In the spotlight

9

Matteo Rodriguez

"I can't wait to fall into my bed." Marco sighed as he was walking in front of me, calling an elevator from the twenty-something floor. The three musketeers, as always, exited our bus last after Vini managed to fall asleep so deeply, we couldn't even wake him up.

No wonder though; today's match was one hell of a ride, and even with 95 minutes of pushing, we could only manage to get a draw. Luckily, this was only a group stage match, because otherwise we would probably still be on that pitch, running around and shooting the penalties.

The elevator finally arrived on our floor, indicating its arrival with a tinkling sound before opening the doors in front of us. Two residents of the hotel, probably from the model squad, exited the cabin laughing but didn't even budge to say hello or something.

We switched positions with them once it was free to do so, and Marco pushed the 6th floor button since he was the closest to the panel. The doors began to close slowly, but before they could fully do so, two figures showed up behind them.

Marco was the first to react, and he held out his right hand to prevent this movement. The silver-painted and quite heavy doors slid open once again, and they quickly approached the cabin. The first person to enter was the same model guy I saw today in the underground garage, which could only mean one thing.

Her shiny blonde waves were the first to emerge from behind the tall guy as she followed her friend.

"Good evening." Xavier, with his thick accent, greeted us first as he entered.

"Hi." She, however, didn't say much and didn't even spare us a look. The girl joined us in the cabin and quickly turned her back to us, standing next to her companion. She pushed the fifth floor button as the doors began closing again and started sipping her coffee with her head resting on the silver wall of the cabin.

I realized in myself that this is not the time when I will be able to speak with her yet again, and I laid my head against the side of the elevator. After letting my eyes remain closed for a few seconds, unfamiliar words hit my ears.

The two began discussing, well, something in front of us in a completely unfamiliar language. Truth be told, it was mostly the man who talked; I only heard the blonde girl replying to him once before reaching the fifth floor.

I didn't speak anything else besides English and Spanish, but I visited France frequently because my sister is currently living there to pursue a career in fashion design. The accent and the language sounded exactly like French to me, but I couldn't tell for sure.

I cautiously watched the pair, trying to find out something—well, truly anything—about them and especially the girl. Sofia, since I already knew her name from Instagram, felt really interesting to me, and after all, she was as beautiful as no other girl I knew currently standing in front of me.

My eyes wandered around freely in the elevator, only to see both of my teammates typing away on their phones and completely blocking the outside world out. Maybe I should do the same, I thought, but the moment I tried to fish out my device from my pockets, a small commotion hit my ears.

"You wound me, sister." The brown-haired guy dramatically gasped while grabbing the hem of his shirt near where his heart was. The first English words attracted my attention, as well as everyone's next to me.

"Stop being a whore, brother." Sofia said as she rolled her eyes at him. This was the first time I could catch a glimpse of her since the beginning of this elevator ride. She was wearing the same black dress I saw earlier today, with a black leather jacket on top. Her makeup was precisely done, and the cat eyes perfectly emphasized her different colored eyes.