Once More. | Manuel Neuer

Chapter Eight.

"Mesut, leave them be," Bastian spoke calmly as Mesut stood up.
"No, she's my best friend," he stated.
"Yes, but she needs to talk to Manuel, now. He deserves an explanation."

Mesut cursed loudly and shook his head. They didn't know Arabella like he did. They didn't know what could happen if she felt trapped. Only he and Cristiano knew how Arabella could be, and if she crumbled in front of Manuel he would only make it worse.
Not listening to his friends any longer Mesut stormed out of the restaurant.

As he stood outside he frantically looked left and right, but did not see the two anywhere. He cursed under his breath, he had no idea where they were and worse; he had no idea how Arabella was doing.

With some quick thinking Mesut grabbed his phone from his back pocket and dialed the girls number. However it just rang, and rang, and rand until finally it went to VoiceMail.
Mesut groaned and reluctantly dialed Cristiano's number.

It only took one ring before Mesut heard the Portugese man questioning why he was calling.

"Cristiano, something bad happened," Mesut mumbled.
Crisriano didn't waste a second and immediately made Mesut regret his decision of calling.

"You fucking piece of shit, I swear to all that is holy I will choke you with my own to hands!"
The Portugese went on a rant, knowing that Mesut would only call if Arabella was in trouble, and Mesut held the phone away from his ear.

"Yea, well if you're done cursing me; Ara is gone and I can't find her."
There was a pause on the other side of the line.
"What do you mean she's gone!?" Cristiano snapped.
"We we're at the restaurant and Manuel walked in-"
Mesut was rudely interrupted by another one of Cristiano's outbursts.
"What the fuck do you mean Manuel walked in!? I swear to Jesus Christ himself, when I get my hands on you Mesut I will-"
"Break my kneecaps with a pipe, yeah yeah," Mesut spoke annoyed. "But Arabella ran off and Manuel went after her and now I can't find them."
"Alright I'm on my way, just try to find her and keep your phone with you," Cristiano spoke, immediately springing in to action.
"Okay, will do."

Mesut quickly started walking. He had no idea where he was going, but he figured the chance of him spotting them was bigger if he actually went looking for them.
The more he walked around, the more he started panicking. He knew what could happen if Arabella had one of her.. 'episodes'.
Mesut never knew what to call it. Episodes was a word he never found fitting, but it was the only word that described the behaviour fittingly.

With every step he took he started remembering all the times he found her- her hair clenched between her fists, her body shaking. The first time it had happened Mesut had been as scared as Arabella was.
That night, after she had taken a pill given to her by Cristiano, Arabella had gone to bed and the Real Madrid star had explained it all.
Cristiano had told him about how her mind would sometimes make her believe things that weren't real. How her mood could switch and she wouldn't be able to even crack a smile. It had been heartbreaking for Mesut because he only knew Arabella as the bubbly girl that he loved with all his heart.
However, the hardest part for Mesut was when Cristiano told him about the suicide attempts. About how many times Cristiano had found her after she had purposely harmed herself.
It had been one of the hardest conversations Mesut ever had with Cristiano. After he found out how awful Arabella could feel about herself Mesut had cried. It seemed so unfair to him that a person he found so amazing, so love-giving, and selfless, felt the need to do such horrible things out of selfhatred and sadness.
After that he and Arabella had grown closer. Yes, when she found out Cristiano had told him everything, she had been upset. She had every right to be, as it was not Cristiano's place to tell Mesut, but it proved to have been the right thing to do, because ever since the two had been inseparable.

Mesuts train of thought was interrupted when he heard the all too familiar voice cry out an apology. Looking around quickly he searched for the girl, but did not find her.
"Arabella!?" He called, but the only thing he received back were strange glances from the people who passed him.
"Arabella!?" He tried, more desperate this time.

"Mesut!"
Turning around quickly Mesut was met by his German colleague. His blue eyes were tear-stained and full of panic as he looked at him. "She's here."
With that Manuel turned around and walked into an alleyway.
Mesut followed quickly and soon saw the Dutchwoman. She was sat up against the wall as she cried.
"God, Ara, I'm so sorry," Mesut mumbled as he quickly crawled down next to his best friend.

Manuel watched helplessly as Mesut lowered his voice and started talking to Arabella, something that visibly calmed her down.

Even though the situation he was in, Manuel zoned out.

Arabella had apologised. She had told him everything he had wanted to hear from her for so long. She had told him why and she had confessed how he had made her feel, but for some reason things did not feel like his dreams always felt. No, there was no happy giddy feeling in Manuel's stomach or a stupid smile on his face. In fact; his heart was still aching, if not more then ever before. Even though they were close enough to touch it felt as if they were worlds apart. 

But heartache wasn't the only thing Manuel felt. No, he was angry. He was hopelessly angry, the kind of anger that boils inside you, making you feel fysically sick, but won't come out. Arabella had just left him without as much as an explaination, leaving Manuel to wonder what on earth he did wrong. Manuel had doubted himself for so long, overthinking every single moment he had spent with Arabella. But now, after all, it seemed that it was all a selfish decision made by a girl that he -even though he loved her more than he had ever thought he could love someone- should have never given his heart to.

Manuel was fuming, his thoughts only throwing oil onto his quickly growing fire, as he looked at Arabella and Mesut. The young woman, who had finally calmed down enough to conversate with, stared up at Manuel as Mesut spoke to her. 

Believe him when he'd say that there was nothing he'd wanted more than to drop down on his knees and hug her, to tell her everything would be okay and that he loved her, but Manuel couldn't bring himself to do it. Now that he wasn't wondering about what he did wrong and about how Arabella was doing anymore, his anger finally had a place in his head. 

"Manuel, I'm sorry," Arabella spoke. Her voice was barely above a whisper. 

"Don't," he snapped, his eyes diverting anywhere but the two friends. "It's what you wanted, isn't it?!" 

In his motion of turning around to walk off, Manuel hit the wall with his fist. And when I say hit, I mean he fucking left crossed it. His tears of sadness now were tears of anger and desperation. He had spent these past two years praying that things would turn out fine, but the realisation had hit him like a brick: thing would never go back to how they once were.