Normally, I was the levelheaded one on the pitch.

Media praised me for being one of the only members to not really have an altercation.

Not today.

Today our opponents were playing rough. And when I say rough, I mean rough. I’d been fouled about. hundred times already.

Fortunately, there was only five minutes ‘til the final whistle.

I imagined their plan was to foul me whenever I get the ball just because dribbling was one of my forte’s.

No matter what it was, it was seriously starring to piss me off.

So when I went down for the millionth time, I immediately got back up, eyes set on their defender.

“You gonna keep tripping me up?” I scoffed, shoving him.

“It’s apart of football, stop getting so butthurt,” he retorted, shoving me back.

The final whistle was blown, but I couldn’t even hear it because I was so irritated. “It’s apart of football to purposely foul, huh?” I shoved him harder.

The guy’s so weak he fell to the ground.

Or maybe I’m just strong?

Doesn’t matter, because now all his teammates start surrounding me.

“Watch what you’re doing,” one said, shoving me hard. “Don’t get too big for your boots, kid.”

I laughed. “You’re right. I’m not about to argue with washed out players. Poor performance, by the way, we still beat you,” I snorted, begging to walk away.

I really was trying to de-escalate, I was.

“Washed out? As soon as a kid gets some cash, fame, and a random girl on his arm, he thinks he’s the best in the world,” another voice spoke.

“Yeah, just shut up and be grateful you got to play with adults, you clown.”

As I said, I tried.

I’m not really the type to get mad, but when I do I get mad.

‘Random girl on his arm’?

‘clown’?

“The fuck did you just say?” I barked, pacing my way back to them.

“All that cockiness make ya deaf? I said—”

I shoved him hard. All his teammates started charging at me, shoving me.

Of course, my teammates stepped in as well.

It got so bad the ref and a few others got involved, finally managing to break it up.

I stormed off to the tunnel, ready to change and get the hell out of here.

I showered a cold shower, trying to calm myself down.

When I got out, I changed into a tracksuit and left the changing rooms.

Walking back down the tunnel, I spotted a familiar figure waiting. She turned to me when I reached her.

“Now, what on earth was all that?” she asked, face still shocked despite the incident happening twenty minutes ago.

“Just smack talk, you know how it is,” I dismissed, not wanting to talk about it.

“Oh, there was smacking, alright.”

when I didn’t answer, still pissed, she grabbed my face with one hand, squishing it.

“What did they say, hm? You look so… so blah. I’ve never seen you look blah before.”

“What’s a blah?” I asked, generally confused. I’d never learnt that word before. I take her hand and kiss her palm. “Nothing is wrong. I’m just… I’m so fucking pissed, baby.”