[ two ]

She was still laid out on the pitch, with her hands over her face in embarrassment when she heard footsteps approaching. For a second, she thought maybe it was Ronaldo who came back to mock her for a second time, but those thoughts soon left her mind when she noticed this person's footsteps sounded rather hurried. And she realized whoever it was had probably forgotten something.

Not wanting to be seen in defeat, she took her hands on her face and made an effort to get back on her feet, but the person had already seen her on the ground. 

It was Kaká.

"What are you doing on the floor?" He asked, confused.

"Oh, you know," She began in a sarcastic tone, "I'm just familiarizing myself with the pitch."

He chuckled at that. "You're really strange." He told her, his Brazilian accent rising to the surface and for one reason or another, she found it to be quite attractive.

"It was a joke." She sighed, noticing he hadn't caught on.

"Oh." He said simply, his smile fading.

Marilz got back on her feet slowly. There was still an aching pain in her body from the push Ronaldo had given her and she rubbed her throbbing shoulder. Remembering there were still things to gather, she thought she would get started.

"So, what made you return to the pitch?" She asked curiously, "I thought everyone would be gone by now."

A smile brightened his face. He walked over to the dugout, where the substitues sit during a game and bent down to pick up something under one of the seats. "I forgot my training jacket." He informed her, pulling a white zip up from under the chairs.

Her feet carried her across the lush green grass of Santiago Bernabeu until she reached the goal net that was set up.

Reaching as high as she could, she tried to untie the net from the posts, but being 5'4ft in height didn't help. She couldn't reach it. She was startled when, from behind her, she heard footsteps approaching and next she saw him undo the knot that was secured around the goal post tightly. "Let me help you." He told her with a polite smile.

Mariluz couldn't help but blush.

"Thank you." She replied.

Looking around the field for a second, he asked, "Where is Cris? I heard he was gonna help clean up."

"I told him he could head home and I'd take care of things here." She lied with a shrug of her shoulders.

"If Cris is giving you a hard time, you can say so and I'll talk to him." Ricardo told her.

But she shook her head quickly. "No, everything is fine."

"Are you sure?" He insisted. "Because I remember when I first joined the team, the other guys told me I was lucky that Cris didn't shun me like he did with other new comers." Patting me on the shoulder reassuringly, he added, "Don't worry, he's just a very guarded person, but you'll grow on him and soon you'll see what a great friend he is."

"If you say so." She muttered.

After helping her take down the nets and using them as bags to hold the soccer balls, she and Ricardo dragged them into one of the equipment closets together.

Being a Barcelona fan, she had always seen the Real Madrid footballers as selfish crybabies, but the way Ricardo had acted towards her made her think that maybe some of them were actually worth getting to know. 

He dusted his hands off before offering one for her to shake. "Ricardo Izecson Dos Santos Leite." He introduced himself with his full name. "But everyone calls me Kaka."

Taking his large, bony hand in hers, she asked, "Why do people call you that?"

When they pulled away from their hand shake, he ran a hand through his thick dark brown hair a light chuckle escape his lips as a fond memory filled his thoughts. "My brother Rodrigo couldn't pronounce Ricardo when he was a little boy and so he would call me Kaka and it just stuck with me."

Mariluz smiled at him. "Can I call you Ricardo?" She asked, "Kaka is a little overrated when it comes to you, don't you think?"

He returned the smile, though he was surprised that the new guy wanted to call him by his real name when everyone else seemed keen on calling him Kaka. Still, he nodded, "You can call me anything you want." Adding quickly with a chuckle, "As long as its nothing dirty or insulting."

"I would never insult you." She assured him. "I hear you're a legend."

Eyeing her suspiciously, he pointed out. "You heard? I thought you were a Madrid fan. Surely you would know about me."

"I--uh, yeah." She said nervously. The first thing she could think to do next was punch him lightly on the shoulder. "I was just joking, mate. I know you're a legend. Everyone who's a fan of Madrid knows you."

They stood outside of the equipment closet, talking in the dim hallway of the tunnel in Santiago Bernabeu. Outside, the sun was beginning to set and Mariluz thought she should head home if she didn't want to walk in the night.

"Well, welcome to the team, Bartra." He said to her.

"Thanks." She responded. Gesturing towards a long hallway with an exit at the end, she added, "I should probably go."

She turned to walk down the hallway, leaving him standing there before he could reply. From where he stood, he called out to her, "I'll see you tomorrow then."

Her feet carried her down the hall in a hurry and she pushed the door open that led into the vast parking lot. There was only one car left there and she assumed it was Ricardo's. She cut through the lot until she reached the street that was busy with cars, probably with people rushing home from work.

She stopped a couple of yards outside of the stadium, sliding her hand into her pocket to pull out her cellphone. Swiping her thumb over the screen to unlock it, she clicked on her contact list and searched for her friend's name.

She typed out a message.

"Marce, come pick me up pls."

"Can't." Marcela replied, adding another message after. "Your brother came over and he doesn't know about the plan, remember?"

Mariluz' older brother Marc happened to be Marcela's boyfriend.

They had met one day when Mariluz invited her over. Though at first they didn't like each other because she was a die-hard Madrid fan and he played for Barcelona. Eventually they put their differences aside, mostly Marcela, and she started to support FC Barcelona.

"How will I get to your house? Its like two miles from Santiago Bernabeu!"

For the Spain classic, the Barcelona boys had travelled to the country's capital. And Marcela, originally being from Madrid, had family in Madrid which had allowed them to stay with them for a few days.

Mariluz threw her head back, looking up to the heavens. "Just my fucking luck." She groaned.

Next to her, she heard a car stop and looked back down to see Ricardo. "Need a ride?" He asked.

"I'm getting a ride from a friend." She told him.

"Get in." He insisted. "I'll take you home."

Rolling her eyes at him in mock annoyance, she went around to the passenger's side and got in the car. "Only because its getting late."

Keeping his eyes on the road, he put the car into drive and they were on their way. "Which way do you live?"

Biting her lip nervously, she admitted, "I think she lives down Avenida San Bartolome, but I'm not too sure. The thing is we arrived yesterday and its her house. I'm going to have to leave in a few days though and find an apartment of my own. So if you hear of any good ones close by, please let me know."

"Oh, well you can stay at my flat." He suggested politely.

"Bullshit!" She excaimed.

He coughed as if he were choking on something and that was when she remembered he was like the priest of the Real Madrid team.

"Sorry." She apologized.

"Its okay." He assured her. "I'm just not used to saying profanities."

"So I've heard." She nodded. "But thank you so much for letting me stay with you."

"No problem." He said, "It gets lonely there all by myself. I'm not from this country, as you already know, and it'll make me feel better to have another foreigner around."

"That's why you and Cristiano get on so well." She pointed out. "He speaks your language, so he reminds you of home."

"He's my best friend." He stated with a warm smile.

Reaching for her phone once more, she unlocked it to send Marcela a new text message.

"Marce, bring my luggage outside. There has been a change of plans."

Mariluz was thankful she had gone with a neutral luggage color like royal blue instead of pink as she originally intended. She would have had a hard time justifying her reasons for a boy having a girl's luggage.

-

SO GUYS, WHILE WRITING THIS SECOND CHAPTER, A LOT OF THINGS CAME UP IN MY MIND. FOR ONE, I KNOW I SAID HE WOULD HAVE A GIRLFRIEND, BUT I THINK IT'LL WORK BETTER IF HE DOESN'T.

AND I'M MAKING HIM TWENTY-FIVE NOW INSTEAD OF TWENTY-EIGHT BECAUSE THE BIG AGE GAP WILL BE FOR MY NEXT KAKA STORY IF THIS ONE GOES WELL.

ALSO, I KNOW MOURINHO ISN'T THE COACH FOR RM ANYMORE, I JUST PUT HIM THERE CAUSE ITS MY STORY AND I JUST WANT HIM THERE. SO YEAH, IF YOU LIKE NEYMAR, STAY TUNED. I HAVE A NEYMAR FANFICTION PLANNED TO APPEAR IN THE COMING WEEKS MOST LIKELY.

THANK YOU FOR READING AND SUPPORTING THIS STORY.

IT MEANS A LOT TO ME.

I LOVE YOU.

-CLARY xx