Dezanove Estrelas

“Cristiano, isto é louco!” (“Cristiano, this is crazy!”) Camille giggled, “Tire esta venda de mim!” (“take this blindfold off of me!”)

It had been a about two months since Cristiano had shared the news about Real Madrid with Camilla. Needless to say, those two months were very hectic. Cristiano finalized his deal with Madrid. The press flooded his home, making it nearly impossible for her to go see him without being hounded. He had done interview, after interview, after interview. He flew back and forth between Spain and Manchester. He packed up everything he owned as well as everything she owned, and was ready to move it to his, or rather, their new home.

Their home. Their brand new home. The thought alone made Camilla her lips curve upward into a smile. She had never lived with a boyfriend before, mainly because no boyfriend of hers was ever serious enough. But Cristiano was different; hell he convinced her to leave Manchester for Spain.

Spain. Her birthplace. That thought only made her smile grow. She hadn’t been back to Madrid since she moved to Manchester three years ago for school. She always wanted to go and visit over breaks and such, but she could never find time. But now she was going back, permanently.

“Não. Você acaba de ter que esperar um par mais passos, então eu o mostrarei,” (“Nope. You just have to wait a couple more steps, then I will show you,”) Cristiano told her. They arrived in Spain not too long ago. After stepping off the plane, into the airport and out to the car Cristiano presented a lovely blindfold for Camilla. She obliged and put it on. They drove about two hours from the airport to an unknown place - as far as Camilla goes - and now Cristiano was leading her along some sort of pathway. “Tá bom, agarra-se real rápido,” (“Okay, hold on real quick,”) he told her, she felt his grasp on her arms vanish for a moment as she heard the opening of a door, then they were back. He led her a little farther forward before they both stopped.

“Eu posso tomar este fora agora?” (“Can I take this off now?”) Camilla asked.

She felt Cristiano kiss her neck gently. His hands moved up and down her arms, resting on her shoulders. She then felt his hot breath on her ear when he whispered, “Eu o farei.” (“I’ll do it.”)

Camilla stayed completely still as she waited for the blindfold to come off. Once it did, her jaw dropped. “Cristiano? O que é isto?” (“Cristiano? What is this?”) she stepped forward a bit, slightly confused at where he had taken her.

Still standing in his place he crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for her real reaction, “É para casa… nosso Camilla doméstico.” (“it’s home…our home Camilla.”)

“Oh meu deus,” (“Oh my god,”) Camilla gasped.

Crisitano smiled, even though his girlfriend’s back was to him, he knew she was smiling too. He walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She turned in his arms and looked up at him. “Isto é realmente nossa casa? Oficialmente? Como em nós ambos vivem aqui?” (“This is really our home? Officially? As in we both live here?”)

He rolled his eyes, “Nenhum Camilla, nós vivemos numa caixa atrás desta casa. Naturalmente nós vivemos aqui agora!” (“no Camilla, we live in a box behind this house. Of course we live here now!”)

She nodded her head slowly. Cristiano looked down at her with a cocked eyebrow, before she suddenly jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and hands wound together around his neck. She kissed him repeatedly all over his face; in return, he chuckled at her, “Eu soube que você gostaria de ele.” (“I knew you’d like it.”)

-X-

“Bien, así que usted dos movimiento a España. Compra una casa. ¿Yo no veo realmente donde usted 'acerca de yendo con este mi estimado?” (“Okay, so you two move to Spain. He buys a house. I don’t really see where you‘re going with this my dear?”) Sergio tells her.

Kaka rolls his eyes, “Quizá llegaba a eso. Usted no permitió su fin.” (“maybe she was getting to that. You didn’t let her finish.”)

“Bien yo sólo quise asegurarse de que ella no se desviaba del punto. Hago eso todo el tiempo.” (“Well I just wanted to make sure she wasn‘t straying from the point. I do that all the time.”) Sergio defends.

“¡Sí bien ella no tiene la capacidad de concentración de una ardilla como usted hace!” (“Yeah well she doesn’t have the attention span of a squirrel like you do!”)

“¿Ah quiere hacer chistes? Bien aquí 's un chiste para usted, usted-” (“Oh you want to make jokes? Well here‘s a joke for you, you-”)

“¡Chicos! ¡Párelo!” (“Boys! Stop it!”) Camilla intervened in their bickering.

“Camilla arrepentido,” (“Sorry Camilla,”) they replied simultaneously.

She sighed, then smiled telling them it was alright. “Pero Sergio que llegaba a eso. Vea, wasn 'T necesariamente el movimiento que cosas fallaron. Fue el hogar.” (“But Sergio I was getting to that. See, it wasn‘t necessarily the move that things went wrong. It was the home.”)

“¿Qué significa usted el amor?” (“What do you mean love?”) Kaka asked.

“Una vez que nosotros fuimos asentados en, advertí este cambio en su humor. Un cambio en su actitud. El no había empezado a jugar para Madrid Verdadero todavía, su presentación no fue para otra semana después de eso. Pero vi un Cristiano diferente…” (“Once we were settled in, I noticed this change in his mood. A change in his attitude. He hadn‘t started playing for Real Madrid yet, his presentation was not for another week after that. But I saw a different Cristiano…”)

-X-

Camilla sat on a barstool at the kitchen island. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun atop her head. She wore a simple white v-neck t-shirt, and jean shorts. Her laptop was on, and she was researching areas around Madrid, specifically un-leased and open for purchase store blocks that she could start her business in. With her Fashion Business Merchandising degree, she was ready to put it to use.

In the middle of her work, she heard the front door open and close. Cristiano was home. For the past days that they’ve moved in and settled, he has been basically promoting himself, as narcissistic as that is, as one of the many new members of Real Madrid.

“Camilla! Camilla! Camilla! Onde você é?” (“Camilla! Camilla! Camilla! Where are you?”) his voice echoed.

“Na cozinha!” (“In the kitchen!”) she told him, not looking up from her laptop. He soon made his way over into the kitchen. Before Camilla could even look up, a loud clatter hit the kitchen floor, as well as the kitchen island. Her eyes snapped up and there stood an ear-to-ear, grinning Cristiano. She cocked up an eyebrow, “Cris, o que é todo isto?” (“Cris, what is all of this?”)

Around Cristiano’s feet and now all over the countertop, were some sweaters, jackets, t-shirts, wristbands, bracelets, and what looked like rolled up posterboard papers. Behind Cristiano was a box labeled: Real Madrid.

This is where he picked up one of the shirts - turns out it was a jersey - and showed it to Camilla, “Estes meu amor, são minha mercadoria de endosso da equipa.” (“these my love, are my endorsement goods from the team.”) He turned the jersey around to reveal the RONALDO across the shoulders, and the 9 below it. He continued showing off the jackets, and the bracelets with his name on it, not even noticing the look of utter confusion on his girlfriend’s face.

“Olálá Cristiano, isto é todos muito amável mas-” (“Wow Cristiano, this is all very nice but-”)

“Oh e estes aqui estão meus favoritos!” (“Oh and these here are my favorites!”) he went on like she didn’t even say anything, “Olhe estes! Camilla são você olhando!” (“look at these! Camilla are you looking!”) he snapped his fingers at her.

“Sim!” (“Yes!”) she barked at him, becoming very irritated. All he had to show her was a picture of himself. Go figure.

He gave Camilla an odd look before asking, “Much? Camilla, I‘m Cristiano Ronaldo! Most expensive footballer in the world. Nothing is too much.” (“What‘s wrong with you?”)

She sighed, “Cristiano, veste 't que você pensa que isto é um pouco muito?” (“Cristiano, don‘t you think this is a bit much?”)

Almost immediately he threw his head back in laughter. She did not see the humor in this, at all. But she still waited for him to stop laughing, before asking him again. “Muito? Camilla, eu 'm Cristiano Ronaldo! Futebolista mais caro no mundo. O nada é demais.” (“Much? Camilla, I‘m Cristiano Ronaldo! Most expensive footballer in the world. Nothing is too much.”) With that said, he grabbed everything he had dumped out, put it back in the box, and walked away to another part of the house. She slumped back in her seat, trying to register his last comment; something was off.
-X-

She began rubbing her temples, feeling a bit of a migraine coming along. Sergio and Kaka sat watching her, waiting for her to go on, but she never did.

“¿Entonces qué?” (“So what?”) Sergio started, “¿Que 's? ¿Que fue su cambio? Los sonidos como el mismo Cristiano viejo a mí. ¡- Ay!” (“that‘s it? That was his change? Sounds like the same old Cristiano to me. - Ouch!”)

Kaka had smacked Sergio in the back of the head. “Puede ser tan ignorante a veces,” (“You can be so ignorant sometimes,”) he grumbled, “¿No lo consigue usted? Cristiano no estuvo como eso antes que viniera a Madrid.” (“don‘t you get it? Cristiano wasn‘t like that before he came to Madrid.”)

Sergio looked lost in wonder at the two before him, “¿De qué habla usted?” (“what are you talking about?”) he practically yelled, “¡Tiene siempre, siempre, siempre, siempre, fue el hombre más narcisista para andar este planeta! ¡Aún en Manchester!” (“he‘s always, always, always, always, been the most narcissistic man to walk this planet! Even at Manchester!”)

“Significo del campo Ramos.” (“I mean off the field Ramos.”) Camilla told him, “En el campo, por supuesto supe que fue arrogante. Por favor, ustedes son. Raya un objetivo, y 'puños de s al pecho y un mira duramente a sus adversarios. Todos los futbolistas están así. Ahora del campo - historia totalmente diferente. Cristiano, seguro él tuvo un respaldos de la pareja aquí y allá…pero,” (“On the field, of course I knew he was arrogant. Please, you all are. You score a goal, and it‘s fists to your chest and a hard look at your opponents. All footballers are that way. Now off the field - totally different story. Cristiano, sure he had a couple endorsements here and there…but.”)

She breathed deeply, trying to find the right words to use. “Pero el vistazo en los ojos cuando volvió a casa que día, estuvo como un extranjeros. El no fue el mismo Cristiano. ” (“But the look in his eyes when he came home that day, were like a strangers. He was not the same Cristiano.”)

She looked at the two who just looked at each other. She sighed, she knew they wouldn’t understand. She stood up and began walking to her room. The boys decided against going after her. They knew she was going through a tough time, so they were going to leave her to her thoughts. “Sírvase a algo usted desea en los chicos de la cocina. Acabo de tomar una siesta un rato.” (“Help yourself to anything you want in the kitchen boys. I’m just going to take a nap for a while.”)

She continued to her room and plopped down on the mattress. In her mind, she kept repeating: deep breaths, deep breaths. She didn’t know how much longer she could go on stressing like this. Then her hand went to her stomach, rubbing small circles - something her fiancé should be doing.

On the bedside table, next to the lamp was an old photograph of her and Cristiano at Madrid’s Christmas Party from last year. The two looked genuinely happy. Something she missed. She turned her head and looked at the empty spot of the bed; turning on her side she patted down Cristiano’s side of the bed. She exhaled very slowly, “¿A dónde corre usted?” (“Where are you running to?”)