Journey || Erik Durm

♂

ERIK:

                     "YOU'RE sure this is her strand of hair and not somebody else's?" Marco inquired as we lounged in his hotel room, my heart stammering erratically inside of my chest. I nodded, recalling the conversation I had with him this morning:

A sudden sense of urgency and tension creeped into the vintage atmosphere, creeping subtly like a silent breeze on a sweltering summer day. Everything that happened in my life seemed to revolve around Charlotte, I'd thought as Marco had brought her up, but I hadn't known the immensity of her influence until my best friend pulled me out of the diner, whisking both of us into a place more secretive.

He said, "You remember that day when Coach called the two of us back in his room, asking us which one of us was closer to Charlotte? He asked us about her last name and whatever, but we said that we didn't know and then you left?"

I nodded knowingly, reminiscent of that day. How could I forget it?

"Well, we had a long and serious talk, Erik," Marco continued. I'd recalled the elongated nature of their discussion. Marco and Jogi had been in his office for hours on end, chatting even after I'd broken down in front of Marco, gotten drinks with him in a local pub, then, at last, returning there.

Marco continued, "I have been realizing now that it never should've been me who lingered after he'd asked which of us was closer. Because whether I liked it or not, it was you. There was always you. It had always been you."

"Marco," I began with the intent of passing sympathy. "I'm sure that's not true—"

"I didn't come here for pity," he interjected with a mysterious resolve. "I came here because Jogi told me something important that night that he should have told you instead."

"You're not giving me much to work with."

"The reason Jogi was so interested in Charlotte was because she reminded him of a woman he'd left when he was younger. They had been married a while with a recent daughter, and after seeing Charlotte in the press, he'd felt some sort of weird, unexplainable tether between him and her."

"What?" I conjured in spite of the confusion building up within. Pausing briefly, barely registering the information and failing to utter a word, I glanced at Marco for verification, because my esophagus had been drained, becoming dry.

It crossed my mind that Marco might have been inventing a seam of lies to toy with my sanity, but then I stared into him, seeing the sincerely outlined on his jutted face. Without hesitating, I dismissed the growing paranoia.

"Wow," was all I could say as Marco nodded.

"Yeah."

"So, what then?" I pressed, unsure of what I was meant to do with this newfound information. What did it have to do with me?

"Jogi wants to take a paternity test," he explained sheepishly. "He needs something containing her DNA, like a strand of hair or something she's gotten her fingerprints on."

I blinked.

"Please, Erik. Let's put all the anger and betrayal aside for a moment and do this for coach. This is major, don't you see?"

"This is insane."

Marco pressed his palms together, releasing a sigh. "Help him out. I don't know what else I am supposed to do. I wasn't supposed to tell a soul."