Football One Shots

Sergi Roberto: Mi Mejor Amigo es Mi Amor(Part Two)

Reminder: this is part two so if you don't remember part one or haven't read part one yet, don't forget to!!

Sergi had broke up with Anabella within the next week after our talk. To say she was upset would be an understatement, she had yelled and yelled for almost two hours, according to Sergi. Finally, she had yelled the thing Sergi was waiting to hear. The only reason he put up with her annoying and overdramatic yells. That she didn't love him. Despite expecting to hear her yell that, he couldn't help but feel his heart crumple into a thousand pieces. Though, his emotional pain was quickly met with physical when Anabella threw a book at his head.

That's what I've gotten from him anyways. The bright red tint on his cheek causing a few extra long glances from his teammates which caused him to feel awkward. Those are the only things that he has admitted to me. Other than that it has been awkward pauses and unanswered questions. The longest I've gotten him to talk was when I ask about his football and even that is short lived.

So drastic situations cause for drastic measures. I have been driving Sergi to training every day since he's sleeping over my house, and I know exactly how to get him out of this bad place.

He wasn't performing as hard as he could. The Barcelona team can be understanding. A bad day is forgotten, a bad week is forgiven, and a bad month is easily ignored by a goal, but a bad three months is unacceptable.

I had to do something, it was getting to the point where he was getting benched. Sergi didn't even seem to care anymore. He just sulked all day. He'd sit and eat ice cream on the couch, lay in bed all day, only getting up when I dragged him out for training. He wouldn't even be going if I wasn't making sure he was.

Marc Bartra can't even get Sergi to talk while training. He's tried everything. I sighed as I waited for the boy to come out, first and alone. I couldn't take the depressed Sergi Roberto anymore. It was figuratively and literally killing me.

The car door opened and Sergi sighed heavily, connecting his phone to the auxiliary cord and blasting his musica. He stared at his phone for nearly fifteen minutes before he even bothered to glance up.

"Where are we going?" Sergi asked.

"A place." I answered.

"I wanna go home, bring me home." Sergi whined.

"No." I monotoned.

Sergi sighed loudly and then went back on his phone. Presumably searching up Anabella and trying to stalk her life without him.

After almost two and a half hours of driving, we finally reached the spot I knew would depress him enough to move on.

"Why are we here?" Sergi asked.

He looked around the graveyard before looking back at me with wide, sad brown eyes and I melted.

"Let's go talk with somebody you haven't in months." I suggested softly.

Sergi got out of the car and I followed behind him go his grandmother's tombstone. He took a deep breath.

"Hola abuela." Sergi said.

I slowly backed away just to make sure he wouldn't just sit there for a minute and leave. Once he committed to talking, I headed for the car.

I was singing along to an Enrique Iglesias song when the car door opening scared the shit out of me. Sergi reached for the volume and turned it down. He placed an elbow on the car door and looked out the window. He had been there for close to a half hour.