4 AM || Robert Lewandowski

FÜNFZEHN

Before he can even finish his sentence, Gadis has decided to raise her hand up in the air and slap Robert across the face.

The whole room seems to stop in motion as Robert automatically clutches his hand onto his now reddening cheek, "W—what was that for?!"

"For thinking so lowly of me!" the woman in front of him shouts with cynicism laced in every syllable. She slowly eyes the muted footballer in front of her, "I was merely a teen with raging hormones at that time, what did you expect?!"

"Why didn't you tell me the truth when we first talked?" the Polish international sneers. Gadis sighs for the umpteenth time before being cut off by the man once again, "What is so hard about telling me that you know me?"

"Because why does it matter?!" she exasperatedly bellows while throwing up both her hands in vexation, "You told me yourself you don't want someone to befriend you just because you're a footballer – and now that this happens, you're mad at me?"

Robert bites his lips in annoyance, "I'm just saying – it's a bit unfair to me, don't you think? You fucking knew what I look like and what I do for a living – heck, you could've known my entire background story – when I didn't even know what your hair color is at that time!"

"Oh," Gadis jeers, "Oh—alright, in other words, you were scared I would turn out to be under par when you're... you? It's all about materialism and physical looks, isn't it? You thought I was taking advantage of you, huh?"

"Jesus!" he shouts in frustration, "I wasn't—God, I wasn't even indicating that! You're just going off track now, for God's sake."

"Oh, yeah? Am I really going off track now?" the 22-year-old grimaces, causing Robert to ball his fists in anger, "I didn't tell you that I know who you are because I want you to be open to me; I don't want you to envision me as just another crazed fan of yours."

"Besides," Gadis exhales, "Do you really think I would date you just to become a WAG? After what we've been through?"

"What we've been through?" Robert chuckles somberly; apparently, his ego wouldn't stir clear and is still clouding his mind with ugly thoughts.

The Pole tends to utter out nasty things he would regret saying when he's mad, and boy is he in for a treat, "Gadis, liebe, I could definitely survive my days without you pretending to be my psychiatrist in that balcony of yours."

Once he has finished his sentence, Robert swears he could see hurt glinting in both Gadis' big doe eyes.

Before he can even utter out an apology, the woman is quick to mutter out a cynical response, "Robert Lewandowski, you're a cold-hearted asshole."

And just like that, Gadis disconsolately turns on her heels and exits the club, followed by a frantic-looking Kenneth who manages to shoot Robert a wary look.

Once again, Robert is left alone with nothing but a broken heart and a racing mind.

+++++

On the following day, Robert wakes up with a bitching hangover that makes him want to vomit every now and then; when your lover leaves you confused and broken-hearted alone in a nightclub, you just ought to drown your misery in nothing but alcohol.

Not long after, he finds himself tumbling and cussing in pain when dragging his curtains open, allowing sunlight to envelop the footballer's lonely apartment.

"Fuck," he curses when he takes a look at the time – 1:43 PM, "Pep's going to kill me."

Quickly doing the math in his head, the Pole has come up with a conclusion that he should get to the training center in approximately 17 minutes if he doesn't want his coach to kill him with his bare hands.