Bound To Fall

I would love nothing more than to say that the very next day, Gonzalo Higuaín showed up once again at my boutique. He would have made up some lame, though entirely legitimate, pretense like exchanging the gold necklace for the silver, or even buying the earrings I had told him about on Sunday.

Then, naturally as we got to talking he would grow to realize that I am not just an overtly rabid Madridista, and that he could maybe, well possibly like me, and maybe he would want to hang out away from the shop, the jewelry, and most likely Talia’s wandering ears.

I would love to say that happened.

Doesn’t mean I can.

Most certainly does not mean that it did or could ever happen.

Please insert dramatic ‘I’ve lost my only chance at true love’ sigh here.

“Okay, so I just spoke with the lady manning the ticket desk. She told me the Munich flight had been detained for a bit, but it has departed and it is on its way here – in fact it should actually be landing within the next ten to fifteen minutes.”

“Lovely, only two hours late. I missed the second half of the game because of their lack of – whatever it was that caused the stupid plane to get detained.”

She gives a mocking smile as she asks, “Should I get you another cup of coffee?”

I make a face, “Don’t treat me like a child.”

“Don’t act like one.”

My eyes narrow, “Clever.”

She gives a delicate chuckle, “I know.”

We have been at this airport since one in the morning. We left the house at eleven, and reached here at one because of the traffic. It’s already half past two now - in the freaking morning. It is Wednesday night, or technically it’s Thursday morning by now. Yes, we do in fact have work in less than four hours.

See you would think that since we run our own business, successfully so if I may add, we would be allowed the added benefit of following our own schedule. But no, when you work with fashion houses, you do not get to choose when you receive their spring lines. With that being said, we’re actually expecting a shipment of clothes from Emilio Pucci at six in the morning. They are very particular about who receives their clothes, so we can’t just have the security office handle it. The person that receives the shipment must be either me or Talia, and it’s imperative that we display valid picture ID.

She straightens her stance up a bit as she spots something outside on the tarmac that is generously lit by the floodlights it’s littered by. My gaze follows and my mood tentatively brightens.

“Is that the Munich flight then?”

Maybe we can get out of here and squeeze an hour of sleep before the delivery.

She shakes her head, “No, it’s even better than a group of three college girls.”

At this point I can only think of just one thing that I can find better than the help at the store the arrival of Tonio’s wife’s younger sister and friends entails.

I glance at the massive arrivals and departures sign that’s constantly moving its letters and numbers. It’s set just before us and I see why Talia’s mood had brightened.

The flight landing is the one from Bilbao that happens to be carrying the newly crowned champions of Spain. They’re coming home fresh off their victory. Gonzalo had scored tonight, in the first half thankfully so I got a chance to see the loveliness in action before we headed out for the airport. I also got to see Özil score and Ronaldo fail to convert a penalty, but in hindsight, it can be forgiven. I heard he scored in the second half anyway.

The airport was in a much worse state than either of us had initially anticipated. It seemed as if everyone in the city had put their lives on hold to celebrate the new champions. People had either gone to Cibeles, or they had come here to the airport to greet the new champions.

The place is packed beyond belief just for that very reason, I remind myself. I mean I’ve never been much of a claustrophobic person, but at this rate, I could feel my heart race, my nerves fraying, and every little thing is rubbing me the wrong way. Alright, fine, maybe it’s not all the reporters and the fans and the security personnel packed together like a can of sardines that has got me pressed into hyperventilation mode.

It’s actually the idea of that one single person in particular. It freaked me out a bit, knowing that the reason the airport is overcrowded is because they’re all waiting for him. They all want to be a part of his world - even if it’s going to be for just one moment.

I couldn’t decide what would be worse, to see him or not to see him tonight. By the looks of things they would be arriving at any moment – the hysterics were building up at an alarming rate.

The terminal that’s expecting the Bilbao flight is directly to the right of the Munich flight’s terminal. Talia and I have a pretty decent view of the goings on beside us.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

I turn my head, and see Talia watching me.

I tilt my head and give a wary smile, “Well, would you be thinking of anything else?”

She shakes her head, yawning before she hedges, “No, but I wouldn’t be talking of anything else either.”

“He didn’t come back – it’s done with, it’s dead. What use do you get from speaking of such things?” Her yawn made me yawn, I cover my mouth as I answer, the words I speak jumble slightly.

“Okay, so he didn’t come back, so it’s not exactly, a BAM, love at first sight affair, Romy, but I would hardly deem it fit to call it dead,” She said the final word as if it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“It was a BAM, love at first sight affair, Talia, it was just remarkably one-sided,” I point out, a frown tugging my lips downwards.

She nods her head, and nudges me, “Well there’s a pretty decent opportunity that’s waiting for you over there. The girls aren’t here yet…you never know what could happen, Romy.”

I flinch, “I think I have a decent grasp on the eventualities of what you’re thinking. I just forgot to wear my rose-colored glasses, but apparently you’ve got yours on.”

“Fine, it’s your loss; just don’t say fate didn’t try to step in – you just said, no thanks.”

I don’t answer.

“Is that Sara Carbonero? Talia asks, peering forward, squinting her eyes as she does so.

I don’t turn my head away from the view of the tarmac, “Probably. Her boyfriend’s been crowned a champion tonight, isn’t he? She’ll be first to interview him on home turf.”

The jumbo airplane had come to a complete stop outside, and the door has been opened, the stairs are now falling into place onto the ground. We both fall quiet as we watch the calm order outside clashing with the chaos and utter lack of control inside.

The captain is the very first to descend. Ronaldo follows after him and Ramos immediately after him. They are all dressed in the traditional ‘we are the champion of 2011/2012’ t-shirts. They all appear to be grinning, but they all seem a little shell-shocked as well. We’ve both fallen into silence as we watch them arrive. It’s all smiles and laughter outside on the tarmac. Inside the airport, it’s nothing short of screamers, criers, and the roaring voices of the reporters trying to get themselves heard past the miniature army of fans.

“How lame would it be if I were to admit that I really don’t mind the girls’ flight being detained all that much?” I announce as I see Gonzalo bounding down the stairs, grinning from ear-to-ear, his arms hooked around Özil and Alonso’s as they saunter oh-so-casually into the airport and disappear momentarily from view.

Talia laughs, “Oh honey, I’ve been relieved from the moment I saw Real Madrid’s flight landing first. I was hoping that something like this would happen.”

I nod, smirking, “Nice.”

The level of voices reaches to ear-shattering shrieks when the team actually enters the airport.

Talia and I glance towards each other, and then shrug.

Some of the players, like Iker and Ronaldo immediately go towards the reporters. Iker obviously makes a beeline towards Sara, as Talia and I had already anticipated. But then the others hover around the fans taking pictures, making faces, and just being generally good guys.

“Girls, what are you two doing here?”

Talia’s face lights up as she hears Nagore’s voice break into our hypnotized bubble.

“We’re actually waiting on some friends, but their flight got detained.”

“Oh, that’s awful,” Nagore tsks with a click of her tongue.

“No, not really,” Talia laughs and gives a pointed glance to where the Real Madrid players are gathered. And at that very moment Pepe, Alvero, and Ricardo break into their own rendition of ‘We are the champions’ with the rest of the team picking up in a peppy, tone-deaf, incredibly Spanish-tinted chorus.

“True, at least you’ve got some proper entertainment,” Nagore amends with a happy smile after our laughter and their singing lowers and dwindles away.

“Congratulations to your husband by the way,” I tack on, “It’s quite an achievement they’ve gotten. They’ve made us all so happy.”

She smiles hugely, marked by her unbridled bliss, “They deserve it. They’ve worked hard. I didn’t know you two liked Real Madrid. You should have said something to me earlier.”

“Why?” Talia and I question simultaneously.

“I can get you some proper accommodations for the games, you guys do a lot for me and the girls, it would be the least I could do. I can’t believe I hadn’t even thought to ask in all these months,” She mutters to herself, affronted.

Then she waves her hand as if pulling herself from her own reverie, “Speaking of the team, so did Gonzalo ever stop by the boutique, he-“

“Nagore, you’re here!”

My broad grin freezes in place, my eyes bulge at the mention of Gonzalo – what could Nagore have told him about us exactly?

Talia’s smile spread wider in surprise and tantalized curiosity, but we both know not to press for the details. Now is not the time, not when –

We look away from one another and see Xabi Alonso happily approaching his wife.

Oh my God. He’s so beautiful.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” He speaks uncertainly, though clearly elated to see his wife.

“Your mother didn’t mind looking after the kids so I can come get you from the airport myself,” She elaborates.

Abruptly Xabi’s eyes snap away from his wife and onto us.

“Hi,” He greets us cheerily.

“Hi,” We both stutter back.

“Xabi, these are the two girls from that lovely boutique I’ve told you about; Talia and Romy,” She explains.

His eyes linger on me for an excessive second as a smirk forms on his lips, and his hand reaches out to Talia’s first and then mine. But not for a handshake, he pulls us each into a tight hug; either of us barely squeeze out a congratulations as his wife laughs at our bemused expressions.

“It was nice seeing you,” Talia enthuses, “And a pleasure to meet Nagore’s other half, finally. You two should get a move on with your own celebrations.”

She throws in a wink when she sees Xabi’s eyes wandering back towards his teammates.

“I’ll be by tomorrow for the dress,” Nagore reminds and gives us both a meaningful look.

“We’ll see you then,” I add.

She hooks her arm through Xabi’s and wanders off in the general direction of the Real Madrid jubilation circle.

Her look better have been a reference to the comment she made about Gonzalo. I need details.

“What’s with the madness gripping the airport?” Melina’s raspy voice demands from behind us, “I told you two to keep our arrival quiet.”

I giggle; we had gotten so caught up in watching the boys with their many ardent fans and then Nagore’s surprise arrival that we forgot to keep an eye out on the arrivals/departures sign.

“Madness?” Talia repeats with a deep voice, turning her head towards the new arrivals.

“Oh God, here it goes,” I mutter under my breath, still smiling as I greet the girls. My eyes travel almost out of reflex, away from my own tiny circle and over towards Gonzalo’s much larger and wider circle of intimate strangers.

“This is MADRID!” She yells a tad too overzealously.

We should not have watched 300 last night.

Some people around holler in agreement, I roll my eyes, and lead the shocked girls away from the madness as if it’s just another day in the life you lead in Madrid.

“I like it,” Mel encourages as she throws her arms around us for another hug. Her two friends, the blondie Cai and the raven-haired Vega following suit.

“Welcome, girls! It’s about time!” I add.

“Believe us, we know, but at this rate you lot seem to have the better end of the deal,” Veda points out.

Talia and I exchange glances, then she adds, “Yeah, I think we did too.”

“Where’s Tonio and my sister?” Mel asks.

“Lisbon, it was my mum’s birthday on Tuesday, and she wanted to see her grandkids, honestly I’m relieved, to not have been guilted into going and even more so to have you guys back to help out at Flair,” Talia lists excitedly.

Her voice is getting farther and farther away from me as she continues to speak, but I don’t move. I stand still because now I finally have the perfect view of Gonzalo Higuaín.

I wanted the lights to dim; I wanted to have two spot lights shine on him and on me. I wanted the screaming fans to finally be silenced. Most of all, I wanted us to have that real moment of BAM, there he/she is – the person that I want to be with.

He’s standing about a few dozen paces away from me. It’s his turn to get interviewed by Sara – no doubt her question must be aimed towards the fantastic goal he had scored just two hours earlier. That must be why his smile has grown so wide.

We’re separated by just a wall of fans.

Suddenly, for one brief second, his eyes go beyond his own ring of flashing lights and shrieks of adoration, and they land on me. Only to quickly dart away just as quickly and he waves, and smiles just as he had done on Sunday. It occurs to me finally that all he can ever see me as is a fan – nothing more. The conversation he overheard ensured that much. I might as well be standing at the very front of the group and screaming for a picture and an autograph.

I’m standing here instead, straddling an imaginary line that only I can see. To my left is my world, my life, where I feel loved, and where I find my comfort. I look and I see Talia with Melina, Cai, and Vega all waiting for the conveyer belt to spew out their final bit of luggage. I see it so clearly now. These two worlds, his and mine, they can never properly intersect without problems ensuing.

Then again, there must be some reason why I happen to find myself facing him again after so few days apart. Maybe Talia did have point; maybe fate was trying to intervene on my behalf, maybe fate didn’t want Gonzalo to forget me too easily.

Then Gonzalo gives a final wave to his fans, and he follows after his teammates to the parking lot where the team bus has been parked and waiting for them since before my own arrival at the airport. I don’t think that that I can ever feel any further away from him than I do at this very moment.

I tilt my head, almost smiling as I had allowed hope to tint my thoughts for just a few brief seconds. I walk back and join my group of friends, pushing my hope down and away without as much as another thought to it.

Nope, all this is is definitely fate just being a cruel, teasing bitch. Again.