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''First of all, you can't tell anyone about the things that I'm going to write in this letter.
This is our secret, you're the only one who knows and we have to keep like this. If you tell anyone about this, well... You'll know when we get there.
You probably know me, and know what I'm going to tell, if you didn't, you would not be here, you are a curious person, and you want to know everything, and if I wasn't me, I would like to know everything as well.
Fortunately, I'm Luka Modric.
Real Madrid is not just a team, the players are not just players, they're not just teammates. We are not just teammates.
When you're inside of the Bernabeu, or inside of Valdebebas, you're no longer the same person you were before you got in.
It's like you're in another dimension, another world, time and space.
Your life, wife and children are not yours anymore.
They forget everything outside. It's just them. We share the same cold meal.
While I was writing this, I thought that maybe I should not say their names, because I was afraid that maybe you would tell the secret, but then I thought "what's the point?"
You should know them by their names, you should know everything and more, you should know that the fanfics you write about them fucking with each other are not fanfics; it's all real.
Everything here is real,
(okay, maybe not everything but I'm not gonna tell you this part because you're too good to have me breaking your hearts and destroying your dreams like that)
They really fuck with each other.
I analyze. I see everything.
I see how much Iker and Sergio love each other, so much that hurts like a helmet hitting their heads; I see how much they are different and still very similar with each other.
They're like Wendy and Peter Pan, the moon and the sun, earth and fire, pop music and rock and roll, Harry Potter and The Hunger Games; though, they can make it work.
Honestly, I don't know how, but I feel happy every time I see the two men kissing on the cheeks in the tunnel, or fucking in the showers. You look at them and you feel, you know by heart that their love will never get old. It's a known fact; They will love each other forever, they will be thorns in each other' sides till death.
Now, I feel like I have to tell you about the lost boys.
Yes, the lost boys, you know who I'm talking about.
There's the blonde one, intelligent, smart, bright and funny (you probably don't think that, and I'm not surprise, but in fact, he is very funny) anyway;
There's the one with the beard, people call him magic and I agree, he is very smart too and everything else you think he is, he really is;
And of course, I don't know about you, but this one, he is my favorite, the kind and sweet one, the one that hugs everyone, he hugs even me, I mean...
They're the lost boys, but they're not lost at all, they had been just finding themselves, even when they got themselves lost in translation.
I love to watch them, this is definitely my favorite part of the day, I guess I'm more like you than you thought.
They have a synchrony, a bond that no one understands, they are three of a kind.
I tried for a long time understand them, understand how Isco and Toni can kiss each other with so much passion and James doesn't even got jealous, not even a little, and the other way around.
They are a team apart.
They are a one true pairing with three in.
Well, I told you that James is my favorite, and I'm gonna tell you why:
He's not exclusive. He loves everyone, he hugs, kisses and loves everyone.
He kisses Isco and Toni, he hugs Marcelo, Fabio, Pepe, Benzema, Chicharito, me... All of them.
James probably loves you too, even if he doesn't know you.
Sometimes I think he's too good for this world, too pure, too sensitive too live. I think you agree with me, and I'm glad you do.
But as everyone else, James has one thing on him that he wished he hasn't. He loves everyone, kisses and hugs everyone, but there's a person, only one man, that he fucks.
Yes, you know who I'm talking about, he, the best of the world, (which I agree.)
You probably think that they fell in love in the first sign, that they looked to each other and thought "he's the love of my life" but you're wrong in this one.
They didn't hate each other, no, hate is such a dramatic word to this; they just didn't like each other, they didn't match, didn't work out together.
James and Cristiano were not even friends, until they were.
They began with friendship and ended with a love that you know, you just look and you know that this love is real and they both give their hearts to each other every day and every night.
It's beautiful.
I wish you could see everything I see, but I think that if you did see what I see, then it would not be fun at all or special at all.
Anyway, If you have read all of this, I hope you don't think I'm being too dramatic, cause I'm not, I was just telling you the truth you already knew.
This is our secret now, and I hope for the love of San Iker that you will keep this secret with you.
Hala Madrid!
Oh, and if you're asking "and what about you, Luka? Who is your love? Which is your bond?"
Well, this is for another letter, I suppose.''