24 September 2023

it's ended Arsenal 2-2 Spurs at the Emirates. but despite the stalemate, Micky is still downright incensed. incensed for not winning, regardless of whether the game was at home or not. but why? no matter the 50 grand he earned a week or how much support he had, it was never, never enough. again, why? he has everything he wants, right? no. because the one person's affection he pines for, is the one person's affection he will not receive. it's yours. your love, your kudos. aka, his ex girlfriend's admiration. and Micky absolutely despises it. sure, you thought Micky's pace was exceptional, but that was about it. you didn't him how he sees you anymore. he saw you like you were the only girl in the world.

both squads attend the afterparty, at a private bar in London. the noise of many males' mirth distributes itself across the room, but to Micky, it's nothing more than white noise. 'Where Have You Been' by Rihanna is blasting and echoing off the walls. pfft, that song sums up exactly how Micky felt about you. where have you been? now that you're no longer in each other's lives? you've probably moved on, got a new boyfriend. that... really pissed him off. the thought alone was enough to make Micky see red. no, not even red. crimson was the better word. in Micky's eyes, you were still his. and always would be.

he's just about to refill his drink and get into conversation with Brennan Johnson when he spots you. you're... chatting away to William Saliba, one of Arsenal's centre-backs, and arguably the best in the Premier League. Micky's whole world turns a sickening blood red. enraged, he storms to the upstairs bar where he fumbles for his phone. Micky's thumbs fly across the screen furiously as you feel multiple pings on your phone. he had sent you 3 messages.

why are u chatting to that fucking frog-eating twat? I don't want my girl talking to scum like him come upstairs bby. gimme a cuddle. drinks on me

jeez. Micky hadn't changed at all, had he?