Lose Yourself

9. Buzzing Mosquitoes

A/N: Wakanda Forever

"I'm not going to the World Cup."

Auba had been concentrating on lacing up his boots from his seat in the change rooms, but upon hearing this, he glanced up quickly, meeting the gaze of his best friend. Laca looked a little forlorn, but Auba knew that was nothing in comparison to what he felt, and the Gabonese felt his own heart sinking into his boots.

"Aw, Laca," he sighed, standing up, and pulling his friend into a hug. Laca moved his own arms to return the embrace, and Auba heard him sigh. "How do you know?" He wondered.

"Deschamps called me and told me. He's prefers Giroud, so he's taking him instead."

"What?! That's..." Auba began, but broke off, sadly. "The two of you are just different strikers, I guess. France could win with either of you, though."

"I think that's what hurts the most," said Laca.

It was Auba's turn to sigh, not really sure what to say to comfort him. As kids, it had been their dream to win the World Cup together, but since then, so many things in Auba's life had changed. He'd made the decision to play for Gabon, and was resigned to the fact that, short of his country actually hosting the World Cup, he would never make it to the big stage. It was something he had accepted long ago. But Laca had all the hope in the world for this year, only to be told he wasn't what the coach was looking for?

"Auba, Laca! Come on!" Hector's voice came from the open doorway to the change rooms, and the two strikers glanced around to see that everyone else had left for training. Hector's head appeared round the doorway, but his eyes softened when he saw the two of them. "Are you guys okay?" He asked, in quieter tones.

Auba wasn't sure whether or not to respond, but luckily, Laca beat him to it.

"I'm not going to the World Cup this year, that's all," said the Frenchman, with a shrug. "We were just talking about it."

"What? How come?" Hector's eyes widened. "Wait, dont answer that. As much as I'd love to have a pity party for you, we need you two at your telepathic best right now. Laca, believe me, I know how much it sucks to miss a World Cup, but you can't let it define you. We play Liverpool at the end of the week, you can take out your frustrations on them."

Laca finally smiled a little, shaking his head, and he began heading for the door, patting Hector on the shoulder as he passed him.

"Thanks, Heccy. I... I don't know. Let's forget it for now. Liverpool, yeah?"

"Yeah. Go make Deschamps wish he picked you instead."

Laca chuckled ruefully, and disappeared out the door. Auba watched him go for a moment, and wished he could have known what to say to cheer Laca up as Hector had been able to. But Hector's eyes were now on him, and Auba too headed for the door.

"What about you?" Hector wondered, as he passed him. "Are you okay?"

"Me?" Auba wondered, with a chuckle. "I'm fine, brother. Gabon will never make a World Cup, I don't have that problem."

"That's probably just as well for the rest of us," Hector grinned at him cheekily, as he fell into step beside him. "Who you gonna support then?"

"Naija," Auba replied, instantly.

"Nigeria?" Hector repeated blankly, clearly not expecting that response.

"Have you seen their kits?" Auba laughed. "They're swag. I want one."

"Man said swag," Hector repeated, shaking his head. "You're unbelievable, bro. I thought you would support France?"

"I will support France as well," Auba laughed. "And Australia, for Jordyn."