Trials

Chapter 2: Fate Line

I was staring at my reflection in the mirror, checking if my face was still okay after some drinks and, specifically, after I bumped into Luka Modrić in a most shameful way.

Of course I knew who he was - I'm Brazilian, just born into a country that breathes football.

But that's ok, just another day living in Europe. I texted Natalie from my phone, frantically typing the gossip that there were some famous people in the place, and adjusted my hair and fixed my lipstick after a few minutes of self reflection and felt ready to go back to my original spot, with my friend, the bartender and a big glass of water. I wonder if Nat would know Luka and his friends, because she's an employee from Real Madrid and probably sees these people a lot, everyday. I don't know if the gossip would be so thrilling for her, but for me it was very funny.

Just when I'm about to leave the room, a girl stomped out from the door, talking very loudly and crying at the same time, followed by two friends who tried to calm her down, without much success. She was visibly nervous and bumped against my shoulder, sending my purse flying across the floor.

I froze at my spot and watched the whole show, and soon I realized that this was about her ex boyfriend, who, apparently, was in the place with another girl.

"He promised, you know. He promised!" she yelled at her friend's face, while all the mascara from her lashes fell down her cheeks, leaving a nasty trace of disappointment and sadness, mixed with anger and tears. I felt bad for her, because a broken heart is something that I didn't wish for most of all the people. It really hurts.

The girls were trying to comfort her, although this seemed really impossible.

"You knew it, Amara, that he doesn't deserve you. I bet you knew it, from the bottom of your heart." one tried to say.

"He showed this toxic aura since from the beginning, we tried to warn you, girl" the other one tells while wiping her friend's tears with a tissue.

The Amara girl started to talk in what looked like a foreign language, because, again, she was mixing all her feelings and trying to talk at the same time. The big commotion touched my heart, and I, myself, tried to calm her down, too, forgetting completely about the Luka Modric thing.

"Hey. Please, don't cry over this guy that I didn't even know, but already despise him. If you're gonna cry, please, let it be tears of joy, or pleasure, or anything good, but not sad tears. I don't know you, but a girl doesn't deserve a broken heart, and if your friends are trying to warn you about him, listen to them. They know you better than he can, I bet".

When I finished my discourse, all three of them were looking at me as if I had an extra head popping out from my shoulder, but I chose to ignore them. I did what I had to do.

"I try..." she sobbed and then sniffed "but it's hard".

"I know, I know" I came closer and rested my hand upon her shoulders "but you can do it. If he is in this restaurant and you can't bear the sight of him with another one, just leave with your girls to another place".

"She 's right, Amara. Let's get out of here" the friend said.

She kept her eyes glued on mine for five seconds, and then blinked her tears away and nodded, sobbing one more time.

"Okay. Um... Thank you. You know. For the support" she tells, shyly.

"You can do it. I'm rooting for you" I smiled fondly at her and, a few moments later, the group left the bathroom, leaving me alone with a sense of justice that didn't bloom in my heart for a long time. But a girl's thing is a girl thing, and I felt happy for the quickly good advice that I gave her, and hoped that everything works well in the future.