Fic- Rafa's diary - days five and six
Sep. 7th, 2009 12:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
louiseluxTitle: Rafa's Diary - day five & day six
Pairing: Fedalish
Warnings: worksafe
Rating: G
Day one Day two Day three Day four
Day five – Friday
Match day! Today is one of those days where it feels I spend my entire life in a locker room. After so many years they come to look-- and especially smell-- the same. Sweat, farts, soap, damp towels and feet. The ones here are quite nice though, with good air conditioning.
Albert is here in New York now. It's good to see him, even if he makes Carlos extra loud. He's bought me a small stuffed lion, I don't know why. It's quite cute though. I put it on the little table next to the bed.
I saw Mirka this morning. She was alone, texting, waiting in the little grassy area outside the locker rooms just as we were going in. She was sitting at a table in the sunshine waiting, probably for Roger. She smiled and waved at us, and so Toni nudged me over to say hello. It must be months since we last spoke.
"Congratulations," I said. "How are you?
"Great!" she said, almost glowing in the sunshine, despite the dark circles under her eyes.
"And how are they?"
"Probably they are being sick on the nanny," she said, and laughed. "For a change. Look, Rafa. I have to show you them." She dug in her bag for her phone.
They are cute pink blobs – pink cheeks, pink clothes, little dark eyes. Babies are like locker rooms in a way. They all look the same – and probably smell the same. It's a good thing my mother isn't here or she'd be over to the Carlyle to "visit". Already my grandmother is hounding Xisca about babies every chance she has. My grandmother has few boundaries, as Xisca likes to put it. We haven't talked about the baby thing ourselves.
We said goodbye after a little chat.
"Did they inherit the nose?" Toni asked me, as we made our way through the gates to the courts.
"That's not very nice," I said, but Toni was laughing. "Anyway, it's hard to tell."
He patted me on the back and began to tell me about the gardening museum.
***
It's later now, after 3am but honestly I can't sleep. There's so much going on in my mind, all thoughts jumbled up and going bad like they can do in the middle of the night. I won the match, and it was a harder match than it should've been. Sometimes even winning doesn't make you feel like a winner. I need to work hard tomorrow.
Hey, I just realised that the toy lion is actually a little purse. It has a zip in its stomach!
I'm going to put my headphones on and listen to some music. Maybe it will help. Julio has a very soft and relaxing voice.
Day six - Saturday
Toni woke me early today. His face looming over me was the absolute first thing I saw. It really looks like he's dyed his hair. I should ask him about that one time.
"Time to get up," he said. Then, "You slept in those?"
I still had my headphones on. Over his shoulder, through the open bedroom door, I saw Maymo and Carlos eating toast and drinking coffee. Maymo looked up at me, then he reached for his notebook and wrote something in it.
"It's early," I said.
"It's 10am."
"Exactly what I said – early."
"We need to work on all the thing you're doing badly."
All the things. My stomach was very sore, still. I rubbed it and stared up at the ceiling and thought that he was exactly right. He's always right.
We were out of the hotel by 10.45, heading over to the grounds in a tournament car. I put on my headphones and gazed out of the window at the city as it slipped by. How can people live in such a big confusing place?
Roger was already playing by the time we arrived, so there was the predictable total chaos everywhere, but at least the practise courts only had my fans, so the chaos was about 50% lessened there.
"I'm going to scout," Carlos said.
"Do you really need to?" Toni said. "At this stage?"
Meaning we didn’t even know if I'd make it to the final. Or if Roger would.
"Yeah." Carlos smiled. "I like to watch Roger's matches anyway."
"Tell me the score," I called. It's weird how playing tennis means I don't get to watch much of it.
"I'll text you."
Roger won even though the game was a bit of a mess, Carlos told me later. I doubt we'll meet in the final. Andy and Juan Martin are far bigger headaches for me. I chatted a little with Juan Martin today after practise. He said someone had stolen two of his commemorative towels but that no one would admit to it. He seemed pretty upset about it, too. I told him he could have one of mine and he cheered up a lot.
How's your body? someone asked me last night in the presser. I said it was fine. What else was I going to say? It does its job, mostly. Sometimes I talk with Uncle Miguel about what my injuries might mean for me in the future. He knows a lot of things, like how it feels to wake up at forty years old with knees aching from things he did to them in his twenties. But, well. My life is dream and it's important to be grateful.
Pairing: Fedalish
Warnings: worksafe
Rating: G
Day one Day two Day three Day four
Day five – Friday
Match day! Today is one of those days where it feels I spend my entire life in a locker room. After so many years they come to look-- and especially smell-- the same. Sweat, farts, soap, damp towels and feet. The ones here are quite nice though, with good air conditioning.
Albert is here in New York now. It's good to see him, even if he makes Carlos extra loud. He's bought me a small stuffed lion, I don't know why. It's quite cute though. I put it on the little table next to the bed.
I saw Mirka this morning. She was alone, texting, waiting in the little grassy area outside the locker rooms just as we were going in. She was sitting at a table in the sunshine waiting, probably for Roger. She smiled and waved at us, and so Toni nudged me over to say hello. It must be months since we last spoke.
"Congratulations," I said. "How are you?
"Great!" she said, almost glowing in the sunshine, despite the dark circles under her eyes.
"And how are they?"
"Probably they are being sick on the nanny," she said, and laughed. "For a change. Look, Rafa. I have to show you them." She dug in her bag for her phone.
They are cute pink blobs – pink cheeks, pink clothes, little dark eyes. Babies are like locker rooms in a way. They all look the same – and probably smell the same. It's a good thing my mother isn't here or she'd be over to the Carlyle to "visit". Already my grandmother is hounding Xisca about babies every chance she has. My grandmother has few boundaries, as Xisca likes to put it. We haven't talked about the baby thing ourselves.
We said goodbye after a little chat.
"Did they inherit the nose?" Toni asked me, as we made our way through the gates to the courts.
"That's not very nice," I said, but Toni was laughing. "Anyway, it's hard to tell."
He patted me on the back and began to tell me about the gardening museum.
***
It's later now, after 3am but honestly I can't sleep. There's so much going on in my mind, all thoughts jumbled up and going bad like they can do in the middle of the night. I won the match, and it was a harder match than it should've been. Sometimes even winning doesn't make you feel like a winner. I need to work hard tomorrow.
Hey, I just realised that the toy lion is actually a little purse. It has a zip in its stomach!
I'm going to put my headphones on and listen to some music. Maybe it will help. Julio has a very soft and relaxing voice.
Day six - Saturday
Toni woke me early today. His face looming over me was the absolute first thing I saw. It really looks like he's dyed his hair. I should ask him about that one time.
"Time to get up," he said. Then, "You slept in those?"
I still had my headphones on. Over his shoulder, through the open bedroom door, I saw Maymo and Carlos eating toast and drinking coffee. Maymo looked up at me, then he reached for his notebook and wrote something in it.
"It's early," I said.
"It's 10am."
"Exactly what I said – early."
"We need to work on all the thing you're doing badly."
All the things. My stomach was very sore, still. I rubbed it and stared up at the ceiling and thought that he was exactly right. He's always right.
We were out of the hotel by 10.45, heading over to the grounds in a tournament car. I put on my headphones and gazed out of the window at the city as it slipped by. How can people live in such a big confusing place?
Roger was already playing by the time we arrived, so there was the predictable total chaos everywhere, but at least the practise courts only had my fans, so the chaos was about 50% lessened there.
"I'm going to scout," Carlos said.
"Do you really need to?" Toni said. "At this stage?"
Meaning we didn’t even know if I'd make it to the final. Or if Roger would.
"Yeah." Carlos smiled. "I like to watch Roger's matches anyway."
"Tell me the score," I called. It's weird how playing tennis means I don't get to watch much of it.
"I'll text you."
Roger won even though the game was a bit of a mess, Carlos told me later. I doubt we'll meet in the final. Andy and Juan Martin are far bigger headaches for me. I chatted a little with Juan Martin today after practise. He said someone had stolen two of his commemorative towels but that no one would admit to it. He seemed pretty upset about it, too. I told him he could have one of mine and he cheered up a lot.
How's your body? someone asked me last night in the presser. I said it was fine. What else was I going to say? It does its job, mostly. Sometimes I talk with Uncle Miguel about what my injuries might mean for me in the future. He knows a lot of things, like how it feels to wake up at forty years old with knees aching from things he did to them in his twenties. But, well. My life is dream and it's important to be grateful.