How hard can it be to fall in love with a football player when you're afraid of footballs...?
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Helping out her best friend by playing the lead in that music video project for university had seemed like an easy enough feat for art student Lorelai...
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»Wow,« Jane commented instead of greeting Lorelai. »Your mood has changed drastically from crying your eyes out these past few days to smiling right now. Let me tell you, it's only a little bit creepy! Wanna tell your besty what happened?«
Lorelai took off her jacket and threw it on the empty couch seat in the common room of her apartment. Then, with a content sigh, she plopped down beside her best friend, who had made herself comfortable on the couch at Lorelai and Diego's apartment.
The TV was showing a documentary about fair trade. The topic fitted Jane's new task of making a publicity video for that fair trade store; the originally Irish girl had finally signed the contract a few days ago and was now focussed entirely on her new video project.
Didn't mean she hadn't had the time to be the bestest best friend in the world these past few days.
After Neymar's exit on Wednesday and the fall-out that followed, Lorelai had pretty much let herself break down. She could only vaguely remember Jane put her arms around her and lead her back to the café, where the counter had been blissfully empty of both Fernando and Stella. Miguel had told them they'd left as soon as Lorelai had run out to go after Neymar. Lorelai didn't care — that was another matter altogether and far from the top of her list of things to clear up.
She didn't know how she'd made it home that day. She did however remember vividly that she'd cried for what felt like years, lying on her bed, with Jane hugging her close and patting her on the back, doing everything in her power to console her friend. Not judging her, not rubbing it in, and she'd refrained from saying »I told you so«, even though Lorelai knew it was ghosting around in the redhead's mind — and, honestly, Jane had every right to say just that.
Because really, what had she been thinking these past few weeks?
Why hadn't she listened to Jane? She'd warned her about this, told her this decision of hers was going to one day bite her in the ass. And here it was, taking a big munch out of her behind.
But that's what she did whenever things got too serious too fast, or whenever she felt like everything was starting to get out of her control — she ran and hid and pretended that nothing was the matter, pretended she was in full control, even though that couldn't be any farther away from the truth. That's what she did when she moved out of her home, that's what she did when her sister had died — that's what she always did.
She remembered her dogs sitting in front of the bed, whimpering and looking at their mistress in concern, feeling her pain as if it where their own, even though they didn't understand it. Jane had allowed them on the bed then, to cuddle with Lorelai. The presence of her dogs had helped her gain somewhat control of her senses again, enough to talk to Jane about— well... everything: every thought she'd ever had regarding Neymar, every feeling she hadn't allowed herself to admit, every stupid minute of that stupid date with Fernando that should never have happened, every detail she cared to remember at the café.
