Chapter Text
Rain slid down the windows of his hotel room in slow, uneven trails.
Jamal stood in front of the glass with his hands buried in the pockets of his trousers, watching the streets of Paris beneath the grey evening sky.
From this height, the city looked almost unreal.
The streets below were wet from the rain and a ton of umbrellas moved through the crowds and somewhere in the distance, the Eiffel Tower disappeared behind a curtain of rain.
Paris.
He had been here plenty of times before. Mostly for matches and sponsorship events, but somehow tonight felt different.
Maybe it was because of the fact that he wasn’t here for football.
He was here for something much more important than football could ever be for him.
He was here for Michael.
Michael, who he hadn’t seen in years properly. His Michael… the person he had never really stopped caring about, even after all those years.
The same Michael who had invited him to one of his biggest ballet performances in Paris.
And after the performance, there would be a charity event. A room full of famous faces, cameras and people who knew Michael as the celebrated danseur étoile the whole of France seemed to adore.
Michael was the golden boy of France, you literally could see that in every corner of France.
At the airport, Jamal had seen a huge advertisement with Michael’s face printed across a billboard and Michael looked so elegant and gorgeous on it, that Jamal couldn’t stop staring.
On the drive into the city, there had been another one.
Then a magazine cover in the hotel lobby and then an interview playing on one of the televisions downstairs.
Michael.
Again and again.
It seemed like every street corner had his face on it.
Paris practically belonged to him.
Jamal had even caught himself wondering how someone he had once known so well could suddenly feel like a stranger. A stranger… because that’s what the two of them are now. Strangers.
He wasn’t even sure if Michael knew that he was coming tonight.
Michael’s team had invited him and Alphonso tonight, because they were both famous footballers and that was exactly why they were here tonight. They were here for the charity event and for the cameras, nothing else mattered Jamal told himself.
A stupid little voice in the back of his head told him, that wasn’t true, because Michael mattered to him. He mattered so so much to him, even after all these years.
It hadn’t always been this complicated. Once, Michael had been the person Jamal saw almost every day…
They had been teenagers when they got together. Jamal could still remember the day when he saw Michael for the first time.
Jamal had been sixteen and Michael seventeen.
Jamal had seen Michael dancing.
That was all it had taken.
Jamal had been walking past the studio when he had stopped in front of one of the large windows. Inside, a group of young dancers had been rehearsing, but Jamal’s attention had immediately settled on one of them.
Michael.
Jamal hadn’t even known his name back then, he had just stood there and watched.
There had been something about the way Michael moved, so focused and so effortless as if his body simply knew what to do with it.
Jamal had never understood ballet.
Football had always been his world, but that afternoon, for the first time, he had wanted to understand.
And then he had met Michael.
What had started with a few awkward conversations had turned into the most memorable relationship Jamal ever had.
They were in love, chasing the careers they had only dreamed of as children.
It was magical, until Michael received the offer.
The Paris Opera Ballet.
It had been the kind of opportunity Michael had spent his entire life dreaming about. A chance to move to Paris, to train with one of the most prestigious ballet companies in the world.
Jamal had known he couldn’t ask him to stay.
Not for him.
Not when Michael had worked so long for this dream.
So Michael had gone to Paris and Jamal joined Bayern, chasing his own dream on the football pitch.
At first, they had tried to make the distance work.
They called whenever they could. Sent messages late at night. Promised each other that the next visit would be different.
But life had gotten in the way.
Jamal had training, matches, interviews and traveling, while Michael had rehearsals, performances and an entirely new life waiting for him in Paris.
One cancelled visit became another and one missed call became a conversation they would have later, but later never came…
And eventually, they had both realised something neither of them wanted to say out loud.
They were growing apart.
They hadn’t broken up because they had stopped loving each other and maybe that was what had hurt the most.
They had broken up because Michael had Paris waiting for him and Jamal had football waiting for him.
Neither of them had been willing to ask the other to give up their dream.
Years had passed since then. Eight years to be exact.
Now Michael was twenty five and Jamal twenty four.
Jamal had become everything he had once dreamed of becoming and Michael had become one of the biggest names in ballet.
And that was okay, Jamal told himself more than often, because that's how life goes, but that stupid little voice wouldn’t shut up and would told him Michael was still his Michael.
But even that wasn’t true anymore, because all Paris could talk about right now was the new power couple, Micheal and Kylian.
And all Jamal could feel was jealousy. Jealousy of Kylian, who took Michael away from him, without Jamal even having the chance to get to know the person Michael had become.
It was really unfair, but that’s how life goes. Wasn’t it?
Jamal rested his shoulder against the window frame and he could hear Alphonso sighing behind him.
“Ties are so stupid… why couldn’t this whole event be casual?” Alphonso asked, fumbling with his tie around his neck.
Jamal turned around and Alphonso's tie was really a disaster. One side was longer than the other and the knot looked so horrible done, that Jamal had to laugh.
“What’s so funny? I don’t find this whole thing funny at all.” Alphonso crossed his arms over his chest and looked Jamal straight into his eyes.
“Give it to me. I‘ll do it.”
Alphonso looked at him with deadpan look on his face, but still came over to Jamal. Jamal took the tie from him and fixed the knot with a few quick movements, before giving it back to Alphonso.
“You’re welcome,” Jamal said, looking out of the window again.
Alphonso looked at Jamal's back through the mirror, after he put on his tie properly this time.
“I didn’t said thank you.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Good,” Alphonso said as Jamal only rolled his eyes.
Alphonso watched him for a second.
“Are you nervous?” Alphonso asked after a moment of silence.
“No,” Jamal replied too fast, but even he couldn’t believe himself.
“You’ve been standing by the window for nearly twenty minutes. You’re either nervous or thinking.”
Jamal just shrugged and said, “I’m allowed to think.”
“Not for twenty minutes.”
“I’m fine.”
Alphonso gave him a look that clearly said he didn’t believe him, but he didn’t push and Jamal was grateful for that.
Ever since Jamal arrived in Paris, he couldn’t stop thinking about the past.
A special memory came back to him suddenly. He could feel it like it was yesterday.
Michael was sitting on the front steps outside his house, a brand new pair of ballet shoes in his hands.
Jamal had watched him for a few seconds, confused, as Michael bent the shoes carefully in his hands, working the soles back and forth and pressing them against the edge of the step.
“What are you doing to them?”
Michael looked annoyed up at Jamal, before replying, “They’re new.”
“And?”
“They need breaking in,” Michael said, as Jamal sat down beside him.
“Looks like you’re hurting them.”
Michael laughed quietly, “I’m not hurting them. I’m making them comfortable.”
“Hmm… they look fine to me.”
“You play football. What do you know about ballet?”
“More than you think,” Jamal said as he nudged his shoulder against Michael's.
“Let‘s play some football. I need training.”
“No,” Michael only said, having his focus entirely on his shoes.
“Five minutes.”
“Jamal,” Michael warned, but Jamal couldn’t stop himself.
“Ten?” Jamal asked and he didn’t miss the slight smile on Michael’s lips.
“I have rehearsal tomorrow, I need to train too… I don’t want to play football.”
Jamal sighed dramatically and leaned back on his hands.
“You never want to do anything fun.”
Michael gave him an offended look and said, “I dance for five hours a day.”
“Exactly. That’s not fun.”
Michael stared at him for a second before shaking his head and going back to his shoes. Jamal watched him bend the sole again.
“Come on,” he tried once more. “Just a few passes.”
“No.”
“I’ll go easy on you.”
“I don’t need you to go easy on me,” Michael laughed.
“I’ll even let you win.” Jamal suggested and that made Michael finally look up.
“Excuse me?”
“I said I’ll let you win,” Jamal repeated, grinning.
Michael slowly put the ballet shoe down.
“You’re so annoying, I would win anyway,” Michael said, shaking his head.
They were silent for a few seconds before Michael finally said, “Fine. One game,” and Jamal's face immediately lit up.
“Really?”
“Yes, let’s go before I change my mind.”
Jamal jumped to his feet and grabbed Michael’s hand, who laughed as Jamal pulled him towards the garden.
“Wait! My shoes!”
“They’ll be fine.”
“No, they won’t! It will rain later,” Michael insisted as he quickly went back for them, placing them inside before following Jamal outside again and in that moment none of it mattered. Not the future and not Paris.
Not football or ballet or the fact that one day, their dreams might pull them apart. They were just two teenagers in a garden, completely and hopelessly in love with each other.
Jamal wondered if he got the chance to speak with Michael tonight. Would Michael even want that?
Jamal sighed. It wouldn’t matter anyway, because Michael was now in a relationship and he looked happy.
Jamal turned back to Alphonso, who was scrolling through his phone.
“Look at this. Kylian just posted this in his story, that’s not even three minutes ago.”
Jamal frowned slightly and stepped closer as Alphonso turned his phone towards him.
It was a short video.
Michael’s dressing room at the Paris Opera.
Jamal recognised it from the photos he had seen before, the long mirrors lining the walls, the bright lights surrounding them and costumes hanging neatly in the background.
Michael was sitting on the floor, in front of one of the mirrors, stretching himself.
Jamal watched as Michael’s eyes flickered towards the mirror.
Looking directly at the phone, which filmed him or better looking at Kylian.
And then Michael smiled.
It was small and almost amused. He wasn’t shocked that Kylian had filmed him, he smiled like he had known the camera was there all along… as if the video had been just meant for him.
The video ended before Jamal had properly registered it.
It was Ten seconds long, maybe less and Jamal could only stare at the screen for a moment.
Of course Kylian had posted Michael. He always posted Michael.
Not constantly and never for long, but often enough for people to go crazy over the clips… they were short clips, sometimes it was just a photo.
Michael was always seen in these videos or photos and Jamal had seen every single one of them.
Michael as he laughed at something Kylian had said.
Michael as he sat across from Kylian at a restaurant.
Michael as he was backstage after a performance, with flowers in his arms.
Kylian always seemed to post them without a warning, leaving them up for only a few minutes before deleting them again.
It felt like Kylian was making fun of Jamal, somehow.
And every time Michael didn’t seem bothered when Kylian filmed him. It seemed like Michael was a completely different person when he was in public and when he was alone with Kylian and only knew that Kylian was watching him.
It wasn’t big news that Kylian was bisexual. He had said openly in enough interviews and Jamal respected him for that. Not everyone is brave enough to talk openly about their sexuality, especially not in football.
But when he got together with Michael, everyone went crazy. Of course there were also haters but almost everyone was in love with the couple.
Jamal still remembered the paparazzi photos, which had appeared everywhere almost overnight.
There were photos of Kylian and Michael leaving a restaurant in Paris. Both held each other's hands, smiling as they looked at the ground.
Then came more and more paparazzi photos and eventually, neither of them had bothered denying anything.
Jamal had told himself at the time that he didn’t care… they had been broken up for years by then and Michael was allowed to move on.
Michael was allowed to be happy.
Jamal had no right to feel anything about it, but he still remembered exactly where he had been when he saw those photos and he still remembered how strange he felt after seeing them.
He had told himself that he wasn't jealous, because it had been easier that way.
“We should probably go,” Alphonso said as he tucked his phone back into his pocket.
Jamal looked down at his watch and they really needed to go, because Michael’s performance would start in less than an hour.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Jamal said as he grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair.
Alphonso studied him for a moment, before asking, “You sure that you’re okay?”
“I‘m fine,” Jamal answered for a second time this evening.
And yes maybe it was a lie, but he couldn’t care less.
Alphonso looked at him one last time before opening the door, stepping into the hallway.
In less than an hour, Jamal was going to see Michael again. He looked around the room one last time before following Alphonso out the door and closing it behind him.
And suddenly Jamal wasn't so sure if he was ready for that evening.