Off the Deep End (Cristiano Ronaldo / Lionel Messi)

Chapter 22: Dark Thoughts

Saturday 25th April 2015

Today, it was exactly a year since Tito died. This thought and the feeling of sadness attached to it had followed Leo all day and he could hear Tito's voice and final words, when they met the last time, six days before his death, ringing in his ears like he was speaking right next to him.

'Please, promise to me once thing, Leo', he had said, his voice weakened by the force of the horrible disease. 'That no matter what, you will never leave Barcelona. Stay. That's the only thing I ask from you.'

And Leo had promised him that, as far as it was up to him, he would never leave. Tito was the one who believed in him from the very beginning, even in those times, when things weren't going so well and he had been almost on the verge of giving up. He didn't really start all that often as a child, often ended up sitting on the bench, watching, how the bigger and stronger boys would conquer the stage. And it was Tito, who would speak to the manager, urging him to give the little Argentinian youngster more playing time to prove his worth and skills.

Without Tito, who knows, if he had ever got the chance.

The past few days had definitely not been the easiest he had ever seen. Outside the training hours he had mostly spent time with Neymar in the Brazilian's house, playing FIFA and learning to play poker and getting to know way too many Neymar's friends, who seemed to come and go from his house as they pleased. Some of them seemed to be curious as they found him there, but luckily considerate enough not to ask any questions and Leo was happy they helped him to distract his mind from the dark clouds that threatened to eclipse it from time to time. Also, he had spent long hours training alone, especially polishing his free kick technique.

But today, they were at the away team dressing room of the Nuevo Estadio de Cornellá-El Prat – RCD Espanyol's home stadion – preparing themselves for the upcoming Derbi barceloní.

"If we get the three points, we will be five points ahead of Real, let's not forget that, guys. Three points closer to the championship! That's what we want, right? We are the best team in Barcelona and we deserve it, they might be delusional and think otherwise, but let's shove that confidence up their arses" Geri cheered as usual, clapping his hands fervently and walking in circles in the room, dressed in his bright orange away kit.

"Geri, watch your mouth just a little bit, would you?" Xavi, their captain, warned.

"No, no, no let Geri talk, I'd like to hear, where this is going", Jordi Alba sneered, putting on shin pads.

"Do you really think it's going somewhere? Be honest, has it ever happened, Jordi?" Sergio Roberto sarcastically pointed out, on his way to bathroom.

"Can you please stop, I can't hear my own thoughts, for crying out loud", Busi complained, gesturing with his hand in a frustrated manner.

In the corner of the room, Leo was slowly pulling up his socks, silently observing the chaos around him. Neymar returned from the bathroom, where he had apparently been grooming his hair to perfection, and busted out some samba steps, laughing, before sitting down next to Leo and ruffling his hair.

"Let's make a bet", he suggested, half-serious. "Whoever scores first today can ask the other for a favor of choice."

Leo raised his eyebrow and fixed his hair.

"A favor? What kind of favor?"

"Whatever, the winner can define it. That's the point!" Neymar grinned slyly. "For example, I can order you to run around my house naked or make you polish all of my leather shoes. It can be whatever."