Whisperings | Paulo Dybala |

Chapter VI ↝ Paulo

I was standing in front The Penge before heading to the parking lot just taking in a mouthful of fresh air at the top of the hill where the restaurant was located and enjoying the view of the long roads ahead only lit up by dim streetlights and cars in the distance. 

"I know I have only been here for a short amount of time but I have a feeling that I might have a sweet spot for views like this that the city offers," a soft voice with Argentinian accent spoke behind me but I was still taken by surprise and jumped a little. "I am sorry if I scared you, it was not my intention to just sneak up on you," she laughed and touched my shoulder.  

It was Andrea. I know, you might think: "who else could it have been?" but like she said we only just met each other and it does take some time to get used to hearing a fellow white and light blue born voice in Turin besides from Higuain's constant speak of nonsense. I looked at her and smiled, "It is all right, luckily you snapped me out of my stare otherwise I would have been standing out here the whole night. But you are right, it was also and still is one of my favourite things about Turin and it makes me miss home a bit less."

"Do you miss Argentina a lot?" she asked and did not break eye contact and I just then realized how clear her green eyes were. 

"Well, I am starting to get used to it by now, but I believe it will always be hard to leave your home. And before you make your new location with your new family your home it will not get any easier" I spoke and meant every word of it. "So my advice to you is to surround yourself with good people, take a deep breath and try to get comfortable here, then the approximate 11.000-kilometre distance will not feel as far or matter that much anymore."

"Thank you, a lot, Paulo - that was really helpful I will try to remember that. Oh wait, can I call you Paulo or do you prefer Dybala or Mr Dybala?" she grin. 

"You can call me whatever you want to, but just skip the mister part, please. It makes me feel like my dad, " I laughed and shot her a smile. I swear I saw her blush a tiny bit in the dark, but it could also be my imagination running wild. 

Without a word, we both started walking slowly towards the parking lot a few hundred meters away but surprisingly enough it was not an awkward silence, it was just silence for a few moments. 

"So tell me a little bit about yourself" it burst out of me even though I knew it was one of the most basic and dumb things to say. Nice one, Paulo. 

She giggled, cleared her throat and then spoke in a very posh way. "Ahem, mister Dybala you asked me to tell you a little bit about myself, and even though I know you will probably not find this as amusing as you might have hoped for I will fulfil your wish and tell you my very dull story."

I snickered quite a lot, and then actually listened with amusement to her telling all about her childhood in Bariloche with her mother, Carlotta, and father, Miguel - whom apparently has a big beard and makes a good Santa impression each year at Christmas time to the joy of the children in her neighbourhood. She also spoke about her three older brothers, Lucas the mechanic, Emilio the engineer and Vicente the painter, and then at last how she herself helped raise the money for her first trip to Italy in high school as an exchange student which lead her to the city of Frosinone where she just quit her job and came to here from. 

I could truly relate to her story since I myself underwent some of the same things she experienced when I just like her moved from Argentina to Italy at a young age to pursue my dream without my parents. For that reason only I possess a huge amount of respect for her, and at the same time, I was pleased to witness her just seem so calm, sure of herself and full of love for others which was probably why we ended up just standing there and talking in the parking lot of The Penge for almost 40 minutes. Time just flew by as we were discussing the differences and the similarities in our youths in both Argentina and in Italy but at some point, it hit me that Irina was without a doubt waiting for me at home with a thousand questions about my whereabouts and so I asked Andrea: "by the way, how are you getting home from here?"

"I am calling a cab, I guess. That was at least how I got here," she said and I could see the sparks in her eyes. 

"No, nonsense - I am driving you home, come on, hop in," I exclaimed and nodded towards my car. I was already late and I would rather be sure that she got home safe than risk her getting robbed or something like that on one of her first nights in town. Besides, it would make a great excuse to talk a bit more with her...

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Let me know what you think of the story so far, and please leave all suggestions for the plot - I do have everything planned, but I would love to make it even better with your ideas:)))