Tennis fic - Rafa's diary, day one
Sep. 1st, 2009 02:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
louiseluxI'm taking codiene based painkillers at the moment, so the sensible thing to do is to write Rafa's US Open diary! Here's Day One, in which Rafa watches films and muses on the nature of Toni, Abba and twins, amongst other things.
Title: Rafa's Diary
Rating: gennish although that might change
Warnings: none really that I can think of
Notes: thank you to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
emungere for giving it a read through.
Day One - Monday
It's been a long day. The days seem to get longer and harder whenever Toni arrives back with me, but I don't mind it. It's normality. My glutes ache though, and at the restaurant tonight I could have eaten twice the amount of everything.
Benito says the theatre sent two more tickets for Mamma Mia, one for every day of the week. I'm going to have to get him to send money for them, it's too generous. But the really nice thing is that they sent me a CD of the soundtrack! I'm listening to it now, as I write. The singer's voice is good, although not as good as Abba themselves.
Miguel bought me the box set of Pedro Almodóvar's films for my birthday. I brought it with me to the US when we flew out. So far we've watched High Heels, Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown and Bad Education. I enjoyed them all, although there was a kind of embarrassing gay sex scene in the last one. Embarrassing for Toni at least. He crossed his legs. I could tell he didn't approve of me watching it, like he was willing me with his mind to turn the tv over to football.
"Why do you want to see this sort of thing?" he said, as Juan and Enrique were in the middle of fucking each other stupid.
"It's a good film."
"It's depressing and miserable," Toni told me. "You should be watching happy things."
"Like what? Disney?"
"I don't know! Just not this."
For someone who says he's a free thinker, sometimes he can be very old fashioned. But he was right. The film turned out to be pretty depressing.
I wasn't expecting to see him today, but Roger was in the corridor outside the locker rooms, talking really loudly with some person I did not know. He reached out for my hand as I passed by and I probably hung on to it too tightly, like I always do. His nails dug into my hand. He's got very long nails recently. They're curved and shaped prettily, so it must be on purpose.
"How are you?" he asked me, in a tone of voice that said he actually wanted to know, not just being polite.
I think he well knows how I am. I read his opinions on my health the other day, or rather Benito read them to me. Well, he still thinks I'm a threat. That's good. That's just how it needs to be. He's looking as good as ever. Still Roger, oh yeah. He always is the same. I was thinking kids might make him go slower, but that's not the case. He's more into tennis than ever, yesterday I heard he practised at 8am! For him that's unbelievable... unless Mirka has taken throwing him out the house at 7am every morning. She might.
"I'm good," I told him, still holding his hand. "I'm very good."
I feel like I've been saying that a lot today and yesterday. Every single person has wanted to know how my famous knees are. They're good, what else can I say? I just want to start playing; I want to play and I want to win everything. The feeling is fizzing in my gut like a glass of champagne. I don't dare think too much about anything beyond my first match. I let my thoughts skid off anything to do with the future, and instead I see pictures in my head of myself on the court, and I think about the things I need to improve. Either that or I listen to awesome music from Mamma Mia!
"Did you see the baby pictures yet?" Feli asked me after my encounter with Roger. He was alone in the locker room, wearing a t-shirt that said 'show me the twins'. "It means show me your tits," Feli said. That makes more sense, I suppose?
No one has seen them, apart from shadowy glimpses of shapes in blankets. Andy Roddick says the babies don't exist and that it's all a publicity stunt to get us off our guard so Roger can beat us all some more. Mirka just carried cushions for 9 months. As if Roger and Mirka would do that!
Anyway, no, I never did see the baby photos yet.
Title: Rafa's Diary
Rating: gennish although that might change
Warnings: none really that I can think of
Notes: thank you to
emungere for giving it a read through. Day One - Monday
It's been a long day. The days seem to get longer and harder whenever Toni arrives back with me, but I don't mind it. It's normality. My glutes ache though, and at the restaurant tonight I could have eaten twice the amount of everything.
Benito says the theatre sent two more tickets for Mamma Mia, one for every day of the week. I'm going to have to get him to send money for them, it's too generous. But the really nice thing is that they sent me a CD of the soundtrack! I'm listening to it now, as I write. The singer's voice is good, although not as good as Abba themselves.
Miguel bought me the box set of Pedro Almodóvar's films for my birthday. I brought it with me to the US when we flew out. So far we've watched High Heels, Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown and Bad Education. I enjoyed them all, although there was a kind of embarrassing gay sex scene in the last one. Embarrassing for Toni at least. He crossed his legs. I could tell he didn't approve of me watching it, like he was willing me with his mind to turn the tv over to football.
"Why do you want to see this sort of thing?" he said, as Juan and Enrique were in the middle of fucking each other stupid.
"It's a good film."
"It's depressing and miserable," Toni told me. "You should be watching happy things."
"Like what? Disney?"
"I don't know! Just not this."
For someone who says he's a free thinker, sometimes he can be very old fashioned. But he was right. The film turned out to be pretty depressing.
I wasn't expecting to see him today, but Roger was in the corridor outside the locker rooms, talking really loudly with some person I did not know. He reached out for my hand as I passed by and I probably hung on to it too tightly, like I always do. His nails dug into my hand. He's got very long nails recently. They're curved and shaped prettily, so it must be on purpose.
"How are you?" he asked me, in a tone of voice that said he actually wanted to know, not just being polite.
I think he well knows how I am. I read his opinions on my health the other day, or rather Benito read them to me. Well, he still thinks I'm a threat. That's good. That's just how it needs to be. He's looking as good as ever. Still Roger, oh yeah. He always is the same. I was thinking kids might make him go slower, but that's not the case. He's more into tennis than ever, yesterday I heard he practised at 8am! For him that's unbelievable... unless Mirka has taken throwing him out the house at 7am every morning. She might.
"I'm good," I told him, still holding his hand. "I'm very good."
I feel like I've been saying that a lot today and yesterday. Every single person has wanted to know how my famous knees are. They're good, what else can I say? I just want to start playing; I want to play and I want to win everything. The feeling is fizzing in my gut like a glass of champagne. I don't dare think too much about anything beyond my first match. I let my thoughts skid off anything to do with the future, and instead I see pictures in my head of myself on the court, and I think about the things I need to improve. Either that or I listen to awesome music from Mamma Mia!
"Did you see the baby pictures yet?" Feli asked me after my encounter with Roger. He was alone in the locker room, wearing a t-shirt that said 'show me the twins'. "It means show me your tits," Feli said. That makes more sense, I suppose?
No one has seen them, apart from shadowy glimpses of shapes in blankets. Andy Roddick says the babies don't exist and that it's all a publicity stunt to get us off our guard so Roger can beat us all some more. Mirka just carried cushions for 9 months. As if Roger and Mirka would do that!
Anyway, no, I never did see the baby photos yet.
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Date: 2009-09-01 03:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-02 12:24 am (UTC)