you lived in london because of your dad’s job and it was by far one of your favorite places you’d lived. your family was fairly rich and you went to a wealthy private school. you’re 17 and you have a little brother who is 14. after living in the uk for a bit, you’d begun to sound like any other british person

your dad and brother were both big fans of football, especially a club called chelsea which was in london

today your father had brought you and your brother to a chelsea match. it was liverpool vs. chelsea and your seats were in one of the vip boxes

the match ends in a win for chelsea with a score of 3:1

as you were beginning to exit the box, you caught the eye of one of the younger chelsea players named arthur peurce. he was quite the star and was only a year older than you at 18 years old. he was quite handsome, had dark brown hair, and had light eyes. he waves to you with a bright smile and you look around for who he could have been waving at

you wave back and that was the end of your interaction, or so you thought

you make your way down the pitch and as you’re about to reach the exit of it, you pass by the player tunnel and suddenly get tapped on the shoulder

it was arthur

he flashes a smile before nervously raking his hand through his hair “hey, i saw you from the box and i thought you were really beautiful… uh- so i was wondering if i could get your number. would that be okay?”