Rafa's diary - days thirteen and fourteen
Sep. 14th, 2009 03:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
louiseluxIt's the end of the road, for now. Thank you everyone for following this story! I'm probably going to edit and repost this as one long fic over the next few days, just to soothe my tidy mind.
Title: Rafa's Diary - days thirteen and fourteen
Pairing: Fedal
Warnings: worksafe
Notes: At some point later![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
niennah will be posting from Roger's POV. Yay! The first instalment is here.
day one day two day three day four day five day six day seven day eight day nine day ten day eleven day twelve
Day thirteen – Saturday
It took me about half an hour to win against Fernando. Amazing! I thought he would bring something more to the match. I didn't feel great serving. Everyone is asking about the stomach – I don't want to talk about it! But then when I sidestep and refuse, journalists simply make things up or speculate, and they're usually wrong. I talked to my dad on the phone this morning. He told me to stick with what I felt was the right thing to do.
I'm feeling bad about the DC tie. It's going to be tough on them without me or Fernando. Feli called me after dinner to ask me how I was. He sounded kind of depressed about it all, not very positive. I didn't like to hear it and told him so, straight out. But it's understandable. Like me, he's not having the best year. I watched him go out to Dent. There was no shame in that though – Dent was playing well. For Dent.
"You'd make a good coach," Feli said, sighing. "If you were less of a dick."
"I'd make a terrible coach," I said. "I'd yell too much."
"Nah, really—You'd be great," he said. "I mean it. You're a good motivator."
"So, what? Are you expecting me to retire soon?" I said, pretending to be angry, and that made him laugh. It was good to hear. We talked for about an hour, about nothing and everything. Friends, girls, football, other players.
"Are you seriously expecting to get to the final?" Feli asked, bluntly, like he does.
"No, of course not." But I want to be in it so much. So much. I couldn't say that part, not to anyone.
"Roger said somewhere he'd be waiting for you."
Feli likes it when Roger says things like this - I think he finds it funny. "I know. Yeah, well. He's always waiting for me these days," I said, and then Feli was quiet for a moment. "Anyway, he doesn't even know if he's gonna be in the final, so—whatever."
Everyone liked to play up the rivalry, even ourselves sometimes, making it into some cartoon event in bold colours. I feel it as something more fragile and personal – a link between our lives.
"It'll be okay," he said. "Soon. You just need a break."
I don't know what will happen tomorrow. It could be my last day here. The lion sits right next to me on its table, watching me with yellow plastic eyes. It's silly, but I turn it to look away before I can go to sleep.
Day fourteen – Sunday
I am on the plane home. In Mallorcan time it's the morning but my body is on New York time and it's just the normal time I sleep. I'm not tired yet. The cabin has slowly fallen into darkness and there are sounds of everyone's sleeping breaths around me, slow and gentle. Not very far away from me, Toni is a motionless lump under a blanket. These seats are very clever in how they turn into a bed. He's looked so tired for the past few days – I'm glad he's got something decent to sleep on.
Carlos managed to change the flights to Sunday. Somewhere along the way we got an upgrade to this nice business class section. We had flights for Monday originally... Yes, in case I won. To tell the truth, I never expected to win. It was just that the little bright star of hope was hanging over all our heads.
Tomorrow we are seeing my doctor. No one expects the news to be great, but at least it's not going to be something terrible. Toni is most worried that it's become a hernia, but we'll see. All I want at this moment is to not have pain. It puts me in a bad mood and I'm having to be careful not to snap at Toni and Carlos and Maymo.
The whole day has been an ordeal, from the preparation to the match to the press afterwards. There was one nice moment though: Roger came to find me after my match and before his own. I am thinking that Toni thought it was tasteless of him to come and say something to me—this guy who was likely to win the title-- but Roger and I grinned at each other under his disapproval like we were sharing a private joke. It was a funny moment.
He doesn't come and talk to me often. I wish we could talk more.
"How are you?" he said, waiting to ask once Toni had moved off.
"Not great. Not bad. It's a tear, so…"
"That's not great."
"Yeah, well. I still could have tried harder. I played badly."
"You can't blame yourself. Juan played great. You might've lost anyway, even fit."
Always so comforting! It made me laugh, which hurt my stomach muscles. "I know, he was good."
He brushed his hair back from his eyes, even though it wasn't even in them. He was so relaxed, not like he had a big match in a couple of hours. He was dressed in loose sweats and a t-shirt. I tried not to think about Saturday night and all the things I'd pictured. What is the point? Instead I remembered what Toni had said.
"What would you do?" I said. "If you were me?"
He blinked. "Now? In your position?" He looked very surprised I would ask such a thing—we pay big salaries to get this kind of advice from professionals, but he seemed to glow a little, like he was really pleased I'd asked. He looked thoughtful. "Well-- Of course, after the diagnosis, rest, treatment, rescheduling, all that, I would say the most important is to listen to your body. I don't know what else to say."
Was that it? I'm still turning those words over in my head now, as I listen to the rumble of the engines. Listen to your body. What does it mean? We talked for a little more. He wanted to know more about my itinerary for the rest of the year.
"Are you going to be ready for Shanghai?" he said.
"For sure. Well, I hope."
"Great." He touched my arm. I'm positive he noticed how I twitched at that light brush of his fingers. "I'm sorry you got the injury, okay?"
He meant: 'Sorry we can't play.' No one of us is going to say that out loud though.
"I know. There is next year here, no?"
"What? You don't expect get to final before then?"
"I never say that!"
Now we were smiling at each other. I became aware of how our gazes had fixed on each other, of how I'd forgotten about my surroundings. I felt suddenly completely exposed. Not an entirely pleasant feeling. What was going on in Roger's head? I have no idea - he's quite a mystery. With a little relief I saw that Toni was coming back. Roger's phone began to play a really bad tune.
He dug about in his pocket and frowned. "I have to be getting on."
"Yeah, okay" I said. "I'll-- See you soon."
"I hope so." Then he was gone, attention withdrawn, someone else demanding it. "Bye. See you, Toni."
The locker room settled back to normal. I did my many interviews, then went back to pack. It was total chaos, a pigsty in that room! I can't remember if I packed that damn lion.
It doesn't matter. We'll be landing soon, and I'll be home.
Title: Rafa's Diary - days thirteen and fourteen
Pairing: Fedal
Warnings: worksafe
Notes: At some point later
niennah will be posting from Roger's POV. Yay! The first instalment is here.day one day two day three day four day five day six day seven day eight day nine day ten day eleven day twelve
Day thirteen – Saturday
It took me about half an hour to win against Fernando. Amazing! I thought he would bring something more to the match. I didn't feel great serving. Everyone is asking about the stomach – I don't want to talk about it! But then when I sidestep and refuse, journalists simply make things up or speculate, and they're usually wrong. I talked to my dad on the phone this morning. He told me to stick with what I felt was the right thing to do.
I'm feeling bad about the DC tie. It's going to be tough on them without me or Fernando. Feli called me after dinner to ask me how I was. He sounded kind of depressed about it all, not very positive. I didn't like to hear it and told him so, straight out. But it's understandable. Like me, he's not having the best year. I watched him go out to Dent. There was no shame in that though – Dent was playing well. For Dent.
"You'd make a good coach," Feli said, sighing. "If you were less of a dick."
"I'd make a terrible coach," I said. "I'd yell too much."
"Nah, really—You'd be great," he said. "I mean it. You're a good motivator."
"So, what? Are you expecting me to retire soon?" I said, pretending to be angry, and that made him laugh. It was good to hear. We talked for about an hour, about nothing and everything. Friends, girls, football, other players.
"Are you seriously expecting to get to the final?" Feli asked, bluntly, like he does.
"No, of course not." But I want to be in it so much. So much. I couldn't say that part, not to anyone.
"Roger said somewhere he'd be waiting for you."
Feli likes it when Roger says things like this - I think he finds it funny. "I know. Yeah, well. He's always waiting for me these days," I said, and then Feli was quiet for a moment. "Anyway, he doesn't even know if he's gonna be in the final, so—whatever."
Everyone liked to play up the rivalry, even ourselves sometimes, making it into some cartoon event in bold colours. I feel it as something more fragile and personal – a link between our lives.
"It'll be okay," he said. "Soon. You just need a break."
I don't know what will happen tomorrow. It could be my last day here. The lion sits right next to me on its table, watching me with yellow plastic eyes. It's silly, but I turn it to look away before I can go to sleep.
Day fourteen – Sunday
I am on the plane home. In Mallorcan time it's the morning but my body is on New York time and it's just the normal time I sleep. I'm not tired yet. The cabin has slowly fallen into darkness and there are sounds of everyone's sleeping breaths around me, slow and gentle. Not very far away from me, Toni is a motionless lump under a blanket. These seats are very clever in how they turn into a bed. He's looked so tired for the past few days – I'm glad he's got something decent to sleep on.
Carlos managed to change the flights to Sunday. Somewhere along the way we got an upgrade to this nice business class section. We had flights for Monday originally... Yes, in case I won. To tell the truth, I never expected to win. It was just that the little bright star of hope was hanging over all our heads.
Tomorrow we are seeing my doctor. No one expects the news to be great, but at least it's not going to be something terrible. Toni is most worried that it's become a hernia, but we'll see. All I want at this moment is to not have pain. It puts me in a bad mood and I'm having to be careful not to snap at Toni and Carlos and Maymo.
The whole day has been an ordeal, from the preparation to the match to the press afterwards. There was one nice moment though: Roger came to find me after my match and before his own. I am thinking that Toni thought it was tasteless of him to come and say something to me—this guy who was likely to win the title-- but Roger and I grinned at each other under his disapproval like we were sharing a private joke. It was a funny moment.
He doesn't come and talk to me often. I wish we could talk more.
"How are you?" he said, waiting to ask once Toni had moved off.
"Not great. Not bad. It's a tear, so…"
"That's not great."
"Yeah, well. I still could have tried harder. I played badly."
"You can't blame yourself. Juan played great. You might've lost anyway, even fit."
Always so comforting! It made me laugh, which hurt my stomach muscles. "I know, he was good."
He brushed his hair back from his eyes, even though it wasn't even in them. He was so relaxed, not like he had a big match in a couple of hours. He was dressed in loose sweats and a t-shirt. I tried not to think about Saturday night and all the things I'd pictured. What is the point? Instead I remembered what Toni had said.
"What would you do?" I said. "If you were me?"
He blinked. "Now? In your position?" He looked very surprised I would ask such a thing—we pay big salaries to get this kind of advice from professionals, but he seemed to glow a little, like he was really pleased I'd asked. He looked thoughtful. "Well-- Of course, after the diagnosis, rest, treatment, rescheduling, all that, I would say the most important is to listen to your body. I don't know what else to say."
Was that it? I'm still turning those words over in my head now, as I listen to the rumble of the engines. Listen to your body. What does it mean? We talked for a little more. He wanted to know more about my itinerary for the rest of the year.
"Are you going to be ready for Shanghai?" he said.
"For sure. Well, I hope."
"Great." He touched my arm. I'm positive he noticed how I twitched at that light brush of his fingers. "I'm sorry you got the injury, okay?"
He meant: 'Sorry we can't play.' No one of us is going to say that out loud though.
"I know. There is next year here, no?"
"What? You don't expect get to final before then?"
"I never say that!"
Now we were smiling at each other. I became aware of how our gazes had fixed on each other, of how I'd forgotten about my surroundings. I felt suddenly completely exposed. Not an entirely pleasant feeling. What was going on in Roger's head? I have no idea - he's quite a mystery. With a little relief I saw that Toni was coming back. Roger's phone began to play a really bad tune.
He dug about in his pocket and frowned. "I have to be getting on."
"Yeah, okay" I said. "I'll-- See you soon."
"I hope so." Then he was gone, attention withdrawn, someone else demanding it. "Bye. See you, Toni."
The locker room settled back to normal. I did my many interviews, then went back to pack. It was total chaos, a pigsty in that room! I can't remember if I packed that damn lion.
It doesn't matter. We'll be landing soon, and I'll be home.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 02:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-16 10:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 04:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-16 10:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 04:15 pm (UTC);_______________________________________________________;
no subject
Date: 2009-09-16 10:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 04:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-16 10:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 05:04 pm (UTC)Thank you for keep nursing my abused nerves. I'm definitely going to miss this!
About his little stuffed lion, I kind of feel like it's sneaking into Roger's bag or pocket somehow... :)
no subject
Date: 2009-09-16 10:34 am (UTC)I'm really glad you've been enjoying it. Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 06:33 pm (UTC)I love you you wrote his internal voice, so many fantastic bits in it! Hope it can be continued somehow, even if it's not quite as regular as this one!
thank you hun!
xxx
no subject
Date: 2009-09-16 10:35 am (UTC)Many thanks indeed for the kind comments along the way.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-14 06:56 pm (UTC)this is so sad, lou. oh rafa. thanks for doing this diary - it's like the alternative blog, only much more compelling and much more articulate. (and slashier.)
no subject
Date: 2009-09-16 10:37 am (UTC)It's hard to get slashier than Rafa's actual blog sometimes, but he does need to put more gay porn in it tbh.
Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2009-09-15 03:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-16 10:39 am (UTC)Thanks for reading and commenting - I appreciate it lots.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-15 04:07 am (UTC)OMG! THIS! And, well, ALL OF IT! ♥
I kinda wish you could write a Rafa diary for every day ever.
ILU!
no subject
Date: 2009-09-16 10:40 am (UTC)I feel like I want to write it every day too. Maybe I will do more at the next tournament.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-16 10:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-17 03:49 am (UTC)stalkerreader here, who got here viaAlso nice to see a Fedal fic where their relationship is still in the process of developing and leaves potential for more to come, even given the events of this year. Again, thank you for writing this! ♥