Misconstrue

"I'm the midnight-to-EIGHT man."

I stare blankly at the Netflix homepage, the thought of watching a movie to calm my raging nerves flies out the window as soon as I spot the various titles. I believe it's too early to be watching some unrealistic and cringe-worthy romance movie at the moment. 

So, I close the laptop with a sigh and reach for my phone, the many silenced notifications look back at me but I pay no attention to them as I head to the kitchen. I had yet another eventful shift yesterday, but for some reason my body wouldn't allow me sleep in on yet another blessed day off. 

I flick the switch of Ben's rather lavish electric kettle then lean on the counter as I open up the messaging app on my phone. I scroll through the unread texts with sheer boredom coursing through my veins. I normally say that I'm bad at texting, but the truth is, I'm not really interested in making conversation with anyone sometimes. 

The open session beings at noon.

I furrow my eyebrows at Emilio's message. I actually thought that he had forgotten all about the invitation he extended to me on behalf of his teammate. And if I must be honest, I'm not really interested in sitting and watching a group of men run around an open field. 

I hum at the thought. The very image pops in my head and I begin to see myself sitting in the stands while hot, eligible bachelors run around in shorts. I smile widely, the electric kettle is immediately forgotten as I sprint to my room.

I like looking at men. It doesn't matter where I am, or what I'm doing, if I see a good-looking man, I'll admire him. This is the exact reason Ben hates going to the mall with me. But I know what I'm about, if I find a man attractive - and all men are attractive in their own way - I'll feast my eyes until he's out of sight. 

And I've been feeling down for the past few weeks, and it's not like the feeling that I normally get when my days are shit. My mind sometimes strays to David when it isn't tearing itself apart from within. I tell myself that I should give him some space since I don't want him to feel like his enemy. 

But if I must be honest, I can't help but feel as if I let him down. I'm not the strongest person mentally so I know for sure that I'm not the ideal candidate who can give him the help he needs. What I do know is that I'm quite supportive, and I wouldn't look down on him for his life choices. 

And I know that the both of us haven't known each other for a long while, so that could be the reason behind his reluctance to open up. I get that, I really do. I can only hope that he's safe wherever the hell he is. 

Hours later I find myself in Anfield, dressed in a pair of high-waist wide-legged denim jeans and Ben's favourite Ramones t-shirt (it looks better on me anyway). I look around the sidewalk with a nervous gulp and multiple sighs. I don't even know exactly why I'm so nervous, but at the same time, it would be a mystery if I wasn't feeling nervous.

"Balei!" I smile naturally as Timothy exits through the front doors. I waddle childishly over to him as I head straight for his opened arms.

Damn he smells nice!

"I haven't seen you in forever." He smiles sheepishly as we pull away. 

"Yeah, the Club's been keeping me busy - oh." He reaches into his back pocket and hands me a lanyard. "This is for you."

I hang the pass around my neck. "Is there anything I should look forward to?"

He shakes his head and we step in sync towards the door. "Nothing out of the ordinary, the squad's here, along with a few reporters."

I look up at him as we enter the building. "Do you guys have open sessions regularly?"

"Nah." He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his chinos and I follow him obediently. "We have two new transfers this season, the open session is just to give them more media exposure I guess."