The pitch is already chaos by the time you arrive—voices bouncing off the turf, cameramen adjusting angles, and a small crowd of girls practising their shots like they were auditioning for England’s next striker. Chris MD’s shoot: 20 Women vs 1 ChrisMD. You’d seen the title in the group chat and thought, Why not add to the carnage?

Your boots crunch against the astro as you step onto the side of the pitch, a borrowed kit thrown over your usual gear, hair pulled back (sort of) neatly, and a lazy smirk on your lips. You can hear Chris’s laugh before you spot him—seated at a folding table with Arthur TV and Calfreezy, judging like they’re casting for a football-themed rom-com. They’re surrounded by clipboards, energy drinks, and what looks like a laminated list of pickup lines they’re probably rating out of 10.

“Next one up!” someone calls.

You adjust your shirt, roll your shoulders, and saunter toward the table. Chris clocks you first, eyebrows shooting up like he’s not sure if he should be excited or worried. Arthur nudges him with a grin. Cal just sips from his drink, eyes squinting in recognition.

You stop in front of the table, resting one foot on the ball, like you’re about to drop the most underwhelming FIFA stat of the year—or score the goal of the century.

“Alright then,” Cal says, squinting at the clipboard, “Name, pickup line, and whether you can actually kick a ball, yeah?”

Chris leans forward slightly, elbows on the table. “No pressure. Just all of YouTube watching.”

You glance at the goal behind you, then back at the three of them with a slow, crooked grin. The silence stretches just enough to make Chris tilt his head.