From Me To You

Chapter 7 - Seleção

James promised good seats, and he didn't disappoint.

After the photo shoot for Sexiest Man Alive he made sure I got a ticket with a good view of the game.

The atmosphere was energetic and the stadium was full of Colombians. I was set to meet up with Marcelo after the game since the pass I had corresponded to the Brazilian team.

Tension was high. Revenge was the word. The match between Brazil and Colombia that threw Colombia out of the World Cup was devastating to watch but we had a good run and we all have to move on and look forward to the next World Cup and the Copa America where I'm sure the Colombian national team won't disappoint.

I sat there chatting with some guy next to me for a while and we both drank beer as the lights began to dim and the only light in the stadium, besides the ones on the players, came from phones; it was all quite beautiful.

Oscar almost made it in and I felt my heart almost explode. I have a great love for Oscar but I didn't want Brazil to make one goal.

Neymar. I've never personally met him, I've seen him at work if he'd drop by, but I never had to deal with him. He was being pinned to the ground left and right. I honestly felt terrible for him, I'm a big fan and I soon realized what some of the Colombian players were doing.

I've seen Brazil do this to James at the World Cup and although I was on the opposing side this time, I still was not having the abuse they were dishing out.

Half time came quickly and the amount of yellow cards and fouls Colombia had committed finally sunk in and I knew where this match was heading.

The guy I spoke to during the game left me alone for a minute to go get some food for his friend and him. I checked my phone and the amount of messages were overwhelming. People were mad, mad at Brazil. I was mad at both teams. This was the worst match I've seen since the last one they played together. I wasn't sure if they'd let me see them with a pass even, there were FIFA officials here, I doubted the fact that I'd get through. Shortly after, half time was over.

I almost bit my nails at the sight of Neymar rolling over thirty times, Cuadrado getting a red card and the whole match itself. The crowd still went wild when James appeared on the jumbo screen, I only held my breath.

Falcao was the only thing I yelled, if I ever parted my lips during the match at all. I was done with it all.

Oscar was gone, David Luiz was gone. James was gone and Falcao finally entered, but I wanted both of them on the field at the same time.

Neymar. Goal from Neymar.

The heavy Colombian population yelled in frustration. I almost clapped because of the devastation Colombia was causing me.

There was a chance to tie it, but they couldn't manage to.

The whistle. Some Brazilian fan next to me put his hands together before he turned to look at me. One solid clap then he acknowledged the look on my face. I got up and headed to the lockers. Marcelo was waiting for me and I exchanged jerseys with him after he saw the look on my face. We made it to the white halls and the Brazilian team was there. I decided to get to the Colombian team quick, as soon as the Brazilian team saw Marcelo with me they started cheering and laughing, I took that opportunity to take Marcelo's sweater and rush past all of them before they asked about me. The noise quieted down as I made it through another set of double doors and I zipped up the sweater.

They were all changing, heads down. Pékerman came in right after me and when he spoke they all looked up.

He gave a speech and I moved to the corner of the room, listening and eyeing them all. I had pulled the sleeves over my hands and began to bite at my thumb when I made eye contact with James. I gave him a weary smile as Pékerman left and James put his head back down.

"You guys were great out there, and it was clear you tried your hardest, but you were all fantastic," I lied as I passed by them all.

They did try their hardest that's for sure but I wasn't ecstatic because of their performance.

I made my way to James and sat down on the edge of the bench closest to his locker.

"You're such a liar," he shook his head. "I saw you from the field, you had the most terrified look on your face," he chuckled again.

I got up and swatted his arm.

"They played so dirty," I tried yelling whilst whispering to him.

He didn't want to agree so he just shook his head. Falcao passed by us.

"Some of you guys played a bit dirty," Falcao spoke out loud not taking his eyes off of me.

I hid my face behind James in embarrassment but James just laughed and moved aside as Falcao argued with some of the guys about the Brazilian players and their tactics.

I hitched a ride on the team's bus to the hotel I shared with them and sat in the window seat as James sat next to me in aisle. The ride was quiet but long as the busy streets of Miami were full of Colombian and Brazilian fans trying to get home. The team began to cheer a bit when they caught a look at how happy and proud some of the Colombians passing by were, lightened the mood up a bit.

James and I were sitting alone in the last row of the bus as he inched closer.

"How was I?" He asked hesitantly.

"Didn't you hear the crowd?" I ask in response.

"Those were all ladies cheering, besides, I want your opinion."

I've seen his latest matches, the Real Madrid ones, I saw how hard he was on himself and he honestly played very well, but I had to tell him that sincerely so he wouldn't beat himself up as much as he already does. It somehow hurts to see him that way.

"James, there is not one game that you fail at anything ever," I turn sideways and grab his hand. "You hear this, I'm sure, all the time but you're an amazing player and super talented. I see you after you take a shot and miss, don't be so hard on yourself."

He nods and turns back in his chair, says nothing, just a tight squeeze of my hand which he didn't let go of until we got to the hotel.