blossom

“Tell me all the time not to worry

and think of all the time I'll have with you

when I won't wake up on my own,

wake up on my own,

held close all the time, knowin' I'm half of you

Think of us inside, after the wedding,

sufferin' the while to lie a time or two

when we won't wake up on our own,

wake up on our own,

held close all the time, knowin'

this was all for you

where it makes no difference who held back from who”

Think of us inside, gardenias on the tile,

Okay, now let me get soooo, so sappy right now. Okay. Repeat of the chorus, same thing: it’s Valentino reassuring Marc that he loves him, he’s not going anywhere, and they have the rest of their lives together. Now, I love me some wedding fluff, and while I have complicated feelings on marriage, christ alive, is it a guilty pleasure to think about weddings because they’re just such a beautiful concept.

Rosquez wedding has so much potential in particular. It could be big and loud and dramatic because let’s be real, these are two of the biggest peacocking show-ponies to ever exist, but also, they’ve been through so goddamn much both separately and together and because of each other and FOR each other.

I prefer to think it ends up being a mix between grand and soft; I don’t know how they would decide where to actually have it, maybe they have two semi-public events where their families attend both—one in Italy and one in Spain—and then they honeymoon somewhere completely differently. Gonna be so honest, I don’t know shit about wedding planning, so bear with me, but:

Because I’m American and therefore I was raised on the belief that Paris is the city of love (kidding, but not really; it always seemed so romanticized growing up), and because France is sort of between Spain and Italy, I like to think that they have the wedding in Paris or maybe some part of the French countryside. Somewhere neutral either because Vale insists so Marc doesn’t feel pressured to have it at the Ranch and his family doesn’t have to worry about him feeling pressured, or because Marc’s family themselves insists, to which Marc is like, “Okay, but Tavullia,” and everyone is like, “Marc, no. Okay? No. Pick somewhere else.”

Marc is like, “Okay, but it’s literally right there. And it’s MY wedding. And Valentino’s. We should have the final say. Vale?”

And Vale’s like, “Mm…a travel holiday sounds nice, dear.”

Marc then realizes that he’s not going to win this because Vale is going to placate everyone else before himself because he wants to keep the peace, if only for Marc’s sake, considering just about every Márquez family member still very much holds a grudge, barring Álex, who’s not willing to upset his brother despite his many complicated and conflicting opinions on Vale by picking on the Italian, so he’s chill about it. If Vale felt like he needed to stick up for himself, he would, but he doesn’t care where the wedding is, so long as they get married, so who cares if it’s in Spain? Vale’s family and guests can travel a few extra hours, it’s fine.

In summary, nobody wants to budge. There are no compromises on this.

So, Marc, ever the lover of loopholes and weaseling his way into getting what he wants, goes, “Sure. Alright. We won’t have the wedding in Italy,” to which everyone begins letting out sighs of relief until he goes, “We’ll have it in France! :)” and collectively, the response to this is:

“What the fuck, why? What’s wrong with you? But Spain, Marc? Marc, Spain, why not?”

Anyway, it—as previously pointed out—is Marc’s (Vale is there, too, I guess) wedding, so both families and friends pack their bags to head to France. I like to also think that Luca and Álex step in and refuse to let either of their brothers anywhere near the planning with a ten-foot radius.

They just needed to know where Rosquez want the wedding held, and everything else is now out of those absolute maniac nutjobs’ four hands. If they have suggestions, Luca and Álex will take them into consideration, but no promises unless it’s non-negotiable, of which there are zero requests, so the younger (superior) brothers are in charge.

Because Rosquez (moreso Vale; highlighter yellow is great and fun and all, but it’s not exactly wedding color palette material) had no hand (literally) in the planning, the wedding is beautiful, whether it’s dramatic or something more tender. The ceremony is wonderful and lovely and the reception is fun, and then the afterparty is a complete shitshow, of course, and this is where the best pictures and videos of the night come from.

Maybe some fun things get posted to social media (accidentally or on purpose) and this is how the 4693 cat gets let out of the yellow-blue / white-red bag. Chaos ensues, I’m sure. Vale is shameless about it, I’m sure. Marc is so extremely smug, I’m sure.

Whoever (Bez—it’s Bez) accidentally posts what is deemed by future internet archaeologists ‘THE Rosquez Video’ has to make a public apology for unintentionally outing them through Instagram Reels, in which he only says sorry to their respective PR teams for not warning them in advance.

The video in question is of a tipsy, stumbling, and violently swaying Vale carrying (struggling to, btw) a very drunk and limp Marc over his shoulder to the limousine while a chorus of voices (the Academy boys) obnoxiously and SO very poorly sings ‘That’s Amore’ by Dean Martin. The pair are clearly wearing wedding suits, though there is (very brief) debate about whether it’s just one of their weddings, or THEIR—as in together, in the romantic sense—wedding, or one they just both happened to attend.

Marc and Vale both repost the Insta Reel to their respective stories. Further in the video, as the singing ramps up, Marc begins swinging his arms with his index fingers pointed like he’s conducting a world-renowned symphony but he can’t even pick his head up because he’s THAT gone, and also he’s following his own rhythm (it is decidedly not the right pace for ‘That’s Amore’, nobody knows what it is, including a later-sober Marc) and everybody’s tone deaf and very off key.

Except for Luca, who is silent, and opening the backdoor of the limo for Vale to put Marc in the backseat, and Álex, who is making sure that Vale doesn’t drop his brother because Vale is certainly not sober either, though he’s not as plastered as his newly-wedded husband.

Luca and Álex were singing earlier, don’t get it twisted. This is just the tenth time the song is being sung and they’re both over it and have their own partners to go back to, and they’re also sort of worried that if things don’t wind down soon, someone’s going to be sent to the hospital for alcohol poisoning or some drunken, moronic accident. Or someone’s going to fuck in the venue’s bathroom, and that would be an entirely different issue to tackle, so everyone needs to just go.

I’d imagine that after the repost to their stories, Marc posts a photo of the view of whatever their honeymoon spot is with the date of their wedding anniversary as the caption with Vale tagged as the sunrise or some cheesy shit.

Vale posts a photo of them (probably from their marital bed) but all you can see is the ceiling and the fact that he’s holding his and Marc’s intertwined hands in the air to show off the fact that 1. they’re holding hands, and 2. they’re wearing rings—wedding bands, at that—which are glinting in the golden morning light. No caption. Or maybe just ‘@/marcmarquez93 💛💙 + 🤍❤️.’ I dunno, something like that. It’s sorta dorky, sorta cute. It’s perfect. I love cheesy romance, my God.

Anyway, this got away from me. Jeez LMAO

And then, lastly, the final lyric of the song, a fading out:

“To love me is to suffer me”

But this time, it’s not self-loathing. It’s just the reality of a love that hasn’t been scrubbed of the ugly bits and polished to be something more digestible. Love can be ugly, and it is mind-numbingly complicated—and more often than not, painful, too—but if you’re willing to put in the work and grit your teeth at certain points, it can also be a wonderful experience. Rosquez suffer each other because they love one another and their flaws and their mistakes and they cherish it all.

And then, to be all hee-hee-ha-ha about it, literally everybody fucking else around them has to suffer THEM because oh my fucking god what is WRONG with these absolute lunatics, but also, they’re kind of impossible to hate. Their loved ones adore them, but also, like. Jesus just put them in a hole somewhere and then throw a piece of wood over it so they never see the light of day again.

All in all: Rosquez deserve each other. (derogatory.) (but also: affectionate).

“We were in a race to grow up,

yesterday, through today, 'til tomorrow,

but when the plant blew up,

a piece of shrapnel flew and slowed that part of you

The doctors gave you until the end of the night

but not 'til daylight, not 'til daylight

Time passes slower in the flicker of the hospital light

I pray the race is worth the fight”

Marc & Álex, post-injury. Growing up together, sharing the same sort of eagerness to be on bikes, to ride, to race, i.e., ‘We were in a race to grow up, yesterday, through today, 'til tomorrow.’

They’re always fighting each other, always trying to catch up whenever the other is ahead. They’re rarely ever not trying to beat one another, beaming when it inevitably happens, no matter who technically loses. A win for one is a win for both of them, usually.

It just so happens that as they grow older, Marc goes through things that make him hungrier for it, insatiable, unstoppable. Reckless about it, almost, in a way. Namely, there’s crash after crash, injury after injury, it all keeps adding up, and after a certain point, Marc decides to—or rather, is more or less forced to, not only by his own body, but because he’s also being urged by Álex to—step back and assess what he’s doing, and if he can continue doing it. I.e., ‘...but when the plant blew up, a piece of shrapnel flew and slowed that part of you.’

And then he has to actually step back from racing, has to get surgery because he’s pushed himself to the absolute limit and there’s no other option, not if he wants to be back as soon as possible, i.e., ‘The doctors gave you until the end of the night,’ and then he has to get a second operation, a third, a fourth, he feels like he’s running out of time, too, to achieve what he wants to achieve because the bike is shit and it keeps almost killing him, and there just isn’t enough time, which is where the rest of the lyric comes into play: ‘but not 'til daylight, not 'til daylight.’

There are countless moments spent under the fluorescent lights of doctor’s offices and recovery rooms—‘Time passes slower in the flicker of the hospital light,’—with Álex always there whenever he can be because Marc is his older brother, and he’s already been through hell, and this is somehow worse than that. So Álex has to be there.

Marc has just always had an edge to him that Álex hasn’t; maybe it comes with being the oldest; it’s an innate urge to pave the way, to be the best, to prove something. Make something of himself so Álex could have a good role model to look up to.

Or maybe it’s because Marc hasn’t grown an inch since he was fourteen, and he’s had to sharpen a side of him that Álex didn’t, the side that needed weight added to his bike (I read that on his wikipedia page, dunno if it’s totally true, I just thought it was endearing and a little heartaching); he’s had to sharpen the side of him that’s always looking up at people, standing straight to be able to meet their gaze without having to tilt his head back to do so, the side that’s become the Thunder and Ant of Cervera.

At the end of the day, Marc /needs/ to race the same way he needs other necessary comforts to live a fulfilling life. It’s not necessarily a need to survive because in reality, you can survive with very little. But it would be agonizing to go without it. Life would be cold, or too hot, or in his case, too boring, or too suffocating. Too stagnant.

He’d lose his mind if this was how his riding career ended, or worse, his ability to ride at all—competitively or not—as a whole. So, Álex ‘prays the race is worth the fight,’ the fight being Marc’s ability to heal and push his body even further to the limit. Marc has no other choice but to commit to doing so and come out whole on the other side of because if this isn’t worth it, if Marc can’t pull this torturous and wondrous feat off, Álex isn’t sure he’s going to recognize his brother by the end of it. And that terrifies everybody around the two brothers.

“Made a fool of myself down on Tennessee Street

It wasn't pretty like the movies,

it was ugly, like what they all did to me,

and they did to me what I wouldn't do to anyone

You know that's for sure”

Something something, the press conference where Valentino accused Marc of helping Jorge Lorenzo and everyone was laughing at first and then Marc realized he was not, in fact, joking or being a jackass, and that he was being dead-serious. And then I’m pretty sure it was after that where Valentino said something along the lines of, “Is it true that he has posters of me in his room? I don’t know, I’d like to check for myself,” or something along those lines to a bunch of journalists, and Marc is standing right behind him? And he looks so anxious and unsure, so helpless, and it’s sickening, actually.

Maybe I’m mixing up clips and events, but that look on his face literally kills me regardless. And the way he’s holding his hands, and looking between the journalists and somewhere off-camera (if I’m remembering right, then it might be Vale, or possibly a manager maybe?) and I just…feel like dry-heaving over it.

I dunno, it’s just gut-wrenching. If I AM right, then it is ugly, that was an ugly thing to do, and I feel extremely unwell about it.

“Tell me all the time not to worry

and think of all the time I'll have with you

when I won't wake up on my own,

wake up on my own,

held close all the time, knowing I'm half of you”

This is post-reconciliation or right on the cusp of it. It’s Marc, unsure of whether or not he’s doing the right thing by letting Vale back into his life, and in turn, it’s Vale, gently wading his way in against the push and pull of Marc’s indecision.

It’s Valentino, promising that he’s not leaving again, he’s not going anywhere Marc doesn’t want him to go—whether it’s near or far away, keeping him close or asking for space, which Valentino gives him, every time—and he’s willing to wait.

I.e., ‘Tell me all the time not to worry,’ because he’s patient, he’s sure of what he wants this time, ‘and think of all the time I'll have with you when I won't wake up on my own,’ because he knows Marc is going to choose him, eventually. He’s just scared, he needs reassurance, needs proof of what Valentino’s swearing, and the only proof he’ll accept is Valentino waiting. And Valentino is more than happy to do so.

All the time in the world, he’ll be on standby, listening to what Marc wants from him because that’s what working for forgiveness entails. He has to listen this time, because he wouldn’t before, when Marc fervently swore up and down that he wasn’t helping anybody beat Valentino, he was just racing. He just wanted to win, even if it wasn’t the championship. He wanted to still be a contender, in some way, some form. He wanted to do his best, give it his all, because that’s the only way he knows how to race, really.

“Lay me down where the trees bend low

Put me down where the greenery stings

I can hear them singin':

‘To love me is to suffer me,’ and I believe it”

This could go for Marc or Valentino, honestly. They’re both complex, deeply-flawed human beings—as all people are; to be human is to be inherently fucked up but working on it always—and I think they both have the potential to believe this sentiment in their darker moments.

But for the sake of my own self-indulgence, I’m going to settle on Marc for this one. This set of lyrics, then, is just more of him believing that he wants too much too fast from too many things and / or people.

From racing, from his bike, from himself and his body with the crashes and his riding style and his general near-insatiable hunger for winning and riding in general; from Valentino, who Marc wanted understanding from, but he hadn’t explained himself in time or hadn’t done it well enough, and then he stopped bothering trying to do it at all, after a certain point; from his friends and family, who have to take care of him when it all falls apart.

To love Marc is to know that he can be reckless sometimes, that he prioritizes the wrong things occasionally—like his ambition over his safety—and therefore, to love him is to suffer through the worry, the pain, the helplessness of everything that comes with those traits. But he’s loved regardless because he’s so, so worth it.

“When I lay with you in that auld lang room,

wishin' I was the way you say that you are

You'll go fight a war, I'll go missing

I warned you: for me, it's not that hard”

Okay, so I had to look it up, and from what I can tell, ‘auld lang’ sort of means ‘for old time’s sake’ or something like it. Now, this is Valentino to me. Very Valentino. Maybe it’s mid-reconciliation, or earlier on, and Marc is having a hard recovery day. Aches, pains, just miserable, but he’s pushing through it because that’s what he does. He doesn’t know what it means to relax or take things easily.

Some part of Valentino possibly envies Marc for his ability to do this—to suffer in silence, to keep his pain hidden—whereas Vale is vocal about it in his own way. In a twisted, well-disguised, projecting-the-most-random-of-things sort of way, granted, but still. I.e., ‘...wishin' I was the way you say that you are.’

He’s very open and public about the fact that he believes Marc betrayed him through scheming and plotting against him, but you can only betray someone whose trust you had. Marc had Valentino’s trust, had the man’s heart in his hands, and to Vale, Marc crushed it without second thought the moment he saw he could benefit from doing so.

Vale is working or (depending on the plot) has already worked past that, and he understands now. He was wrong, they were both wrong, it was always going to happen, it could’ve been avoided, it’s however you wanna go about the forgiveness—whether they’re both at fault or whatever—but the point is still this: Marc handles pain better. If only barely, and if mostly physically. Where he internalizes it, Valentino vocalizes it, even if Vale isn’t honest about what it really is.

Now, the second half, with the war and the missing and the ‘not that hard’, this is still Valentino. Marc will fight a war (his injury and recovery), Vale will go missing (retirement), and, ‘I warned you: for me, it’s not that hard,’ is a callback to the whole melodramatic divorce.

When Valentino felt like Marc had betrayed him, he left. He walked away from Marc without so much as a second glance, except for on the track in Sepang, but that wasn’t reconsideration. That was a declaration of war, the original war. Valentino has always found it easier to leave, rather than stay and continue to let himself get more and more hurt if he feels like something is harming him. One could even spin it that this is something Marc is envious of: Valentino knows when to leave; Marc stays until whatever it is that he’s so loyal to just destroys him. Honda, Valentino, racing in general.

Anyway, obviously, Valentino is done doing that now—the whole tucking tail and fleeing thing—or he’s trying to be, but still. It happened. And it’s something they’re going to have to work on. He’s going to have to learn how to handle pain the way Marc does: by letting it hit him, instead of trying to duck and dodge and turn it around on wherever it’s coming from because if he does that now, it’s just going to end up going back to Marc again, and Vale’s done enough of that already.

“That picture on the wall you're scared of looks just like you

I wanna bleed, I wanna hurt the way that boys do

Maybe you're right and we should stop watchin' the news

‘cuz, baby, I've never seen brown eyes look so blue”

‘Picture on the wall’ is past-Valentino, who present-Valentino now resents because he could’ve handled everything so much better. If he had just…talked to Marc with the intention of actually listening, rather than just waiting to catch him in a lie or have his turn at accusing Marc further, or insulting him, berating him, then maybe they never would’ve had to’ve gone through all of this heartache and agony and general mess.

Present-Valentino hates past-Valentino because for all he’s changed and matured, he doesn’t really look that much different, and he sees that in the way Marc looks at him. It’s both a blessing and curse; it’s bad at first because Marc looks at him and sees the man who called him dangerous, said he was ruining the one thing in the world they both love more than almost anything else. But Marc also sees the man he loved, still loves, and the man who loves him back, and all that mushy stuff. You get the vibe, I feel.

‘Bleed and hurt the way boys do,’ could go two ways: the stereotypical gender roles way where they’re in a male-dominated sport and space, they need to perform and meet the expectations that comes with that because, y’know. Society. Insert thin-lipped frown emoji here.

But the second interpretation could tie back to the very first line of the song, ‘We were in a race to grow up, yesterday, through today, 'til tomorrow.’

When you’re younger, everything hurts less. It’s easier, usually, to heal from things. You bounce back quicker, get to your feet faster, climb onto the bike with the same lack of fear despite the fact that you just washed out and completely ate shit, and you’ll have bruises and scrapes tomorrow, but why does that have to stop you from having fun now, today?

The older you get, the more weary you grow. It’s just that simple. When you’re a young boy, you bleed less, you hurt less. It feels less fatal then.

Marc, for a while, feels like almost everything that happens to him is fatal these days.

‘Maybe you're right and we should stop watchin' the news,’ is just the pressure and emotion that comes from seeing headlines, articles, the criticism, the scrutiny for both of them, general skepticism, and the constant discrediting of Marc's skill. Marc and Vale are always telling each other not to pay any attention to what anyone else except their loved ones has to say about them, but sometimes, it gets to Marc. Mostly, it's people calling into question his ability to return from his injury.

The ‘news’ could also be Marc's medical reports, seeing how bad the damage is, how much he's had to go through to fix it, and it wears him down at some point, i.e., ‘baby, I've never seen brown eyes look so blue.’

“It's somethin’ tragic,

can't tell the tale without a frown

We got dramatic

I caused a scene, you shut it down

It's so pathetic, sympathetic in the way I shut my mouth

Couldn’t say it, but you knew I wanted out”

Okay, current Vale in a nutshell. 2015 in a nutshell. Oh, God, I think this might be THE Rosquez song, actually. Holy shit. Okay, okay, okay—current Vale reflecting on everything that went down in 2015.

He’s bitter, he can’t help but feel deeply unhappy and discontent whenever he thinks back on it all. He both loathes and dreads how helpless it makes him feel because no matter what he does, how he feels, what he says, he can never go back and redo anything. He’ll never get another shot at another title, he’ll never be able to take back any statements he’s made, even if he says he doesn't feel like that anymore, the damage is done, and more and worse than anything, he can never stop himself from getting tangled up with Marc Márquez.

Valentino, for the longest time, can even just hear Marc’s name in passing and it's enough for him to get this sour look on his face, it's obvious even when he tries to hide it, and he gets so caught up because he hates how it happened, that it happened at all, hates Marc for his involvement, for being there, for being someone Vale couldn’t let go of, can’t let go of, present tense, because otherwise, why would he still be thinking about it? If he ever truly let go of Marc, he’d be over it by now. But he’s very much so not.

’I caused a scene, you shut it down,’ refers to the press conference and (what was basically) the smear campaign as a whole. Vale tried to discredit Marc, though it never really worked—at least when it came to his talent and skill as a rider, maybe not so much as a person; a lot of people hated Marc to the point of almost dehumanizing him from what I've seen, demonizing him—but it never worked as well as Vale wanted it to, as well as he believed it to be, because Marc went on to win again and again, AKA he ‘shut it down.’ And then he refused to let himself get bullied out of the sport, refused to let the criticism and vitriol make him doubt himself. If anything, it fueled him, for better or for worse.

’It's so pathetic, sympathetic in the way I shut my mouth,’ could be Vale finally deciding to stop bringing up the great betrayal any chance he gets; he realizes it’s beginning to look pitiful for him, constantly lamenting about how he was fucked over and plotted against and on and on and on. It’s him finally seeing the damage he’s done, the extent of it, and feeling so guilty he can’t THINK about letting himself complain about how he was treated because fuck, people genuinely despise Marc because Vale used to. Does. He still hasn’t figured out whether or not he’s over it just yet, but he’s not going to talk about it anymore. That much he’s decided on with 100% certainty.

‘Couldn’t say it, but you knew I wanted out,’ is, to me, a plotline where in 2015, they were getting serious, and Vale got scared. What was once harmless hook-ups and casual hangouts had slowly turned into spending the night in each other’s beds, seeking each other out to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, sharing soft smiles and holding warm hands, inside jokes, swapping clothes, giving more and more of themselves to each other without ever sitting down and actually talking about what they were doing in a meaningful way because what the hell is communication, right?

Maybe Vale realized one random day that he hadn’t slept with anyone else in months, not since he and Marc started going steady, at some point, even though they hadn’t talked about it, and when the hell did he let himself get that caught up in the other man? He spiraled after that realization, rationalized in his mind the idea of Marc having somehow tricked him, and if he was capable of this level of deceit, what if he was capable of more? Clearly, that was the gravity of the situation. Marc could not be trusted, but Vale needed to stay close to him to keep an eye on him, so they kept doing what they'd been doing. Or it's Vale just lying to himself that THAT was the reason he eventually blew everything up between them, and not the truth, which is that he realized he was in love with Marc and tucked tail to go lick his wounded pride and the perceived loss of his sense of freedom in a self-imposed isolation for himself, and a forced ostracization of Marc, putting as much distance between the two do them as possible.

And while Vale never said it outright, Marc knew the real reason. He knew Valentino was just being a coward, and he went about protecting himself in the most cowardly way one can do so: by betraying and maiming Marc before Marc had the opportunity to do it to him, even though Marc never would have, and Valentino would’ve known that if he had just asked Marc, or talked to him at all about their almost-relationship.

“It's been a while since we left

I finally forgot what it's like to regret

'cause deep down, I know I'll never write another love song

'cause I'd have to think 'bout you,

and deep down, I thought you’d never have the guts to come back,

but you do”

Okay, I usually write about Valentino being the one to reach out to kick off the reconciliation, but I think there’s an obvious emotional advantage to that, no matter how unrealistically I try to write it and warp it so Valentino is a grovelling, borderline pathetic fool who’s so lovesick he doesn’t care about his dignity. It makes it easier on me emotionally LMAO.

But, if Marc were the one to reach out, he’d have all the power, right? Realistically, Vale would probably rather drop dead than bite the bullet and swallow his pride and take the first step. Marc opening the door they slammed shut on each other a long time ago would undoubtedly spook Vale, bring back a whole bunch of emotions he refused to feel or acknowledge the existence of.

He’d probably lash out, at first. Out of fear that Marc is tricking him somehow, or he’s going to use this to get revenge, gain Vale’s trust and then hurt him the way he did Marc. Vale lashes out, does it out of pain because he’s missed Marc, he aches over the amount of time they’ve wasted, moments they've lost to the years. He lashes out, does it out of shame over what he did because at the end of the day, he knows he was wrong.

Marc reaching out reminds Vale of the fact that he was, at one point in time, in love with Marc, even if he never let himself say it out loud or admit it in his own mind because that was an act he couldn’t take back, a line he couldn’t uncross, but he had already done it, hadn’t he? By falling in love with Marc to begin with, he was already done for; the line no longer even existed. But rather than recognizing that, he had been too afraid of getting hurt by someone else, so he just did it to himself, and he took Marc down with him in the process.

And yet, somehow, here Marc is—bold, brave Marc—extending an olive branch of forgiveness to Valentino like he’s not worried about getting burned and shut down again the way he has so many different times in so many different ways over the years.

Marc being the one to reach out is just as scary for Vale as it would be for Marc if the roles were reversed. There’s too much history between them for either of them to dive headfirst back into each other without at least a face-numbing amount of fear, even if it’s only at the start. But they do it anyway, one of them, and the other is always helpless to follow along; they're a fated tragedy, always destined to recover from each other with each other. They're the only ones who can set each other free, in a way.

“You’re reaching out, I'm holding on to all the love we left behind

You try to call, I’m still recovering from thе tears in your eyes

Whеn, ‘Goodbye,’ felt like forever 'stead of, ‘See you again’

Back when you thought that we could never be friends”

Reconciliation, a continuation of my previous point. Marc keeps calling, trying to get Valentino to just talk about what happened between them, what they used to have—he’s not even asking for an apology. He just wants to speak.

”Do you remember when we went skinny dipping together, after Jerez, in 2014?” It's a fond, bittersweet memory, full of warmth and laughter and big smiles, adrenaline, giddy butterflies, and Valentino can't handle feeling that all over again, so he asks to talk about something else, anything else, and they do.

Small talk, meaningless, safe, but Marc always drifts back to reminiscing, like he can’t help but get caught up in his own memories, in the moments they shared together that Valentino’s done everything in his power to force out of his mind.

“Do you remember when we celebrated my second championship, after Motegi? Do you remember what you told me? Do you remember that you said I was amazing, and you had never met anybody else like me? Do you remember? Did you mean it?”

And of course Valentino remembers, and of course he meant it, and he bites out the confirmation through gritted teeth, jaw clenched and knuckles white because he dreads picking up the phone every time it rings, Marc’s name flashing across the top of the screen, because Valentino just keeps thinking about everything he did to Marc, and he doesn’t understand why Marc is trying to keep them in contact with each other. But he keeps answering despite this. He's not sure why.

It feels like a punishment. It feels like absolution. Valentino doesn’t know what else to do, so he keeps picking up the phone, and he keeps answering Marc’s questions, and he keeps asking to speak about anything else except what they used to have and can never experience again. Even if Marc seems to want to try again, though he hasn’t said it so brazenly. Valentino can't put them through that again, he won't. (Spoiler: he does. This time, it ends happier, though, because I'm a sucker for a happy ending.)

“Cut to static,

it's hard to think with all the noise

My head is spinnin', tryna’ fathom all the trauma you endured at my hands

How’d I get to where you're fine and I'm the one that's a mess?

God, I guess

that's the difference between forgive and forget”

This is just Valentino struggling horrifically throughout the process of reopening old wounds and healing them, of hearing Marc’s voice say his name to him again, instead of in an interview or press conference or his documentary, calling it out to grab his attention, speaking to Valentino like they’re old friends and always have been instead of strangers who used to be rivals, enemies, like there was never any hatred or resentment. Like ten years didn’t pass without them speaking to each other in an honest way that wasn’t riddled with spite, every conversation stilted and buckling under the weight of 2015 and everything that happened between then and now.

It’s Valentino, having to accept that he put Marc through hell. ’My head is spinnin', tryna’ fathom all the trauma you endured at my hands,’ is sooo Valentino having to come to terms with how vitriolic he was and it’s a painful process. Marc seems to be handling it better—he’s had more time to get through it—but Valentino feels sick with guilt, dizzy with shame.

He probably tries to run off again a few dozen times, feeling like it’s impossible to get past this, and Marc always just leisurely trails after him, eyes rolling as he pokes fun at how dramatic Valentino is. It’s an odd back and forth they have, a strange pattern they fall into, a weird routine to follow, but they do it until they figure themselves and each other out again. Marc finds it entertaining, and Valentino feels relieved that Marc lets him run away for a while, but never lets him leave entirely. Vale needs that space, but he also needs the assurance that it won't tear and open up another unfixable rift between them again.

Valentino, in short, is a complete shitshow of a man, and Marc finds both amusement and comfort in it. He forgave Valentino, but it’s still a little vindicating to see that Vale never forgot about him, never could quite get rid of the feelings they both know he had (and still very much actively has) for Marc.

The pre-chorus and chorus repeat another time before the end of the song so I won’t add them here, but yes. These lyrics, oh my God. Yes, yes, yes, I adore you, @rise-ha for recommending this song to me because it is SO Rosquez coded it’s insane!!!

“Danny ran into some complications

He falls asleep during conversations

He's gotta search the street when he's on vacation

The worst thing is that I'm in the same situation”

Now, I don’t know much about Uccio. I wanna clarify that. I’d argue that I know next to nothing, actually, but…he seems like I could use him as a good scapegoat, so. Apologies, Uccio. Lol anyway, I’m imagining that this is Uccio and Vale on the look-out for Marc, for his plots and schemes and the whole conspiracy.

‘He’s gotta search the street when he’s on vacation,’ as in, even when Uccio isn’t technically on whatever-it-is-he-does duty, he’s STILL looking out for any signs of Marc doing something to fuck Vale over, to ruin what they’ve built.

And the worst thing is that Vale’s ‘in the same situation,’ where he’s also keeping an eye out for Marc trying to fuck him over, but also, even when he’s not in the same place as Marc physically, Marc is still on his mind.

He still looks for Marc in the street post-divorce, just on the off-chance that he might catch a glimpse of dark hair and darker eyes that might have an ounce of remorse (and forgiveness) in them, even if it’s only for a moment on the sidewalk in the middle of some random town Marc has no business being in to begin with.

“And all I do is sit and think about you

If I knew what you'd do

Collapse my veins, wearing beautiful shoes

It's not living if it's not with you”

Valentino obsessing over Marc. ‘Nough said. 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

But not really because I love to talk, so here’s my more in-depth thoughts:

Valentino quite literally obsesses. He ruminates, he considers, he reconsiders, he does it again, he only affirms his own ideas more and more the longer he thinks about them. He convinces himself of a reality that doesn’t actually exist because he and Uccio (but mostly himself, after a certain point) are in a constant feedback loop of affirmation.

He IS his own echo-chamber of, “Marc is evil, Marc is disloyal, Marc betrayed me, he cannot be trusted, I cannot let him get close to me again, I also cannot let him go because of this. If I let him go, I will not be able to keep an eye on him. He cannot be left alone to his own devices. Because he is EVIL! I HAVE to think about him all the time, actually.”

This is him reflecting on how he ‘fell for Marc’s scheme’, i.e., ‘All I do is sit and think about you,’ —> the time before everything was shit, ‘if I knew what you'd do: collapse my veins, wearing beautiful shoes,’ —> he’s constantly thinking about how things would’ve been different if he had seen who Marc ‘truly was’ from the start. If he saw how Marc would try, and on some level, succeed in destroying (collapsing) him.

He never would’ve fucked Vale over (‘collapse my veins’); he never would’ve looked so pretty and harmless doing it (‘wearing beautiful shoes’). And yet, despite this, or maybe because of it, Valentino cannot let Marc go. ‘It’s not living if it’s not with you,’ obviously, because Marc is somebody who is impossible to live without once you’ve felt what it’s like to have him.

Yes, yes, yes—Do we see the vision? We see the vision, right? Nodding, nodding, I am hoping to see a lot of nodding, please everybody be as insane as me. 🙂‍↕️

“And Danny says we're living in a simulation / but he works in a petrol station (selling petrol)

He says it all began with his operation, / and I know you think you're sly, but you need some imagination”

Something, something, Uccio selling petrol as a metaphor for him pedaling lies and conspiracies to Valentino, and Valentino believing them. It all began with ‘his operation’, which is the Marc Márquez smear campaign. ‘I know you think you’re sly,’ —> Vale telling Marc that he won’t get away with what he did (helping Jorge Lorenzo), ‘but you need some imagination’ —> Uccio to Vale, who hadn’t wanted to believe it at first but Uccio is convincing and Vale is paranoid anyway, Vale to the public, etc. etc.

But also, ‘you need some imagination’ could be Marc telling Valentino he’s batshit insane. As in, ‘you need some imagination’ to come up with and especially BELIEVE something that far-fetched. Unfortunately, though, Valentino has plenty of imagination, much to Marc’s horrible luck.

“I can't stop sweating or control my feet

Got a twenty-stone monkey that I just can't beat

I can stage a situation, but I just can't eat / and there's a feeling, you're replacing embrace”

This is Valentino being completely unable to stop thinking about Marc, and then eventually being the one to reach out; ‘can’t stop sweating’ ‘cuz he’s nerrrrrrvy about being rejected, ‘or control my feet’ as in he can’t control or stop himself from going back to Marc despite being the one to cut things off. The ‘twenty-stone monkey’ is his urge to have Marc back in his life, he can’t beat it, can’t help it. ‘Stage a situation’ —> the Great Spanish Conspiracy, and then everything fell apart and he started feeling guilty at some point, ‘but I just can't eat,’ and so then the line, ‘and there's a feeling, you're replacing embrace,’ is him being worried that Marc is TRULY and successfully going to move on from him one day despite Valentino being nowhere near over the other man.

“It's true that all I do is sit and think about you

If I knew what you'd do

Collapse my veins, wearing beautiful shoes

It's not living if it's not with you

All I do is sit and drink without you

If I choose, then I lose

Distract my brain from the terrible news

It's not living if it's not with you”

Same as before for the lyrics that have already shown up, basically. ‘All I do is sit and drink without you,’ is Vale sitting around, drinking with the Academy boys, thinking about Marc when he hears them mention him or complain about him, joining in to complain because he really isn’t over any of it or Marc himself.

Or drinking with Uccio and the two of them are stuck in a negative feedback loop about how awful Marc is and how he’s the literal Antichrist, and it’s such bullshit that he keeps winning, and he’s so evil, so nefarious, there’s such a dark and sinister energy surrounding him, maybe he needs an exorcism, and, and, and—

(I.e., two dumb bitches sitting around, reiterating the same point over and over again between themselves, beating the same dead horse, and saying, “No, you’re soooo right, you’re SO right! Exactly! And—” to each other. Which is very relatable, unfortunately.)

‘If I choose, then I lose,’ being Vale back in 2015 having to choose between potentially letting Marc get into his head as he’s fighting for his tenth championship (more than he already has, maybe), or cutting Marc off. He loses either way, it just comes down to what: his shot at double-digit titles, or the possible love of his life.

Clearly, we know which one he chose. And, also clearly, he’s beginning to regret it.

But it could also be him choosing to give up his crusade of slandering Marc, of keeping him away, of pretending he doesn’t still have so much love for the man. If he chooses Marc, he has to let go of that hurt and anger. He has to lose the war HE started, has to admit defeat. But if he chooses to keep going, he loses Marc. Which loss would cost him more emotionally, which one would he genuinely never be able to come back from?

The answer is obvious. Valentino knows it. He just has to get his ass in gear and start fixing what he broke.

‘Distract my brain from the terrible news,’ —> post-reconciliation where Valentino realizes he’s completely pissed away years and years of greatness he could’ve had with Marc and is now using Marc TO distract himself from this fact. Through dates, sex, denial, whatever you decide. I prefer the first two, but to each their own! Angst is always delicious, I just love a good sweet chaser. I’m choosing to interpret it as them making up for lost time via romantic endeavors.

“Oh, and Johnny got a job in a bank, I think, / and he spent the time trying to pack in the drinks for me

I feel sick and I know that I'll lose, but / it's not living if it's not with you

(It's not, it's not)”

‘Johnny’ is Uccio, who gets a life aside from being Vale’s Whatever-The-Fuck-He-Is instead of trying to ruin Marc’s reputation and career, and maybe he even backs off from whispering in Vale’s ear about how the Devil DOES have big brown round doe eyes and he DOES have a Spanish accent and he is—YES, exactly—5’7”, you guessed it, and he does look EXACTLY like Marc Márquez because the Devil IS Marc Márquez.

The Devil wears Marc Márquez, pass it on, and then Vale did back in the day, and now he’s trying to undo it all. He can’t do that if Uccio can’t let it go, too. So Uccio does, because Vale convinces him to, and everybody moves on, yaayyy! #happyending #lovewins #getfuckedmarcsucceedsagain #statusupdate #taken #spoiled #ilovemygrovelingboyfriend

Anyway, to sum it up: ‘and he spent the time trying to pack in the drinks for me,’ = the smear campaign, ‘I feel sick and I know that I'll lose,’ is Vale realizing that he’s lost either way because he didn’t get his tenth, and he still lost Marc anyway, and it’s going to be a fucking nightmare to get him back and fix this, ‘but it's not living if it's not with you.’

It’s not, it’s not. 🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️

This was Blossom’s Lyrics Drabble Analysis, thank you for tuning in, I will…be back eventually. Not saying when. Because not even I know LMAO.

Anyway, share your thoughts if you have them!! And I am so so open to song suggestions if you have them, I’m always looking to expand my music library—go absolutely crazy if you have any recommendations!

“You're so smooth

If you want, you can bite me / and I won't move”

Just the general feeling of pre-feud Rosquez. The calm before the storm, the lighthearted, giddy smiles and laughter before the glares and scoffs, the loyalty before the (perceived) backstabbing. The lively peace before the never-ending war.

I think this set of lyrics could go both ways for them; 2013 & 2014 Marc, dead-set on impressing Vale, on vying for his attention and keeping it. He’s captivated by the sudden proximity he has to someone he admires so dearly.

It’s Valentino, entranced by the sheer dedication Marc has to racing and winning. How hungry he is for it, alongside his conviction when it comes to just about anything. Marc loves how he rides; all in, unwavering, and wholly overwhelming.

These lyrics are the beginning of the end, when they both know something is wrong—with themselves, each other, the thing between them—and that it’s only going to get worse if they can’t fix it, but neither one of them wants to be the reason the bear trap they’ve found themselves stepping into goes off.

But it’s going to clamp down on their legs one way or another. It was designed to, and they (as separate entities, their personalities, their ways of functioning) are designed the same way; they clash, they refuse to fold any sharp edges away to fit together. When the trap does snap shut, they’re only going to hack at each other further and misplace the blame to try and get out of it, put the fault anywhere except on themselves as individuals.

For Vale, it was Marc’s fault; or Marc, it was Valentino; for anyone else, it was both of them, neither of them, or maybe it was Uccio or someone else from Vale’s inner circle, or it was the race directors, and it was so-and-so, too, it was the teams, the bikes, the time of year it happened, the track, it was—

It doesn’t matter; they’re each still missing a limb from trying to get out of the trap, now void of a part of themselves, and there’s nothing else to do about it except patch up the wound and carry on with their lives in a way that’s starkly different from what either of them imagined or wanted it to be or turn into.

“You won't lose / me to thunder or lightning, / but you could to crowded rooms”

Thunder or lightning, the rush of racing, the speed, the energy that comes with it. The worship from fans. Marc thought if anything were ever going to tear them apart, it would’ve somebody finding out they were a not-quite-item-but-still-something, not this.

It was never supposed to be Valentino crafting up stories in his mind about how Marc is conniving, plotting against him, selfishly trying to keep Valentino from winning the championship just because he can’t anymore.

It was never supposed to have anything to do with racing, that’s supposed to be what ties them together, what they have in common. Why they understand each other so well, what’s so magnetic about them. Nobody else gets it, the hunger, not even the others on the grid; Valentino and Marc have the same sort of fervor.

But then again, maybe that’s why this is happening.

So, they lose each other to crowded rooms. Valentino loses Marc to a conference room full of chuckling journalists who grow grim and curious when they realize he’s not joking about Jorge Lorenzo having a new fan in Marc Márquez; he loses Marc to microphones echoing his sentiments about everything wrong with the number 93.

Marc loses Valentino to a crowded room of race directors, already beginning to ache from skidding on the track, thigh burning; he loses Valentino to the thousands and thousands of fans who urge the Italian on, agreeing that yes, yes, Marc Márquez is in the wrong here, he’s so wrong that he can never be right again.

They can never be right again.

“I like that sound you make / when you're clawing at the edge / and without escape

Do you like that, baby?

I could make you cum twenty times a day

Close the door, let me in”

I think the first few lines are self-explanatory and I’m not brave enough to go into detail about it LMAO. But shortly put: sex was never the problem between them.

Not before, not during, not after, when they finally start back up again whether it’s before or post-reconciliation. For the sake of my own personal preference, I’m going to say it’s right before; hooking up again is the thing that kicks it off.

‘Close the door, let me in,’ could come from both Valentino or Marc.

If it’s the former, it’s Valentino asking for a second chance. Maybe not at a relationship, because they can probably never go there again—maybe not even at forgiveness—but just something. They had some good times, yes? Fun times?

They both always walked away satisfied, and they could have that again, if Marc’s willing to let him prove it. To let go a little of the past, even if it’s just for the time they spend tangled up in each other.

All Marc needs to do is let Valentino in and shut the door behind themselves on everybody else who would tell them immediately and sincerely that it’s a very, very terrible idea. Nobody else needs to be in the know about it except for them.

If it’s the latter, ‘Close the door,’ could refer to the past; Marc doesn’t want to think about how things have been. About the hurt, and the anger, and the resentment that’s settled so thickly between them it’s like choking on smog, it hangs in the air so heavy.

He just wants this—he wants the escape, he wants the euphoria, the pleasure, the brief moment of familiarity that feels like stepping back into the past, but he doesn’t have to stay there—and then he wants to shut the door on everything threatening to bubble up and out into the open for Valentino to dissect and use against him.

‘Let me in,’ refers to how Marc wants the intimacy with none of the vulnerability. He wants to get as close as he can to what they used to have with none of the possibility of being hurt again because if that happens, he’s not sure he can get back up a second, third, at this point hundredth time from Valentino shoving him away and down.

He wants what they used to have, but they can never go back to that—it’s too tainted, too tarnished. It rotted all the way through somewhere between Marc’s heart dropping to his stomach when he realized Vale truly believed Marc would betray him, and then dropping to the floor when he hit the track after that, watching yellow and blue zip off in the distance as he spun out, helpless.

He can’t go back to before that happened. But he can pretend, for a little while, at least, and act like Vale’s touch doesn’t carry hints of resentment. And worse: sometimes, remorse.

“If you love me, keep it to yourself

If you love me, keep it to yourself

If you love me, keep it to yourself

If you love me, keep it to yourself

If you love me, then keep it to yourself

If you love me, then keep it to yourself

Keep it to yourself

If you love me, then keep it to yourself”

Now this, this…Yes. Just yes. I like this; the repetition, the insistence, the different ways it could be spun. It’s Marc, insisting that Valentino shouldn’t (and more importantly: can’t) let his feelings cloud his judgment again the way they did back then.

That’s what got them into this entire mess to begin with. If they keep their hearts out of it this go around, then maybe they won’t come out of the other side of this new arrangement clutching the shredded pieces of themselves in bloodied palms and stained fingertips. Again.

It’s Marc, insistenting that if Valentino really does love him, then he won’t burden Marc with the knowledge of it because they cannot come back from what happened, and he /cannot/ hear Valentino say those words. If he loves Marc, he’ll sit with it by himself. He’ll suffer through it for the both of them.

It’s Marc, insisting that if Valentino loves him—and that's a very big ‘if’ because love is a very, terrifyingly big word—then he won’t expect Marc to say it back. Not now, maybe not ever. He won’t ask Marc to even try because Marc does things he doesn’t like when he’s in love, like turning the other cheek for much longer than he should, and clinging onto hope far past the point of reason. He falls hard when he’s in love, and the last time he was, he hit the ground even harder afterwards.

Valentino shouldn’t ask him to go through all of that again, just in case he (Vale) is wrong about this. About being in love. Maybe he never had been, with Marc, before—maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to do what he did.

It’s Marc, insistenting that if Valentino loves him, he won’t tell anybody else because it’ll somehow be spun back around on Marc, and Marc will somehow be at fault for something. It’s Marc, knowing that he can’t handle hearing the masses accuse him of tricking Vale somehow again, of trying to mess with either Valentino or one of his drivers’ / Academy boys’ minds.

It’s Marc, begging, so sincerely, that they keep their relationship to just themselves for now. Because it turned into that, somehow, even if they haven’t said it out loud; it’s too initiate, too often now, too soft to be anything else, and they’ve both stopped sleeping with other people.

It’s Marc, begging that Vale keep their relationship to himself, just so Marc can savor it a little longer before it inevitably changes, shifting under the weight of everybody else’s scrutiny. Before Valentino snaps out of it and remembers himself, remembers who Marc is, and he rips this away from Marc all over again with that usual, familiar look of detestation on his face rather than the now-common fond, gooey smile that’s almost always present instead, the very same one he used to give Marc at the beginning. Before.

It’s Marc, begging that they don’t repeat this cycle all over again because if they do, he won’t be able to come back from it. Not a second time. Not after everything else.

It’s Marc, just desperate not to get hurt again. Sickening.