The stadium buzzed with the roar of the crowd as the final whistle blew. AFC Richmond had taken the win, and the players were slowly making their way off the pitch, sweaty and triumphant.

You were standing near the tunnel, clapping along with the fans, your Richmond scarf hanging loosely around your neck, you were stood with the VIP tickets. One player in particular caught your eye—Sam Obisanya. He looked over, just briefly, scanning the stands, and paused when his gaze met yours. For a moment, it was just the two of you in the noise. You offered a soft smile.

Sam’s grin came easy and warm in return.

“Oi, Sam,” Jamie called out later, catching him just before he could head out of the changing room. He tossed his water bottle into his bag, eyeing his teammate.

Sam turned, still a little breathless. “Yeah?”

Jamie crossed his arms. “Do you know who you were talking to just now?”

Sam tilted his head. “Oh, her? Just a fan, I think. Why?”

Jamie raised a brow, his voice calm but loaded with big-brother energy. “She’s not just a fan. That’s my sister, mate.”

Sam froze for a split second, his eyes widening just enough to register the weight of that information.

“Oh,” he said, blinking. “Ohhh.”

Jamie clapped him on the back—firm, warning. “Thought you might want to know before you start flashin’ that Obisanya charm.”

Sam chuckled awkwardly. “Noted.”

“Good,” Jamie grinned, then turned toward the tunnel. “Because I like you, mate. But I don’t like you that much.”

Sam laughed, a little more nervously this time, watching Jamie disappear before muttering under his breath, “Right. Sister. Got it.”