In the spotlight

3

Matteo Rodriguez

"Please fasten your seatbelts!" I heard the stewardess state through the microphone in front of the plane. That woke me up from my sleep, completely unaware of my surroundings for the first few seconds.

"Here." Marco spoke up from next to me, handing me my seatbelt.

"Thanks." I thanked my friend and grabbed the seatbelt, driving it in front of my lower stomach, and buckled it in, fastening it just as much as it was comfortable. The plane slowly began to approach land as the Italian mountains became visible in the distance.

I love Italy; the snowy mountains, the green meadows, and the beaches are just something else in this country. And don't even get me started with their food, and of course, their football. AC Milan is a great team; no wonder they are in the Champions League, but out of the few times I have met them, they only beat us once. This time it won't happen otherwise, and I will make sure of that.

As I felt the landing gear hitting the concrete of the air highway, I let go of my seatbelt and stood up from my chair. I put my headphones in my backpack and put my training sweater back, zipping it up in the front. My teammates started getting ready as well, and just a few moments later, everybody exited the aircraft with suitcases and sports bags all over the place.

We had a separate fenced corridor for ourselves since entering the public terminal would mean many risks for our team. Especially since every one of us is wearing the white Real Madrid tracksuit, and white attracts looks.

We passed through the huge gates, between the black ropes. As soon as we entered the building, paparazzi photographers started pushing their cameras into our faces, blinding us with flashing lights.

I have never liked this part of fame. I didn't mind the huge crowd in the stadium, obviously; I never denied anybody when they asked for pictures and of course, I never turned down a party full of celebrities. But listening to these people bomb me with questions completely unrelated to football and enduring patiently as they are blinding me with their cameras like a pack of hungry hyenas jumping onto their prey.

We were strictly forbidden from talking to them while the team was together, especially before matches. The only time we could address the public while working was on press conferences, if the manager allowed us to do so. Other than that, you cannot avoid them in your private life, but I usually don't address them, even if I am in civil.

Nobody says a word to anyone with a camera or a microphone; instead, we were speedwalking towards the exit, where a large bus with a huge Real Madrid logo on the side is already waiting for us.

Some of the staff members were busy loading up our baggage on the lower side of the bus, while the rest of us were getting on the bus itself. I quickly occupied a seat next to Marco, but no matter how hard I tried, he managed to beat me to the seat next to the window.

The bus slowly swerved out of the airport as we found ourselves driving in huge traffic on a highway, maybe before entering downtown Milan.

"Listen up, boys!" The coach clapped his hands together, and under the blink of an eye, everybody quieted down. Messing around with the coach has never turned out well; the last time a kid from the youth squad mimicked him, he ended up running until he passed out on the pitch.

"There is something I need you to know, so listen here carefully because your career might depend on it." He leaned forward, supporting himself on the two seats next to him. We stood there shocked. What can be so important that our career depends on it?

"There have been some complications with our hotel rooms." He blurted it out quickly. Some of us looked at each other in confusion. Usually, when we travel away for a match, the board books the entire hotel for at least one night in order to avoid any kind of disturbance. Resting is key, and if I have to spend these nights with other people on vacation running around and annoying me, I will head back to Madrid without any second thoughts.

"The hotel misunderstood our desired dates by one week; therefore, we are not going to be alone during our stay." The coach said, and I hopelessly hit my head on the soft material covering the seat in front of me.

"Turns out, Milan fashion week is happening right now, so you do the math." He nodded when I snapped up my head once again. No people on vacation, no kids screaming at me in the halls, no paparazzi storming the building?

"I don't mind sharing my bed with some models." Vini exclaimed from not so far away from me, as some of us chuckled at his statement.

"Those people are representing the top fashion houses in the world, son." The coach warned him with an intimidating look on his face, which instantly silenced him along with everyone else on the bus.

"We cannot afford to insult them in any way, especially not by a kid." He snapped, and we all knew that this was really serious. Coach was absolutely right, though; one bad word could put an end to a sponsorship on our part.

"I hear one bad word, and anyone who made it is flying back to Madrid to sit on the bench until the next season. Clear?" He looked around the bus, making eye contact with everyone. Nobody dared to talk or even move; you could have heard a needle drop.

"Alright." He clapped again once more, and everyone sighed in relief, welcoming the fact that we were allowed to breathe once again. "It is currently 10 in the morning; your travel day is free as usual. We are starting tomorrow at 12." He turned around and took a seat in the front.

"God damn, I thought I was about to die." Vini sighed from next to me, sitting on the other side of the bus, next to Federico. "Still didn't change my mind though." He lifted up his hands next to his shoulders, wiggling his eyebrows like a lunatic as we erupted in laughter.

"We can't even go near them." I shook my head, still laughing.

"Are you surprised? Would you let Vini talk to a model?" Marco leaned forward next to me to get a clearer sight, only to find himself facing an unimpressed Vinicius. We burst out laughing once again. Federico was clutching into his stomach as I was gasping for air.

"Fuck off, man, I am a magnet to the ladies." Our humiliated friend stated this before standing up and grabbing his backpack from under the seat. The bus finally arrived at our destination, parking in a huge underground garage. We got off and grabbed our suitcases as the four of us started making our way towards the huge elevator.

"I'm bored." Marco said it out of nowhere, as he was typing away on his phone once we entered the elevator. All of us could fit in comfortably even without suitcases; mirrors surrounded us, and soft music was audible through the speakers.

"Should we go to the gym?" I asked around as I ran through my hair with my left hand. I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing a small stubble appearing on my face. Note to myself: I need to shave ASAP.

"Hell yes." Marco instantly went through with my idea, but the others weren't so impressed with it. I guess it is just me and Asensio then.

"See you in 15?" He looked at me once we exited on the 5th floor. I nodded, and we parted ways in order to occupy our rooms.