His face is white. She's never seen him look scared before, not her father.
"Don't worry," she tells him, or tries to. She has to let him know it'll be all right, has to get that look off his face. "I'm okay."
how protective he is is just. and really, how protective she is of him is so indicative of their relationship and of how similar she really is to him, despite how hard she tries not to be. i found it really interesting that all of the ways she tried to separate herself- from him, from what is expected of lady ballers (the interview bit, in particular), ended up making them more similar.
and that it's this injury, the same injury, it's an injury he knows SO well. the exchange between them, this one-
He keeps saying that, over and over, as she sobs into his shoulder. Her entire body's shaking. She can't look at him. "It'll be okay," he says. "I know. I promise."
She has to take several gulps, for air, to fight down the rest of the tears. "They said I can't -- I can't play -- "
"Bullshit," her father says, and it's so far from what she's expecting that she physically starts.
The doctor said, she feels like she should say, or But they'll have to operate, I might not even-- Instead she doesn't move, waiting, trying to choke back even the smallest shudder: unable, try as she might, to stamp out the wild surge of hope.
"Listen to me," he says into her ear, fierce and savage. "Fuck them. They don't know what the fuck they're talking about. It's not over unless you want it to be."
His arms tighten and he gives her a little shake.
"They don't think it's worth it. They think it's too much, too much money or too much work or too much time. They don't know you. Understand? You can do it. It'll be hard but if you want it, we -- you can do it. I can get the right people, they'll work with you, or -- " He takes a breath.
"Or me," he says. "Every day, if you want. I swear. I swear."
She just nods into his shoulder.
what they both want is finally, undeniably, the same thing, even if it's what he wanted however many years ago. they're finally forced into a situation (a shitty one) in which they were in the exact same position and nothing she can say or think or do can change that, and that that's what it takes for her to accept what he's been trying to give her all along- it's sad, but it's also so, so beautiful. i feel like this is when she takes the chip on her shoulder- because now it's even bigger- and she understands a little bit of where his comes from. and she finally just accepts how much he loves her and how much he wants her to have everything she wants, even if it can't be what he had, and she also accepts how much she loves him and it doesn't make her feel like she's betraying herself. absolutely stunning.
It's not a parent's: it's a player's.
"Don't worry," he says. "You'll win the one that counts."
the way you present this is like, she's never r e a l l y seen david villa, el siete de espana, you know? she's seen videos of him and she knows what he did but he's always kept that version of him out of his relationship with her- how he doesn't swear in front of her until the hospital bit, and how he is always soft with her- and now she sees it and realizes that it's not such a bad thing to be like DV. and how fierce he is for her, just. i love the father/daughter relationship.
Zaida skids to a stop in front of his corner, on the far right, by the goal. She pumps a fist in the air and the cheering swells. Then she cocks her arm back over her shoulder, thumb pointing down, and turns her back to the stands so they can see her name. So everyone who saw that goal knows who she is.
VILLA 7
this was not only the only possible ending, it is the best ending. it says so much, so so much. his fucking goal celebration. his name, his number, but it's hers too, and it's her goal and her celebration. and how it- so the stands know who SHE IS, not where she comes from or who her father is, but who she is, just. how she's recognized that she can take everything he gave her and provided for her and worked so hard for her to have and still be her own player, her own great player.
this is a truly stunning piece of writing, and i applaud you.
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branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2012-01-04 11:35 pm (UTC)His face is white. She's never seen him look scared before, not her father.
"Don't worry," she tells him, or tries to. She has to let him know it'll be all right, has to get that look off his face. "I'm okay."
how protective he is is just. and really, how protective she is of him is so indicative of their relationship and of how similar she really is to him, despite how hard she tries not to be. i found it really interesting that all of the ways she tried to separate herself- from him, from what is expected of lady ballers (the interview bit, in particular), ended up making them more similar.
and that it's this injury, the same injury, it's an injury he knows SO well. the exchange between them, this one-
He keeps saying that, over and over, as she sobs into his shoulder. Her entire body's shaking. She can't look at him. "It'll be okay," he says. "I know. I promise."
She has to take several gulps, for air, to fight down the rest of the tears. "They said I can't -- I can't play -- "
"Bullshit," her father says, and it's so far from what she's expecting that she physically starts.
The doctor said, she feels like she should say, or But they'll have to operate, I might not even-- Instead she doesn't move, waiting, trying to choke back even the smallest shudder: unable, try as she might, to stamp out the wild surge of hope.
"Listen to me," he says into her ear, fierce and savage. "Fuck them. They don't know what the fuck they're talking about. It's not over unless you want it to be."
His arms tighten and he gives her a little shake.
"They don't think it's worth it. They think it's too much, too much money or too much work or too much time. They don't know you. Understand? You can do it. It'll be hard but if you want it, we -- you can do it. I can get the right people, they'll work with you, or -- " He takes a breath.
"Or me," he says. "Every day, if you want. I swear. I swear."
She just nods into his shoulder.
what they both want is finally, undeniably, the same thing, even if it's what he wanted however many years ago. they're finally forced into a situation (a shitty one) in which they were in the exact same position and nothing she can say or think or do can change that, and that that's what it takes for her to accept what he's been trying to give her all along- it's sad, but it's also so, so beautiful. i feel like this is when she takes the chip on her shoulder- because now it's even bigger- and she understands a little bit of where his comes from. and she finally just accepts how much he loves her and how much he wants her to have everything she wants, even if it can't be what he had, and she also accepts how much she loves him and it doesn't make her feel like she's betraying herself. absolutely stunning.
It's not a parent's: it's a player's.
"Don't worry," he says. "You'll win the one that counts."
the way you present this is like, she's never r e a l l y seen david villa, el siete de espana, you know? she's seen videos of him and she knows what he did but he's always kept that version of him out of his relationship with her- how he doesn't swear in front of her until the hospital bit, and how he is always soft with her- and now she sees it and realizes that it's not such a bad thing to be like DV. and how fierce he is for her, just. i love the father/daughter relationship.
Zaida skids to a stop in front of his corner, on the far right, by the goal. She pumps a fist in the air and the cheering swells. Then she cocks her arm back over her shoulder, thumb pointing down, and turns her back to the stands so they can see her name. So everyone who saw that goal knows who she is.
VILLA
7
this was not only the only possible ending, it is the best ending. it says so much, so so much. his fucking goal celebration. his name, his number, but it's hers too, and it's her goal and her celebration. and how it- so the stands know who SHE IS, not where she comes from or who her father is, but who she is, just. how she's recognized that she can take everything he gave her and provided for her and worked so hard for her to have and still be her own player, her own great player.
this is a truly stunning piece of writing, and i applaud you.