[ thirty seven ]
I didn't see James the first couple of days back at the club. Most of my time was spent in the offices, running errands and preparing questions for interviews that would be recorded in the following days. I would be interviewing Marcelo, Isco, Sergio, and Cristiano, and that made me nervous. They were all important footballers in Real Madrid, as well as on their national teams.
Over the next few weeks that followed, we recorded the interviews, got all the visual editing done, and posted them on the team's youtube channel. By the time each of the sixty minute interview sessions were posted, a month had gone by.
My contact with James had been minimal.
Every time we saw each other at the club building, we were polite enough to wave hello and maybe even smile at each other, but that was it. I continued with my responsibilities at the club and tried to make it seem as though nothing bothered me. The truth was I was close to bursting into tears each time I saw him, not just because of the betrayal, but because James still looked a wreck. Seeing him that way in person was difficult.
When I was back in Colombia and we had broken up, at least I could run away, shield myself from it all. In Madrid, that was impossible.
We were already in the month of February when I was given an envelope with my next assignment. The video would be about tourists and their knowledge on one of our players. I would go around Madrid, targeting people who looked like tourists and I would ask them questions about a footballer on the team. But the footballer would be there too.
My eyes scanned the bottom of the paper to see who I would be filming with. I wasn't even surprised when I saw the name 'James Rodriguez' written on there.
The two of us had gone an entire month without interacting with each other, it was only a matter of time before destiny brought us together again.
James was going to be granted a day off from practice just to get this filmed, which meant they anticipated we would be out on the streets of Madrid for several hours, just to get everything exactly as we wanted it.
-
On the morning of filming, I arrived at the club to meet up with James and my camera man. We merely greeted each other, mumbling a few words, and avoiding each other's gazes from time to time. My camera man eyed us suspiciously, but said nothing about our strange behavior.
Once we had everything we needed, we got into a car and drove into the city square.
Since it was too early in the morning to begin, we parked on the street and went to find a place to have breakfast. We walked down the street and stopped at the first place we saw. Right outside, there was a news stand where the article of the day had Giselle on the cover. As I got a closer look at the newspaper, I saw that the article was announcing her pregnancy and that her child's father was James. That news broke my heart, but there were no more tears left in me to cry out.
It didn't have to matter to me anymore, we were separated.
Breakfast with James was the most awkward thing in my life. We were both quiet and snuck glances at each other, while our camera man maintained most of the conversation. He kept trying to get us both to talk, but it was no use.
We spent about an hour having breakfast before we set out into the city square where it was easy to find tourists. Most of them were carrying around cameras and were taking pictures in front of monuments. Our first target was a man and a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. Both looked middle aged and wore shirts that proudly displayed the flag of the UK on it. "Excuse me," I asked them with a smile as James and I approached them. Once the camera was on and pointed at me, I had learned to pretend I was happy. It was something more difficult for James to accomplish. "My name is Arista and I'm from the spanish football club Real Madrid."
"Oh," The woman said, "That's where Cristiano Ronaldo plays."
I nodded, "Yes. But I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions about a different player; James Rodriguez. Do you know him?"
The man was the one to speak this time. "I've heard of him. He's from Mexico, right?"
Next to me, James stifled a laugh. But he said nothing.
"Have you watched him play?" I asked them.
Both nodded at my question.
"We have. It was a long time ago though. We don't really watch La Liga, we're more into Premier League." The woman told me. But they didn't seem to recognize James, who was standing next to me, which meant they were confusing him with someone else. My best guess was they thought he was Javier Hernandez, who no longer played at Real Madrid.
"From what you have seen, what do you think of him?" I said into the microphone.
"He's good." The man said. "Very skilled player and had amazing luck when scoring goals. It was a shame he was on the bench a lot though."
"And who is this lad?" The woman gestured to James with a polite smile.
James extended his hand for her to shake, and she did just that. "My name is James Rodriguez, and I'm from Colombia, actually."
They both laughed, but they sounded embarrassed.
"Oh God," The woman sighed, placing her hand on James' shoulder. "I'm sorry about that. We confused you with another boy on the team."
"Javier Hernandez." James guessed with a half-smile. Though we were having a good time, he seemed like the last thing he wanted to do was this.
"Chicharito." I added his nickname.
"Yes!" The man pointed with his index finger. "Chicharrrrrrrito." He repeated, putting too much emphasis on the letter r. But in spanish, it was pronounced with a soft r sound rather than a hard r sound.
"He doesn't play on the team anymore." I pointed out.
The two of us thanked them for being part of our video and moved onto the next person. This one was a young woman who looked like she was hispanic, but also seemed like she was a tourist. She had long black hair pulled back into a pony tail and coffee brown eyes.
A smile formed on her lips when she saw us approaching.
"You're James Rodriguez." She said to us in Spanish.
"No I'm not." James quickly said, a blush creeping onto his cheeks when someone recognized him, and we had to move onto the next person.
We questioned five more people that day, four of them didn't recognize James, but claimed he was a great player. When he would reveal himself to be James Rodriguez, they would laugh and ask to take a picture with him.
The car ride back to the training grounds was quiet once more.
James waved a quick goodbye to us and went to find his car. We went to put the cameras and other supplies back in the offices and then I went back out to my car, heading for my apartment. Now there was a bit over two months left before the ultimatum James gave. And I still didn't know if I would show up or not.
Did our love deserve a final chance?
-
so giselle is preggo. there is just so much drama surrounding them. and i want to post another update after this. maybe i'll write it and post it until tomorrow to build suspense. haha. but thank you all so much for reading. there are less and less updates left before this finally ends.
-clary xx
