I - Xavi

- It’s just a phase, you can train harder.

He almost fell down the stairs that led to the locker room when he listened to his captain’s words. That was worst than his own conscience banging in his head… Joder. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to sound like that, but it did, anyways.

However, instead of falling, he just took a breath and kept going up. It was a long flight of stairs. It would be much easier to pretend all of that wasn’t happening, he was even getting there, until he entered the dressing room and felt all eyes on him. Took a even deeper breath to wash away all the thoughts heading to his locker – now this fucking locker seemed to be right in the middle of the room. He didn’t notice that, by throwing things like that, he was catching even more attention. Could this day get any worse?

- Look, Xavi...- Yeah, it could.

- Gerard… No, no. Go away. It’s not a good time.

He had the ‘Piqué’ look. And, when he wore that face, it was because nobody understood what was happening but him. Xavi pretended not to see him standing there, and focused on taking his socks off. Piqué stayed next to him, with that annoying face, as if he wanted to test his friend’s nerves, like a child. So Xavi acted like a father, as the situation asked for.

- What, Piqué? – He said, sighing.

- ¡Caramba! Are we cutting ties now? – He had an offended tone that didn’t convince anyone.

- No, it’s just not a good moment for you to be comforting me – He barely faced Gerard.

‘Piqué’ face again.

- Actually… I was going to distract you. I wasn’t even gonna say anything about the game.

It is so irritating this kind of people that shows up when you are upset and you just can’t get mad at them. You get even more upset, but not actually angry. Piqué was one of those people. And, realizing his distraction strategy wasn’t going to work, he backed away, leaving Xavi alone once more.

Alone, he could breathe normally. Of course he fooled around until everybody was out. For what he could remember, not even Sergio Ramos took so long showering during the World Cup. And the long haired brunet was the vanity champion, with the biggest hair treatment cream collection that Xavi had ever seen. But the situation asked for it. That way, he could take a bath by himself.

The water was like a therapy. It was all he needed. Silence and water. It was even magical. He completely forgot about the sucky match he played, how his teammates blamed him with their eyes, how the fans didn’t applaud him or the team. Damn, the thoughts were coming back…

He threw his arm to reach the soap. Rubbed it in his tense shoulders. He could feel there was a bad night coming. The man closed the tap and picked up the towel he left hanging over the shower division.

Xavi went to the water zone, entering the first pool, really hot, resting the towel on the edge. What was the last time he had played so poorly? Shook his head and closed his eyes, putting his head underwater. Still with his eyes closed, fumbled the wall, looking for the stairs. Finding it, emerged and sat down. To make things even better, he could feel a twinge in his right leg, in the same spot of that old injury, the most severe he ever had and the one which prevented him to play for a long time in the past.

Sometimes he wished he never got involved with football. No, that was impossible. He was born for that, it was fate. So what he really wished at times like that one was that the destiny chosen for him would have been other. He lost many things, faced many obstacles and made many sacrifices for something like that as a reward. How could he love something that much? Be so obsessed, fascinated? Even reaching the point of losing Elsa?

He backed that memory away as fast as he could. Got up and grabbed the towel. After all, that wasn’t his fault. He didn’t play for such a big team and for so long for no reason. The midfielder dried himself on his way to his taquilla. It was no accident that he was nominated for the Ballon d’Or. He wrapped the towel over his hips and stopped in front of the sinks, between the showers and the lockers. There were a lot of amazing offers, like the one from AC Milan, the one his dad didn’t get over him not accepting. He looked at his reflection, wiping his hand over his hair. He was recognized all over Spain for his work.

Xavi believed he was alone and he jumped when he was surprised looking at himself in the mirror by a tall figure. Blonde with blue eyes. No less then Gerard Piqué. The man laughed at the reaction of the shorter one. Xavi would have scolded his friend if only he wasn’t still so startled.

- Geri… you… wow, you scared me!

- ‘Geri’? Does that mean you’re better, then? – Gerard really was a good friend. He probably waited around all that time for him.

- It’s very late, what are you still doing here? – Geri raised his eyebrows. It was quite obvious Xavi’s suspicions were right – You’re not following me are you?

They both laughed and, diverting from the central post, they went to the benches where they seated every day. Exactly the same, since the seat next to his was Piqué’s. While he threw the clothes over his body, his friend stared at his hands, poking his bitten nails.

- You know, that’s a really bad habit – Xavi had finished dressing and now faced the other one with a faked half smile.

- Torturing yourself is an even worse one.

Gerard’s words didn’t make much sense. Actually, they did, but they had more than one meaning. Most things he said were ambiguous, and Xavi never knew if he should take them in the good sense, the bad sense or the literal one. Sometimes he asked himself if his friend did that on purpose. He was no fool, but he didn’t seem much… fit to plot this kind of thing, saying something like that just to make others think it over.

One way or another, Xavi always did, and those words made him feel better. Indeed he was torturing himself for no reason. Not a consistent one, at least. How could it be his fault? Everybody had bad days, even Puyol. They weren’t so frequent, but they existed.

- I waited for you because I thought maybe you wanted to talk. Or go out and forget all about this! You know I’m the king of parties. Yo soy um conejo de fuego! – It was statements like those that made Xavi believe Gerard wasn’t very fit.

- Yeah, I don’t think I’m really in the mood to go out, Geri…

- Yeah, I didn’t think you would be… – After getting to know Xavi, it didn’t take long to notice what kind of person he was.

- You know that just because there’s no game tomorrow doesn’t mean I’m going o-

- Yeah, yeah! You’re señor responsibility! So shall we talk then? – Gerard asked with a cheerful smile.

- Do I have any other option? – They both knew Piqué was one of those people who had the ability to always convince others to do what he wanted. He didn’t need to say anything for Xavi to know that the answer to his question was ‘no’.

The defender got up, calling his friend with his head. He followed him through the door, taking the stairs that led to the parking lot. The way was fairly long, and every time they got out of the stadium together they went through that route talking.

- So, how are you feeling, nano? – Gerard put his arm around his friend’s shoulder.

- What do you think? – Maybe that was a little harsh. Xavi looked up with a regretful face – Sorry, I just… I’m better, really. But it’s just so…

- Frustrating? – That sounded more like a statement than a question.

- Well…

- Disappointing? – The blondie inquired.

- I…

- You feel powerless? - Ok, that was enough! Yes, Piqué got the point. But he didn’t have to carry on.

- Bueno… yeah.

The two stayed silent for a while. Gerard probably realized his slip and tried to fix it by doing some comments about incredible moves during the past few weeks.

- Did you see Ibra’s goal? He was really something on sunday!

- Yeah, I guess he’s having a good season… - Xavi answered, a bit indifferent.

- Yeah, absolutely! There was that match against Juventus! Wow... – Maybe it wasn’t exactly the best topic. He kept talking, anyway – The  derby against Inter, too! They are on a streak of luck!

The defender began to discuss other team’s seasons, from Atlético de Madrid to Arsenal. Suddenly, when they reached the last flight of stairs, Piqué stopped talking and turned around to stare at his friend’s chocolate eyes.

- I really do think you shouldn’t worry, everyone is the target of criticism at some point… You... – Xavi looked down. He’d rather not talk about it, but Gerard was really insistent – You are amazing.

The silence remained. The tallest man tried to change the subject as they got to the hall.

- What are you going to do on these fiestas?

- I’m not sure, I’m probably spending Christmas with mis papas y hermanos in Matadeperra, but I guess I’ll be here on New Year’s Eve – Gerard asked questions with no reason all the time, randomly. But when there was some kind of interest behind it, as it was then, he could never hide it – You?

They were already on the parking lot. Piqué’s black car was a few feet away, while his was on the other side. Maybe he could escape? If Gerard’s answer was long enough, perhaps.

- Oh, I’ll end up spending Christmas with my family too… I was thinki-

- Hm, is your brother back yet? – Xavi interrupted Piqué. He didn’t even want to picture what the other one wanted. So there was a chance he could extend the matter about his family until they got to his friend’s car and then he could turn around and pretend he couldn't listen to anything else.

- Actually no, I’m going to pick up Marc at the airport tomorrow. So, like I was sa-

- Really? You... – Xavi thought for a second.

- What?

- Did you… did you call Cesc? For New Year’s Eve?

- What even? What are you talking about, Xavi? He's coming to Barça! And he’s spanish you know. He always comes over one way or another – Shit. Piqué laughed and was about to continue.

- Ah, what I meant was... – Xavi hated the fact he could plan a move in a second, but had not the slightest clue in how to make up an issue – Ok, what were you going to say?

- It’s about Año Nuevo… If you want you can come with me to the airport tomorrow, and I’ll tell you all about it – Gerard answered, getting inside his Audi A7.