
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">He'd given it a few days before he called ahead and arranged a meeting with Florentino. He waited until after the Supercopa was over and the thrill of a victory and a Barcelona defeat was fresh in everyone’s minds. The unexpected transfer of Essien to the team threw a wrench in the works, though; the president of the club was busier than ever and only had a short time to spare after the player’s hastily organized presentation.
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">He sits in the man’s office, waiting for him to arrive. As he thinks about what he wants to say, he looks around the room. He sees a picture of himself and of other Galácticos lining Florentino’s walls, and other pictures from the man’s two terms as president of the club. A statue of Cibeles, Madrid’s various logos throughout the years. It still gives him a sense of wonder as he realizes, he’s a part of all this. Even the picture of the team winning La Novena brings a small smile to his face, instead of the usual pressure he feels at the thought of the Champions League.
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Florentino bursts into the room with an air of organized chaos, dictating to a frazzled secretary as he walks. Cristiano rises from his seat out of respect, and as soon as the man is finished and the secretary is gone, he walks over and shakes Florentino’s hand.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Sorry Cristiano, I don’t have a lot of time right now, we weren’t really planning on signing someone else this late. But how are you? How’s your son? Sit! Sit!” The man rambles a bit, just looking like a harried old man and nothing like the shrewd villain Cris was making him out to be in his mind.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Cristianinho is doing fine,” Cris answers as he takes a seat. He goes along with the small talk, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “He’s running around with so much energy now, it’s exhausting.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Florentino laughs, “Running around on the pitch and then at home. You never catch a break.”
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">They chuckle together, even though it’s not really that funny. Once the quiet stretches on for a beat too long, Florentino twines his fingers together, folding them on the desk as he leans forward. “Was there something you needed, Cris? I’ve got to head downstairs in a few minutes.”
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cris nods, steeling himself. “Why isn’t Fábio playing?” he asks.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Excuse me?” Florentino replies with a twitch of the eyebrow.
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Why isn’t Fábio Coentrão playing?” Cristiano repeats patiently and clearly, not backing down.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“He’s got a four match ban, Cristiano,” the older man answers, a polite smile still on his face. “We appealed it, but the appeal was rejected.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“I don’t mean right now, I mean in general. He hasn’t played a single minute this season. Why is that?” Cris presses.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Our lineups are not decided by just one person. You’ll have to talk to José or Aitor, they’re the ones who see you guys day to day and make those calls,” Florentino shrugs, tone still light.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Do they?” Cris asks sharply, staring the older man down. Florentino meets his gaze evenly, unflappable. “I know what you said to Fábio. About me.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Oh?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“And I know that you’ve told the coaches to bench him until he comes crawling to you in apology saying he’ll never be seen in public with me again.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Cristiano-”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“You didn’t have a problem with him until a few weeks ago. He hasn’t done anything. There’s nothing in the rules that he’s broken. Why are you punishing him?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Look, Cristiano,” Florentino starts, “When you signed your contract, there were a lot of clauses. One thing we discussed a lot with your agent was how you and the club were going to divide up your image rights. You know how important image is to a celebrity of your status. Think how it must be even more important for a club like Madrid.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“I understand that, but I don’t see how Fábio would hurt your image,” Cris insists. “Nobody even knows about us!”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Fábio signed a similar contract. All the players agree that their lives off the pitch are a reflection of the team and anything they do they will do discretely. Fábio was not discrete. Our press team was not able to use a single picture of you two from that luncheon because of him. People might not know, but they are talking, Cristiano. My job is to make them shut up. And if that means putting Coentrão on the bench for a while, so be it. He’ll learn not to repeat his actions.”
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“That’s - that’s not fair,” Cris manages, barely able to believe the words coming out of Florentino’s mouth. A part of him had been wishing that Fábio had been overreacting to what Florentino said at the preseason lunch, or that Fábio’s time on the bench had just been simple coincidence. But hearing it all coming from the president of Real Madrid was a harsh slap of reality.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin"> “What do you want, Cristiano?” Florentino sighs tiredly, like he’s already sick of having this conversation.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cris hesitates. What did he even come here for? He came here to argue Fábio’s case, but now it was obvious that nothing could be or would be done. Cris looks back into Florentino’s calculating eyes. There is one thing he still wants, though. One impossible thing.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Listen, me and Fábio are gay,” he answers, ignoring the way Florentino cringes, as if because Cristiano himself just admitted it that now it’s worse. “It’s the truth. We are together. We’ve been together for a while. But we’re also professionals. I want you to accept that and allow that. Allow us to be who we are in public.”
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Florentino was shaking his head before Cristiano even finished, “I can't do that Cris.”
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">They’re staring each other down, each one willing the other to crumble, turn away, blink, show weakness of any kind. There’s not much that Cris has to bargain with right now, but he’s still got one card he can still put down:
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Then I'm not going to play on Sunday.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Florentino’s brows furrow in incredulity. “That's not an option, Cristiano. You don't get to give me an ultimatum. For once, you need to think about the needs of the team before your whims. No player is bigger than Real Madrid, and that includes you.”
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano fumbles, “Fábio is not a whim.” It’s embarrassing that that’s all he can come up with now, but it’s like all the fight left him every time he was shot down, until he had nothing left to defend himself with.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“You know that's not the point here. You’re playing this Sunday, Fábio is not. End of story.”
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">They’re locking eyes again, but this time it’s different. The defiance is gone and Cris is looking back sullen and angry, and Florentino has that note of authority in his eyes, the ‘I-have-spoken-and-you-will-obey’ look.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cris is the first to turn away, and Florentino relaxes.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">The Portuguese sighs, “So, what now? I play against Granada, OK. But what about Fábio? When does he get to play?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“We can discuss that after his ban gets lifted,” Florentino says with a tone of finality.
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">The shrill sound of the phone ringing cuts through the dangerously tense atmosphere. Florentino says a quick “Excuse me” as he turns to pick it up, polite as always even though his tone is cold. He’s being summoned back down to the media room for some more business.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano stands up, legs and back feeling stiff, a sad, heavy pit in his stomach. Florentino sees him to the door. They walk down the hall and take the elevator together in silence, the older man seeming as calm and unflappable as always with that little ‘cordial’ half-smile still on his face, while Cris avoids looking in his general direction.
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">He barely greets Michael Essien, Mourinho's new signing. He remembers him from when they faced each other in the Premier League, him in Manchester and Essien with Chelsea. Michael was always a friendly guy, but Cris can’t bring himself to muster up more than a half-smile and handshake for him and his relatives.
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">He drives home quietly, no music on, mind blank. He’d brought the Aventador because he didn’t give a fuck about being seen; let the whole city see him for all he cared. Now he wishes he’d brought the Audi and was able to go unnoticed. The spectacular failure of his discussion with Florentino has left him miserable. In the same way that he rehashes all of his mistakes after a match, now that he’s driving away he’s thinking of all the things he should have said, the ways he should have replied, the points he should have made. He swallows down the lump in his throat and the feeling of inadequacy. He just wants to go home.
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">~*~
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">He finds Fábio poolside, along with his son. The two are relaxing, splayed out on the pool chairs getting some sun. Junior is covered from head to toe in a light sheen of sunscreen (Fábio was always super protective of his skin) and was curled up against Marosca the way Cris himself liked to, using the big golden dog as a comfy pillow. Fábio is on the pool chair next to Junior, sprawled out half-asleep in just his swim trunks (he’s never been a short shorts type of guy, much to Cris’s dismay).
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano just stands there by the glass doors, looking out at his little family, a surge of love making his heart swell. He tries to see what Florentino sees, trying to find the evil or the wrongness in how happy this makes him feel. He can’t find it though, can’t see anything in this image of his lover and his son except perfection.
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cris walks over to Fábio’s chair and kneels down. He picks up the other man’s limp arm and wraps it around himself as he presses his face into Fábio’s shoulder. Fábio startles awake, not having meant to have fallen into a light sleep while he was supposed to be watching Junior. He curls his arm tighter around his lover’s shoulders once he realizes who it is.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Hey,” Fábio croaks out, “you just get home?”
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cris says nothing, just pulls his lower lip between his teeth and scrunches his face up. Alarm bells ring for Fábio; that’s Cris’s ‘I’m-really-upset-and-I’m-not-OK’ face.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Cris? What’s wrong, meu amor?” Cris just presses his face harder against Fábio’s shoulder, shaking his head. His shoulders are trembling. Fábio sits up and wraps another arm around Cris and pulling him closer, making a little shield with his body the way he wants to do in real life, shield Cris from everything and anyone out to hurt him. “It’s gonna be OK, Cris. Remember? It’s gonna be OK,” Fábio rambles, trying for comforting but not even believing it himself.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cris keeps shaking his head, as if to say, ‘No, Fábio, it’s not. It’s not OK, but I’m going to try to fix this for you even if it costs me.’
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">~*~
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">The game against Granada goes smoothly, and even though it wasn’t pretty, a win is a win. And for it being a rare game in which he didn’t even want to be playing, Cristiano’s own performance was spectacular. There were moments of brilliance, where the team was finally gelling together and regaining last season’s rhythm. There were also moments when it became obvious that they had more work ahead of them if they were going to try to reclaim all the titles they had won.
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">When Cristiano scores, it's bittersweet. The kick was full of frustration and adrenaline, and when the ball crossed into the net at such a sharp angle, the fans went wild. Their reaction makes Cris look up. He sees the fans up in the stands screaming in jubilation, dressed in white with signs and banners, and wonders, 'Would you still be cheering if you really knew about me?' The thought alone is enough to make his head drop and shoulders slump.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">His teammates run to him grinning with exhilaration, but he doesn't celebrate with them.
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">~*~
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano scores his brace and Pipita notches in a third goal to give Madrid its first win of the new season. But Cris has been in this town long enough to know that the press isn’t going to be focusing on that.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">He enters the mixed zone with his head high but eyes downcast. Journalists and cameramen press against the barrier to get as close to him as they can, holding out their microphones.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">"Do you want me to talk?" he asks. It's a dumb question, because the answer is always 'of course', but Cris isn't even sure if he wants to talk. He heads over and almost rolls his eyes as he hears the inevitable first question.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin"> "You’ve finally scored again, scored two goals, but you did not celebrate them. Why?"
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">"Uh... because..." Cris hesitates. Now’s his chance to back out. His lack of celebration was intended as a message to Florentino, one that he thinks the man heard loud and clear. He could leave it at that and leave with the Seleção tomorrow on a bittersweet note. But he remembers that tomorrow he’ll be leaving with Fábio. Fábio, who’ll play for Portugal, but not for Madrid because Madrid is a club that will threaten him, that will refuse to stand up for him, that would rather see him on the bench than anywhere near Cristiano. Cris is not thinking of what is best for the club right now, because the club is sure as hell not thinking about what is best for him. Right now, he’s thinking that he wants to see Florentino sweat.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">"Well…” he answers, “Maybe I'm a little sad. That’s the only reason. When I don’t celebrate my goals it’s because I’m sad." He can see all their eyes lighting up at his words, the prospect of this new breaking story to run during international break exciting to them and they lean forward, crowding him.
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Why?”
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">He shrugs. “The people know why.” A murmur rises through the crowd.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Is it about the other day,” someone speaks up, “Because of the UEFA award?”
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano almost scoffs. He hasn’t even thought about the award since his meeting yesterday. It’s the furthest thing on his mind, actually. “No, it’s not about that. That’s the least of it all. There are other things more important than that.” Much more important things.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Cristiano! Wh-”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“I’m not going to talk about it anymore,” he cuts her off, trying to control the situation. “The people know why.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Is it personal or professional?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano hesitates, debating how to answer. Technically, the answer is ‘both’; this is a personal matter that has become a professional issue. But if he says ‘personal’, it’ll only make him look bad, like a whiny kid who’s having problems with his girlfriend or something. If he answers ‘professional’, however, then it becomes a club issue, and all hell breaks loose.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Professional.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">A reporter actually asks him about the match, bless her soul. Cris half-heartedly discusses his latest record-breaking goal scoring figure, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the crowd of impatient journalists waiting to get back to ‘the real story’.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Cristiano! Are you mad at the people who criticized your form? Who are you mad at?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano blinks. “No one.” He never said he was mad. Already, right in front of him, the press is changing the story. He can hear the voice of Jorge Mendes screaming in his head ‘Get out of there!” and he fidgets.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“So why do you say that people know why you’re sad?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“The people in the club.” Cris cringes internally at how that sounds. A ‘professional’ problem that the ‘people in the club’ know about that’s making him ‘sad’. He’s glad that he’s leaving for Portugal tomorrow, because he sure as hell is not looking forward to seeing the headlines he’s just created.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Can’t you tell us why you’re sad?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“They know why. I can’t say anything else.” He’s about to turn away to leave when a voice from the crowd stops him.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Cristiano, the league is in a ten day pause for international break. With this news of your sadness, it’s going to be ten hard days for the team and the fans. If you’re sad, why-”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Now it’s national team!” He cuts the journalist off almost gleefully. Sure, it’ll be ten hard days. For Florentino. “Well, I’m not going to say any more.” He turns and walks away, ducking his head as he leaves the mixed zone, dozens of chattering confused journalists in his wake.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Mission accomplished.
Next
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano, of course, takes matters into his own hands.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">His mother as always told him “fight for the things you care about” and if there was ever a time to do so, it was now. He’s sick of letting everyone else run his and Fábio’s life. It wasn’t the time to sit back and wait; the terrible Getafe game was proof of that. It was time to take action.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">He'd given it a few days before he called ahead and arranged a meeting with Florentino. He waited until after the Supercopa was over and the thrill of a victory and a Barcelona defeat was fresh in everyone’s minds. The unexpected transfer of Essien to the team threw a wrench in the works, though; the president of the club was busier than ever and only had a short time to spare after the player’s hastily organized presentation.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">He sits in the man’s office, waiting for him to arrive. As he thinks about what he wants to say, he looks around the room. He sees a picture of himself and of other Galácticos lining Florentino’s walls, and other pictures from the man’s two terms as president of the club. A statue of Cibeles, Madrid’s various logos throughout the years. It still gives him a sense of wonder as he realizes, he’s a part of all this. Even the picture of the team winning La Novena brings a small smile to his face, instead of the usual pressure he feels at the thought of the Champions League.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Florentino bursts into the room with an air of organized chaos, dictating to a frazzled secretary as he walks. Cristiano rises from his seat out of respect, and as soon as the man is finished and the secretary is gone, he walks over and shakes Florentino’s hand.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Sorry Cristiano, I don’t have a lot of time right now, we weren’t really planning on signing someone else this late. But how are you? How’s your son? Sit! Sit!” The man rambles a bit, just looking like a harried old man and nothing like the shrewd villain Cris was making him out to be in his mind.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Cristianinho is doing fine,” Cris answers as he takes a seat. He goes along with the small talk, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “He’s running around with so much energy now, it’s exhausting.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Florentino laughs, “Running around on the pitch and then at home. You never catch a break.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">They chuckle together, even though it’s not really that funny. Once the quiet stretches on for a beat too long, Florentino twines his fingers together, folding them on the desk as he leans forward. “Was there something you needed, Cris? I’ve got to head downstairs in a few minutes.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cris nods, steeling himself. “Why isn’t Fábio playing?” he asks.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Excuse me?” Florentino replies with a twitch of the eyebrow.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Why isn’t Fábio Coentrão playing?” Cristiano repeats patiently and clearly, not backing down.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“He’s got a four match ban, Cristiano,” the older man answers, a polite smile still on his face. “We appealed it, but the appeal was rejected.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“I don’t mean right now, I mean in general. He hasn’t played a single minute this season. Why is that?” Cris presses.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Our lineups are not decided by just one person. You’ll have to talk to José or Aitor, they’re the ones who see you guys day to day and make those calls,” Florentino shrugs, tone still light.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Do they?” Cris asks sharply, staring the older man down. Florentino meets his gaze evenly, unflappable. “I know what you said to Fábio. About me.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Oh?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“And I know that you’ve told the coaches to bench him until he comes crawling to you in apology saying he’ll never be seen in public with me again.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Cristiano-”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“You didn’t have a problem with him until a few weeks ago. He hasn’t done anything. There’s nothing in the rules that he’s broken. Why are you punishing him?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Look, Cristiano,” Florentino starts, “When you signed your contract, there were a lot of clauses. One thing we discussed a lot with your agent was how you and the club were going to divide up your image rights. You know how important image is to a celebrity of your status. Think how it must be even more important for a club like Madrid.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“I understand that, but I don’t see how Fábio would hurt your image,” Cris insists. “Nobody even knows about us!”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Fábio signed a similar contract. All the players agree that their lives off the pitch are a reflection of the team and anything they do they will do discretely. Fábio was not discrete. Our press team was not able to use a single picture of you two from that luncheon because of him. People might not know, but they are talking, Cristiano. My job is to make them shut up. And if that means putting Coentrão on the bench for a while, so be it. He’ll learn not to repeat his actions.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“That’s - that’s not fair,” Cris manages, barely able to believe the words coming out of Florentino’s mouth. A part of him had been wishing that Fábio had been overreacting to what Florentino said at the preseason lunch, or that Fábio’s time on the bench had just been simple coincidence. But hearing it all coming from the president of Real Madrid was a harsh slap of reality.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin"> “What do you want, Cristiano?” Florentino sighs tiredly, like he’s already sick of having this conversation.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cris hesitates. What did he even come here for? He came here to argue Fábio’s case, but now it was obvious that nothing could be or would be done. Cris looks back into Florentino’s calculating eyes. There is one thing he still wants, though. One impossible thing.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Listen, me and Fábio are gay,” he answers, ignoring the way Florentino cringes, as if because Cristiano himself just admitted it that now it’s worse. “It’s the truth. We are together. We’ve been together for a while. But we’re also professionals. I want you to accept that and allow that. Allow us to be who we are in public.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Florentino was shaking his head before Cristiano even finished, “I can't do that Cris.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">They’re staring each other down, each one willing the other to crumble, turn away, blink, show weakness of any kind. There’s not much that Cris has to bargain with right now, but he’s still got one card he can still put down:
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Then I'm not going to play on Sunday.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Florentino’s brows furrow in incredulity. “That's not an option, Cristiano. You don't get to give me an ultimatum. For once, you need to think about the needs of the team before your whims. No player is bigger than Real Madrid, and that includes you.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano fumbles, “Fábio is not a whim.” It’s embarrassing that that’s all he can come up with now, but it’s like all the fight left him every time he was shot down, until he had nothing left to defend himself with.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“You know that's not the point here. You’re playing this Sunday, Fábio is not. End of story.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">They’re locking eyes again, but this time it’s different. The defiance is gone and Cris is looking back sullen and angry, and Florentino has that note of authority in his eyes, the ‘I-have-spoken-and-you-will-obey’ look.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cris is the first to turn away, and Florentino relaxes.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">The Portuguese sighs, “So, what now? I play against Granada, OK. But what about Fábio? When does he get to play?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“We can discuss that after his ban gets lifted,” Florentino says with a tone of finality.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">The shrill sound of the phone ringing cuts through the dangerously tense atmosphere. Florentino says a quick “Excuse me” as he turns to pick it up, polite as always even though his tone is cold. He’s being summoned back down to the media room for some more business.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano stands up, legs and back feeling stiff, a sad, heavy pit in his stomach. Florentino sees him to the door. They walk down the hall and take the elevator together in silence, the older man seeming as calm and unflappable as always with that little ‘cordial’ half-smile still on his face, while Cris avoids looking in his general direction.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">He barely greets Michael Essien, Mourinho's new signing. He remembers him from when they faced each other in the Premier League, him in Manchester and Essien with Chelsea. Michael was always a friendly guy, but Cris can’t bring himself to muster up more than a half-smile and handshake for him and his relatives.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">He drives home quietly, no music on, mind blank. He’d brought the Aventador because he didn’t give a fuck about being seen; let the whole city see him for all he cared. Now he wishes he’d brought the Audi and was able to go unnoticed. The spectacular failure of his discussion with Florentino has left him miserable. In the same way that he rehashes all of his mistakes after a match, now that he’s driving away he’s thinking of all the things he should have said, the ways he should have replied, the points he should have made. He swallows down the lump in his throat and the feeling of inadequacy. He just wants to go home.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">~*~
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">He finds Fábio poolside, along with his son. The two are relaxing, splayed out on the pool chairs getting some sun. Junior is covered from head to toe in a light sheen of sunscreen (Fábio was always super protective of his skin) and was curled up against Marosca the way Cris himself liked to, using the big golden dog as a comfy pillow. Fábio is on the pool chair next to Junior, sprawled out half-asleep in just his swim trunks (he’s never been a short shorts type of guy, much to Cris’s dismay).
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano just stands there by the glass doors, looking out at his little family, a surge of love making his heart swell. He tries to see what Florentino sees, trying to find the evil or the wrongness in how happy this makes him feel. He can’t find it though, can’t see anything in this image of his lover and his son except perfection.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cris walks over to Fábio’s chair and kneels down. He picks up the other man’s limp arm and wraps it around himself as he presses his face into Fábio’s shoulder. Fábio startles awake, not having meant to have fallen into a light sleep while he was supposed to be watching Junior. He curls his arm tighter around his lover’s shoulders once he realizes who it is.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Hey,” Fábio croaks out, “you just get home?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cris says nothing, just pulls his lower lip between his teeth and scrunches his face up. Alarm bells ring for Fábio; that’s Cris’s ‘I’m-really-upset-and-I’m-not-OK’ face.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Cris? What’s wrong, meu amor?” Cris just presses his face harder against Fábio’s shoulder, shaking his head. His shoulders are trembling. Fábio sits up and wraps another arm around Cris and pulling him closer, making a little shield with his body the way he wants to do in real life, shield Cris from everything and anyone out to hurt him. “It’s gonna be OK, Cris. Remember? It’s gonna be OK,” Fábio rambles, trying for comforting but not even believing it himself.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cris keeps shaking his head, as if to say, ‘No, Fábio, it’s not. It’s not OK, but I’m going to try to fix this for you even if it costs me.’
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">~*~
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">The game against Granada goes smoothly, and even though it wasn’t pretty, a win is a win. And for it being a rare game in which he didn’t even want to be playing, Cristiano’s own performance was spectacular. There were moments of brilliance, where the team was finally gelling together and regaining last season’s rhythm. There were also moments when it became obvious that they had more work ahead of them if they were going to try to reclaim all the titles they had won.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">When Cristiano scores, it's bittersweet. The kick was full of frustration and adrenaline, and when the ball crossed into the net at such a sharp angle, the fans went wild. Their reaction makes Cris look up. He sees the fans up in the stands screaming in jubilation, dressed in white with signs and banners, and wonders, 'Would you still be cheering if you really knew about me?' The thought alone is enough to make his head drop and shoulders slump.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">His teammates run to him grinning with exhilaration, but he doesn't celebrate with them.
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mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">~*~
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano scores his brace and Pipita notches in a third goal to give Madrid its first win of the new season. But Cris has been in this town long enough to know that the press isn’t going to be focusing on that.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">He enters the mixed zone with his head high but eyes downcast. Journalists and cameramen press against the barrier to get as close to him as they can, holding out their microphones.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">"Do you want me to talk?" he asks. It's a dumb question, because the answer is always 'of course', but Cris isn't even sure if he wants to talk. He heads over and almost rolls his eyes as he hears the inevitable first question.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin"> "You’ve finally scored again, scored two goals, but you did not celebrate them. Why?"
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">"Uh... because..." Cris hesitates. Now’s his chance to back out. His lack of celebration was intended as a message to Florentino, one that he thinks the man heard loud and clear. He could leave it at that and leave with the Seleção tomorrow on a bittersweet note. But he remembers that tomorrow he’ll be leaving with Fábio. Fábio, who’ll play for Portugal, but not for Madrid because Madrid is a club that will threaten him, that will refuse to stand up for him, that would rather see him on the bench than anywhere near Cristiano. Cris is not thinking of what is best for the club right now, because the club is sure as hell not thinking about what is best for him. Right now, he’s thinking that he wants to see Florentino sweat.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">"Well…” he answers, “Maybe I'm a little sad. That’s the only reason. When I don’t celebrate my goals it’s because I’m sad." He can see all their eyes lighting up at his words, the prospect of this new breaking story to run during international break exciting to them and they lean forward, crowding him.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Why?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">He shrugs. “The people know why.” A murmur rises through the crowd.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Is it about the other day,” someone speaks up, “Because of the UEFA award?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano almost scoffs. He hasn’t even thought about the award since his meeting yesterday. It’s the furthest thing on his mind, actually. “No, it’s not about that. That’s the least of it all. There are other things more important than that.” Much more important things.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Cristiano! Wh-”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“I’m not going to talk about it anymore,” he cuts her off, trying to control the situation. “The people know why.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Is it personal or professional?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano hesitates, debating how to answer. Technically, the answer is ‘both’; this is a personal matter that has become a professional issue. But if he says ‘personal’, it’ll only make him look bad, like a whiny kid who’s having problems with his girlfriend or something. If he answers ‘professional’, however, then it becomes a club issue, and all hell breaks loose.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Professional.”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">A reporter actually asks him about the match, bless her soul. Cris half-heartedly discusses his latest record-breaking goal scoring figure, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the crowd of impatient journalists waiting to get back to ‘the real story’.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Cristiano! Are you mad at the people who criticized your form? Who are you mad at?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Cristiano blinks. “No one.” He never said he was mad. Already, right in front of him, the press is changing the story. He can hear the voice of Jorge Mendes screaming in his head ‘Get out of there!” and he fidgets.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“So why do you say that people know why you’re sad?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“The people in the club.” Cris cringes internally at how that sounds. A ‘professional’ problem that the ‘people in the club’ know about that’s making him ‘sad’. He’s glad that he’s leaving for Portugal tomorrow, because he sure as hell is not looking forward to seeing the headlines he’s just created.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Can’t you tell us why you’re sad?”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“They know why. I can’t say anything else.” He’s about to turn away to leave when a voice from the crowd stops him.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Cristiano, the league is in a ten day pause for international break. With this news of your sadness, it’s going to be ten hard days for the team and the fans. If you’re sad, why-”
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">“Now it’s national team!” He cuts the journalist off almost gleefully. Sure, it’ll be ten hard days. For Florentino. “Well, I’m not going to say any more.” He turns and walks away, ducking his head as he leaves the mixed zone, dozens of chattering confused journalists in his wake.
minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Batang;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin">Mission accomplished.
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