Status: Complete
Revenge is Sweet
Chapter 4
Walking through the doors at Melwood, Xabi walked straight for the canteen seeing as they were having a joint lunch before the late kick-off against Chelsea on home turf.
Getting his food, he saw his younger Spanish team-mate sitting at a table with Stevie and Pepe, laughing at something. Frowning slightly, he walked over and sat down, silently wondering what had him in such a good mood.
“Hey, glad you could finally join us,” Stevie smirked as he looked over at Xabi.
“The traffic was bad,” Xabi brushed off, knowing it was a lie and it was his girlfriend that had kept him…
“Yeah, that’s what they all say,” Pepe smirked as he punched him in the shoulder. “I got to go,” he groaned, knowing that he had to attend the goalie meeting with their trainer before they even left the grounds and headed for Anfield.
Stevie disappearing soon after, Xabi looked over at his blond friend that was seemingly relaxed, even though it was obvious to anyone that knew him that he was going through a hard time.
“You okay?” Xabi asked as he was eating.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Fernando asked surprised.
“You haven’t seen today’s paper have you?” Xabi asked regretfully.
“No,” Fernando shook his head. “I haven’t been reading them since I apparently need to be plastered across the celeb-pages every day for just going out to the grocery store,” he added dryly.
“Oh,” Xabi replied, wondering what he was going to do. He’d seen the day’s papers and…well it wasn’t anything to him, but it might be to Fernando.
“Why? Is there something I should read?” Fernando questioned.
“Not something you should read per say…” Xabi stalled.
“Just spit it out,” Fernando stated annoyed.
Xabi didn’t really know what to say, so he opted for staying quiet. Something that Fernando really wasn’t happy with. Watching his friend, he weighed his options, and seeing he was curious by nature, ignoring it wasn’t really an option. “Which paper?” he demanded quietly.
“Take your pick,” Xabi admitted softly.
Raising his eyebrows slightly, Fernando got up from his chair and quickly crossed the canteen, searching for the mornings papers. His eyes landing on a pile on a table by the door, he grabbed the first one which happened to be The Sun and he quickly ignored the sports pages and went straight for the bizarre section.
An action he regretted only seconds later.
Staring back at him was pictures of his girlfriend…well, ex-girlfriend if you wanted to get technical…wrapped in a tight embrace with one of the few persons he really despised, Cristiano Ronaldo himself.
Swallowing the lump that immediately had formed in his throat, he tried to find a reasonable explanation as to why they were in the picture together, but he knew it was useless. Jenny knew Ronaldo briefly, they weren’t really friends, but they apparently talked when they met. But there was no mistaking how close they actually were in the pictures…
…Jenny seems to have wasted no time in replacing El Niño as she was seen leaving last nights opening of The Red Room in Manchester with none other than everyone’s favourite footballer to hate, Cristiano Ronaldo.
The pair seemed to be much wrapped up in each other as they were leaving the club together, and neither of them even bothered to hide from the photographers that were waiting outside.
Sources inside the club state that the two of them were looking very cosy as they were smooching at the bar before they left the club. And reliable sources also tell that they left the area in Ronaldo’s Rolls-Royce Phantom, only to appear at his house a while later. A house that Jenny didn’t seem to leave anytime before early dawn anyway…
His eyes landing on the last two pictures, showing the two of them kissing outside of the club and also in the front seat of the car, Fernando suppress the sudden urge to punch something and dropped the papers back on the table before he slowly returned to the Xabi.
“Are you okay?” Xabi asked slowly, seeing the apparent distress in his friends face.
“No, I'm not okay,” Fernando bit back, annoyed that that seemed to be people’s favourite phrase to ask him lately. Of course he was bloody not alright; he’d personally managed to push the person he loved away, single-handedly. Well, maybe not really single-handedly, but as close as, seeing he’d cheated on her, and he knew that she’d found out. Otherwise she wouldn’t be ignoring his phone calls, and she wouldn’t be threatening Alex, or Yolanda or Nagore with bodily harm if they told him where she was.
Not that he needed that information now seeing as it was splashed across the front pages of most of the papers for the whole of England to see.
Ignoring the worried look his friend sent him, he turned around and stormed out of the canteen, he was not going to break down or hit something with people around to witness it that was for sure. Finding his refuge in one of the empty conference rooms’ he sank down in a seat and ran his fingers through his hair.
He didn’t even know why he’d cheated, the opportunity had arisen and he couldn’t say no. But that wasn’t a defence; nothing could explain why he did it. And he knew that she wouldn’t want to listen to it anyway… But deep down he knew why he’d done it, because he was a bloody idiot that was why!
Tugging slightly on his hair, he tried to get the images he’d created of what she and Cristiano had spent the night doing, away from his mind. He had a game to focus on. One of the most important games in the season…
Just about to cross the lobby of Melwood to head for the team bus, Fernando jumped slightly as his name was called. Turning around, he found that one of the receptionists was calling him over.
Shrugging his shoulders at Pepe who was looking at him questioningly, he walked over and Matilda who was sitting behind the desk handed him an envelope that had been delivered to him a few minutes earlier.
Thanking her, he quickly opened the envelope and froze as he saw the two pictures it contained. Ignoring the feeling of bile rising in his throat, he looked at the pictures more closely; they’d obviously been taken with a cell phone camera… One was Jenny’s work and the other one…Ronaldo’s…
The first one was of the both of them…Jenny was straddling Ronaldo as he was kissing her bare shoulder, neither of them wearing more than their underwear, Jenny wasn’t even wearing a bra.
Forcing himself to swallow passed the lump that had set up camp in his throat; he looked at the next picture. If the first one had left no chance that Jenny and Cristiano hadn’t done what was obvious, the second went straight for the jugular. Where the first one simply showed that she knew what he’d done and that she was very much able of getting back at him, then the second one was personal.
She’d always told him she was a diehard Liverpool fan, even though she was born and raised in Manchester, and that Man United was the enemy. In the picture she was wearing a Man U shirt with Ronaldo 7 on the back of it…
“You do know that this is going to burn me, right?” Jenny smirked as she was covering herself with the thin sheet in the bed, her hair all over the place, as she was looking between the shirt and Cristiano’s face.
“You're the one who wanted revenge,” he shrugged as he was standing at the end of the bed, wearing only his boxers. During the night, she’d told him why she was seeking revenge on the person that papers had made out to be his number one competitor in England.
“True,” she nodded slowly as she reached out and touched the legendary number 7 shirt. “But this is practically a sin,” she pointed out as she ran her finger over the number.
“I think that the things you’ve been doing the past hours also counts as sins according to some,” he smirked as he got on the bed behind her and gently kissed her naked shoulder. “And you could always convert you know,” he whispered against her skin and he kissed his way down her back.
“Yeah, I’ll think about that,” she nodded slowly, enjoying the feel of his lips against her skin. “And we need to do this now if I'm ever going to do it.”
“So put it on,” he smiled, watching as she glared at him before letting go of the sheet, smirking at him as his eyes were drawn to her naked breasts.
Pulling the shirt over her head, she smiled slightly; walking on the enemy side was fun… And as she handed him her cell phone, she knew the pain would be worth it, it would hurt someone else a lot more…
Pushing the pictures back in the envelope, he noticed that one of them had something written on the back. Pulling it back out, he turned it around and immediately recognised the handwriting.
“Después de haber roto su corazón duele, ¿no?”
(“Having your heart broken hurts, doesn't it?”)
Resisting the urge to tear the picture apart, he stuffed the whole envelope in his bag and hurried towards the coach, he had a match to get to…
Four hours later, he was slowly walking back up on the coach that had taken them from Melwood to Anfield. And he did so as the culprit.
The match had been a fiasco. They’d lost 3-0 to Chelsea and he’d been sent off with a red card after two yellows. In the 24th minute…
His mind had been preoccupied with the images of his girlfriend screwing Cristiano Ronaldo…easily said, he hadn’t been concentrating on the match and he’d made a really bad tackle. The ref was not afraid to book him.
The yellow card went up and he lost it. He was not a person who was easily shaken but in the mental state he’d been in…the smirk on the ref’s face and the way he branched the yellow card…
His Spanish temper made an appearance, a few badly chosen words in Spanish and a few sarcastic claps in the ref’s face, and he was off. The yellow card came back up and was closely followed by the red one.
The others tried to argue his case, but it was useless and he walked off the pitch disbelieving. It was his first red card in ages and it stung, but not as bad as the images that were following him as he crossed the pitch and headed for the dressing rooms.
Other times, Jenny would have been by his side as soon as the match ended, but this time he knew she wouldn’t even look his way…
Running his hands through his hair, he jumped slightly as his cell phone vibrated. Pulling it out of his bag, his eyebrows rose as he saw the sender of the text he’d received; ‘Jenny’.
Frowning slightly, he opened the text and his heart plummeted even further down. There was no question about it, she’d done it on purpose, she knew that he was easily shaken when his feelings were wound up, and she’d used it against him…where it would hurt the most…
“La venganza es dulce...”
(“Revenge is Sweet…”)
Getting his food, he saw his younger Spanish team-mate sitting at a table with Stevie and Pepe, laughing at something. Frowning slightly, he walked over and sat down, silently wondering what had him in such a good mood.
“Hey, glad you could finally join us,” Stevie smirked as he looked over at Xabi.
“The traffic was bad,” Xabi brushed off, knowing it was a lie and it was his girlfriend that had kept him…
“Yeah, that’s what they all say,” Pepe smirked as he punched him in the shoulder. “I got to go,” he groaned, knowing that he had to attend the goalie meeting with their trainer before they even left the grounds and headed for Anfield.
Stevie disappearing soon after, Xabi looked over at his blond friend that was seemingly relaxed, even though it was obvious to anyone that knew him that he was going through a hard time.
“You okay?” Xabi asked as he was eating.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Fernando asked surprised.
“You haven’t seen today’s paper have you?” Xabi asked regretfully.
“No,” Fernando shook his head. “I haven’t been reading them since I apparently need to be plastered across the celeb-pages every day for just going out to the grocery store,” he added dryly.
“Oh,” Xabi replied, wondering what he was going to do. He’d seen the day’s papers and…well it wasn’t anything to him, but it might be to Fernando.
“Why? Is there something I should read?” Fernando questioned.
“Not something you should read per say…” Xabi stalled.
“Just spit it out,” Fernando stated annoyed.
Xabi didn’t really know what to say, so he opted for staying quiet. Something that Fernando really wasn’t happy with. Watching his friend, he weighed his options, and seeing he was curious by nature, ignoring it wasn’t really an option. “Which paper?” he demanded quietly.
“Take your pick,” Xabi admitted softly.
Raising his eyebrows slightly, Fernando got up from his chair and quickly crossed the canteen, searching for the mornings papers. His eyes landing on a pile on a table by the door, he grabbed the first one which happened to be The Sun and he quickly ignored the sports pages and went straight for the bizarre section.
An action he regretted only seconds later.
Staring back at him was pictures of his girlfriend…well, ex-girlfriend if you wanted to get technical…wrapped in a tight embrace with one of the few persons he really despised, Cristiano Ronaldo himself.
Swallowing the lump that immediately had formed in his throat, he tried to find a reasonable explanation as to why they were in the picture together, but he knew it was useless. Jenny knew Ronaldo briefly, they weren’t really friends, but they apparently talked when they met. But there was no mistaking how close they actually were in the pictures…
…Jenny seems to have wasted no time in replacing El Niño as she was seen leaving last nights opening of The Red Room in Manchester with none other than everyone’s favourite footballer to hate, Cristiano Ronaldo.
The pair seemed to be much wrapped up in each other as they were leaving the club together, and neither of them even bothered to hide from the photographers that were waiting outside.
Sources inside the club state that the two of them were looking very cosy as they were smooching at the bar before they left the club. And reliable sources also tell that they left the area in Ronaldo’s Rolls-Royce Phantom, only to appear at his house a while later. A house that Jenny didn’t seem to leave anytime before early dawn anyway…
His eyes landing on the last two pictures, showing the two of them kissing outside of the club and also in the front seat of the car, Fernando suppress the sudden urge to punch something and dropped the papers back on the table before he slowly returned to the Xabi.
“Are you okay?” Xabi asked slowly, seeing the apparent distress in his friends face.
“No, I'm not okay,” Fernando bit back, annoyed that that seemed to be people’s favourite phrase to ask him lately. Of course he was bloody not alright; he’d personally managed to push the person he loved away, single-handedly. Well, maybe not really single-handedly, but as close as, seeing he’d cheated on her, and he knew that she’d found out. Otherwise she wouldn’t be ignoring his phone calls, and she wouldn’t be threatening Alex, or Yolanda or Nagore with bodily harm if they told him where she was.
Not that he needed that information now seeing as it was splashed across the front pages of most of the papers for the whole of England to see.
Ignoring the worried look his friend sent him, he turned around and stormed out of the canteen, he was not going to break down or hit something with people around to witness it that was for sure. Finding his refuge in one of the empty conference rooms’ he sank down in a seat and ran his fingers through his hair.
He didn’t even know why he’d cheated, the opportunity had arisen and he couldn’t say no. But that wasn’t a defence; nothing could explain why he did it. And he knew that she wouldn’t want to listen to it anyway… But deep down he knew why he’d done it, because he was a bloody idiot that was why!
Tugging slightly on his hair, he tried to get the images he’d created of what she and Cristiano had spent the night doing, away from his mind. He had a game to focus on. One of the most important games in the season…
Just about to cross the lobby of Melwood to head for the team bus, Fernando jumped slightly as his name was called. Turning around, he found that one of the receptionists was calling him over.
Shrugging his shoulders at Pepe who was looking at him questioningly, he walked over and Matilda who was sitting behind the desk handed him an envelope that had been delivered to him a few minutes earlier.
Thanking her, he quickly opened the envelope and froze as he saw the two pictures it contained. Ignoring the feeling of bile rising in his throat, he looked at the pictures more closely; they’d obviously been taken with a cell phone camera… One was Jenny’s work and the other one…Ronaldo’s…
The first one was of the both of them…Jenny was straddling Ronaldo as he was kissing her bare shoulder, neither of them wearing more than their underwear, Jenny wasn’t even wearing a bra.
Forcing himself to swallow passed the lump that had set up camp in his throat; he looked at the next picture. If the first one had left no chance that Jenny and Cristiano hadn’t done what was obvious, the second went straight for the jugular. Where the first one simply showed that she knew what he’d done and that she was very much able of getting back at him, then the second one was personal.
She’d always told him she was a diehard Liverpool fan, even though she was born and raised in Manchester, and that Man United was the enemy. In the picture she was wearing a Man U shirt with Ronaldo 7 on the back of it…
“You do know that this is going to burn me, right?” Jenny smirked as she was covering herself with the thin sheet in the bed, her hair all over the place, as she was looking between the shirt and Cristiano’s face.
“You're the one who wanted revenge,” he shrugged as he was standing at the end of the bed, wearing only his boxers. During the night, she’d told him why she was seeking revenge on the person that papers had made out to be his number one competitor in England.
“True,” she nodded slowly as she reached out and touched the legendary number 7 shirt. “But this is practically a sin,” she pointed out as she ran her finger over the number.
“I think that the things you’ve been doing the past hours also counts as sins according to some,” he smirked as he got on the bed behind her and gently kissed her naked shoulder. “And you could always convert you know,” he whispered against her skin and he kissed his way down her back.
“Yeah, I’ll think about that,” she nodded slowly, enjoying the feel of his lips against her skin. “And we need to do this now if I'm ever going to do it.”
“So put it on,” he smiled, watching as she glared at him before letting go of the sheet, smirking at him as his eyes were drawn to her naked breasts.
Pulling the shirt over her head, she smiled slightly; walking on the enemy side was fun… And as she handed him her cell phone, she knew the pain would be worth it, it would hurt someone else a lot more…
Pushing the pictures back in the envelope, he noticed that one of them had something written on the back. Pulling it back out, he turned it around and immediately recognised the handwriting.
“Después de haber roto su corazón duele, ¿no?”
(“Having your heart broken hurts, doesn't it?”)
Resisting the urge to tear the picture apart, he stuffed the whole envelope in his bag and hurried towards the coach, he had a match to get to…
Four hours later, he was slowly walking back up on the coach that had taken them from Melwood to Anfield. And he did so as the culprit.
The match had been a fiasco. They’d lost 3-0 to Chelsea and he’d been sent off with a red card after two yellows. In the 24th minute…
His mind had been preoccupied with the images of his girlfriend screwing Cristiano Ronaldo…easily said, he hadn’t been concentrating on the match and he’d made a really bad tackle. The ref was not afraid to book him.
The yellow card went up and he lost it. He was not a person who was easily shaken but in the mental state he’d been in…the smirk on the ref’s face and the way he branched the yellow card…
His Spanish temper made an appearance, a few badly chosen words in Spanish and a few sarcastic claps in the ref’s face, and he was off. The yellow card came back up and was closely followed by the red one.
The others tried to argue his case, but it was useless and he walked off the pitch disbelieving. It was his first red card in ages and it stung, but not as bad as the images that were following him as he crossed the pitch and headed for the dressing rooms.
Other times, Jenny would have been by his side as soon as the match ended, but this time he knew she wouldn’t even look his way…
Running his hands through his hair, he jumped slightly as his cell phone vibrated. Pulling it out of his bag, his eyebrows rose as he saw the sender of the text he’d received; ‘Jenny’.
Frowning slightly, he opened the text and his heart plummeted even further down. There was no question about it, she’d done it on purpose, she knew that he was easily shaken when his feelings were wound up, and she’d used it against him…where it would hurt the most…
“La venganza es dulce...”
(“Revenge is Sweet…”)