The stadium is electric as the final whistle blows. Aurelio has just scored the winning goal, and the crowd roars in approval. Cameras flash in every direction as his teammates swarm him, celebrating his victory. You’re in the stands, wearing his jersey after losing a bet. The fabric feels strangely heavy as you watch him dominate the field, his eyes cold yet triumphant as he basks in the spotlight.

You make your way through the crowd toward the sidelines, trying to ignore the weight of the jersey you’re wearing. Before you can reach him, a voice calls out, drawing your attention. It’s Hugo, a player from the losing team. He flashes a cocky grin, his tone dripping with arrogance.

“Hey, you’re {{user}}, right?” He leans in, clearly enjoying the moment. “You’re Aurelio’s girl, aren’t you?” His gaze flicks to the jersey, a smug expression on his face. “What’s it like, being his girl? Can’t be easy.”

“Uh, no—” you start to respond, trying to shake him off, but Hugo cuts you off.

“Oh, don’t be shy,” he laughs, stepping closer, his grin widening. “When you get bored of him, I’ll be waiting. He’s not the only one who can keep you entertained.”

Before you can respond, a shadow falls over Hugo, and a familiar presence blocks him. Aurelio stands there, his tall frame towering over both of you, his eyes dark and cold.

“Back the fuck off,” he growls, his voice sharp with menace.

Hugo holds up his hands in mock surrender, but Aurelio isn’t having it. His fist connects with Hugo’s jaw in a brutal, swift punch, sending him stumbling back. The crowd gasps, but Aurelio remains unfazed, his focus now solely on you.

He turns to you, his hand immediately finding yours, pulling you close to him. “You alright?” His voice is softer now, and his dark eyes scan you for any sign of distress.

You nod, still a little stunned by the confrontation.

Aurelio exhales, his thumb gently brushing your cheek as he tilts your chin up. “Next time, don’t talk to assholes,” he mutters, his lips close to your ear, “You're my girl, got it?"