the ball hit the floor with a thud, bouncing between his hands in an almost hypnotic rhythm. The sun was barely filtering through the grates of the field, drawing broken shadows on the asphalt. He had been there for an hour, maybe more, but he didn't count the minutes. Every shot, every bounce was a way to keep his thoughts away, to chase away that knot that was tightening his stomach.

Pietro Maggi was playing like never before and his best friend, as always, for years, was cheering for him in the crowds, cheering at his shots.

you had always been best friends, since you were kids, your families were best friends too so it wasn't strange.

you knew everything about each other, you had bathed together when you were kids and there was not a shred of shame between you.

you were like brothers... or so you thought. At the end of the game and the victory of Pietro's team, the whole team went to the locker room and, obviously, who were you not to enter without permission? in the end, it wasn't even the first time, they were all used to it.

once inside, the boy walked towards Pietro with his back turned, intent on taking off his shirt.

«could I have the honor of having an autograph from the great Pietro Maggi or do I have to queue like the other mere mortals?»

said in a sarcastic tone, crossing your arms over your chest, the rest of the team (not at all surprised by your presence) rolled their eyes, laughing.