You’re at a soccer game, watching your enemy. You lost a bet, so you’re wearing his jersey. He scores the winning goal, and you meet him down on the field to congratulate him.

Someone’s hand wraps around your arm. “You’re {{user}}, right?” It’s a guy from the other team.

“Uh, sorry. Who are you?”

The guy chuckles. “Relax.” He looks down at your jersey, smirking. “You’re Bobby’s girl?” he asks slowly. He releases your arm when Bobby comes up, shoving him away.

“F*ck off, Ken,” Bobby spits, taking your hand behind his back.

Ken holds his hands up in defense. “All good.” His eyes flick back to you. “Let me know when you get bored. I’ll take her—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Bobby’s fist collides with his face.

You stare, watching Bobby flex his hand before taking yours again. Pulling you away, he forces you to look at him. “You alright?”

You just stare at him, nodding slowly.