After calling my sister on me, Mapi leaves to hurry Ingrid along so that they aren't late for training, seeing as her girlfriend gets coffee on the way there every morning. Head hanging in shame, I sit on my sofa, letting Jaimie hiss about bravery and blindness and cowardice. It goes in one ear and out the other, naturally. I don't really give a fuck about what she has to say. I know that I hate Alexia, and Alexia hates me. That doesn't change just because she also would like to kiss me. And it certainly isn't affected by how I would like to kiss her too.

"Why are you so miserable today?" Talia complains as I skip the fifth song in a row she has put on. "It is sunny and it is warm and it is a good day to play football." She presses play on a song that makes me jump. "Ah. Alexia."

I want to hit my head against the steering wheel. Fed-up, I give her what she wants. "Yes, Alexia." She changes the music to something that isn't Rosalía, seeming equally relieved to not have it playing anymore.

"I saw her this morning with a matching face to yours." I assume Mapi called Alba, too. Recently, I found out that Alexia's sister has had a girlfriend all along, which is leading me to believe that Alexia kissing me at Mapi's party didn't come from nowhere, but I think I am being dramatic and it truly was a mistake. "So, what? Did you fight? She was in your home last night. I saw."

Attempting to not shout at her with horror, I focus on the road for a moment, taking in a deep breath. We are almost at the training centre. "How? Why do you even care?"

"Because I... wanted to know if I am right," she confesses with a tinge of guilt in her tone, not able to look at me.

I am intrigued. "About what?" I ask.

"That she is your girlfriend!" And I swear FC Barcelona Femení almost loses two of its new players there and then, because what the fuck is going on in Talia's mind? "¡Joder! ¡No me mates, por favor!"

"Well don't say stupid things then!" I screech back, just as terrified about how I swerved on foreign roads as she is. Taking a few deep breaths to reassure myself that I know how to drive, I glance at the terrified woman beside me. "Jesus fucking Christ, Talia. You are insane."

She scratches her head, confused. "But Salma said to me that you are together? And you always look at her like you are in love?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," I scoff, parking the car next to Lucy Bronze's Cupra. Said woman gets out of the car as I pull up, almost whacking the door into Talia's side. It has been an eventful car journey. So unnecessarily eventful that Talia and I are both quick to hop out. I hand her her kitbag and she tells me that she is going to go with Salma and Vicky to look for a sock she left lying around a few days ago. Finding that to be typical of her, I resign to socialising with someone else. "Alright, see you later. Make sure you check in the showers."

"Sí, adiós." She smiles as she scurries off. I shake my entire body, embarrassed at how motherly that felt. I'm only twenty-five.

"Mornin'," Lucy chirps as she sidles up to me, nudging my hip with her own. "That's so unfair, you know. I couldn't sleep last night with Kei pacing up and down the bedroom for no reason. Some of us need rest after games." I stare at her, puzzled. "Fleur, you look as if you have had five days of straight sleep. Tell me your secrets."

I realise that Talia has wiped my misery from my face and I have forgotten to put it back on. It's true that I slept well next to (possibly on top of) Alexia, but I didn't think it would be noticeable. I usually look this relaxed, don't I?

"I closed my eyes," I reply as plainly as my voice will allow. "Do you think this will be another captain-led recovery, or will they let the physios do their jobs this time?"

Lucy sighs, shrugging. "I prefer Alexia's session. It's not like she doesn't get told exactly what to do by the physios, she's just also there to... guide us. I think it's a good idea. I've never been at a club that has such strong leadership before."

"Shame the leadership in question is her," I mutter under my breath. If Lucy hears, she doesn't rise to it. "Well, I suppose we should get this over with, then. Do you have media after this?"

"Nah, I'm gonna walk Narla along this new trail and then veg on the couch until tomorrow." We trudge our way to the changing rooms, joining the stream of players.

"I do," I groan, wondering who they could have paired me with. Talia has plans later so it isn't her, and Mapi says she is going for lunch with a few of our teammates. Whoever it is, I hope the interview is not in Spanish.

━━━━━━━

Of course it's Alexia. Why would I ever be so stupid to believe that for once the universe wanted to give me a fucking break?

She gives me a curt nod as she sits on one side of Jonatan. They understated what this media session was, as it turns out to be a mini press conference. I take my seat on the other side of our manager, getting ready to zone out to the background noise of Spanish that is way too advanced for me.

The journalists end up wanting to ask me more questions than anyone else, though the language barrier leads the translator ultimately being the one talking the most. We are all surprised. I am glad that I had a suitable night's sleep.

When the dreaded topic is brought up, ignited by a tall, thin man with black glasses, Jonatan looks ready to call it a day. The moderator tells me that I don't have to answer the question, and that it is fine to sit back and pretend I haven't heard him clearly. I nod at the translator to continue her sentence, however, and then glance at my manager for permission. He nods. "Yes, I will be playing in the second leg. There comes a time when you have to separate the personal from the professional. I want to win the Champions League, and I want to win it with Barcelona."

There's a spattering of applause before we are being thanked by the moderator and ushered out into the corridor.

Jonatan, though seemingly apprehensive, leaves Alexia and I alone, hurrying off with the goalkeeper coach to discuss something about Cata. It becomes the two of us in an empty hallway, walking in the same direction to get to the carpark.

"You are going to be on the news for that," Alexia says, breaking the silence as we get to the exit, knowing that we won't have to talk long if she starts now. She nudges my shoulder gently; a friendly gesture. It's foreign. "'Fleur de Voss, the next Johan Cruyff'."

"My father would frame that article and put it next to my sister's tennis trophies," I reply with an equally light tone.

Gravel crunches beneath our feet as we fall into a brief silence, before Alexia nears her car and slows down. "Thank you for last night. It was nice to sleep for once. I am sorry for how I left." I can't look her in the eye, remembering why she ran out like she did. "And I am happy that you want to win the Champions League with us. You are very good at football, Fleur."

"So are you, Alexia," I reply, partly stunned by how nice she is being to me.

"Yes. Goodbye." She steps towards the vehicle determinedly, as if she is fumbling her way through an embarrassing situation. Before I can think about it further, I realise that I have completely forgotten to check when the bikes Jaimie has ordered for us are going to be delivered, because, and she explicitly stated this, I have to sign for them at the entrance of the complex and carry them up by myself.

"Have a nice day," I rush out, finishing the conversation before I retrieve my phone from my bag and call my sister, worried she will strangle me for messing up a very expensive late-night purchase.

Jaimie laughs when she hears how flustered I am, apologising for being dramatic. The delivery has been delayed and is arriving tomorrow instead. So is she. Her flight lands at midday, and she wants a tour of the Barcelona training ground. Apparently, football clubs love getting her to meet the men's team. As she natters on about how great and amazing she is and how Leah is actually not doing as well as she is pretending to be, I let myself pick apart my weird conversation with Alexia.

It was only strange because she acted like a human. I think I had forgotten that she was one. For instance, last night, as I held her, I felt the comforting warmth of her body and heard her soft breathing as she fell asleep, but it is not as if she has been particularly pleasant to me ever since I got here in January. All of a sudden, she has changed. She is more than simply the annoying captain of my club. She is a woman, just like the rest of us.

I don't know. It's bizarre.

Like, Alexia Putellas might actually have a heart?

━━━━━━━

The day of the match hits me as though I hadn't realised it would come.

I wake up to Jaimie plopping herself down on my legs as if they don't earn me my wage, spreading out in a starfish-like hug which is more her just lying on top of me. She hums as if I am not going to be roused from my slumber by her absolute invasion of my personal space, and then drops the act to crawl under my duvet and squeeze me tightly the moment my eyes are fully open.

"You're going to be fine," she declares as if to convince herself too. "I have made breakfast and you need to get out of bed and do your silly pre-game things. Footballers are so weird." Jaimie starts her matchdays with her and her coach playing a fast-paced card game to get her brain going and then something that requires fast physical reactions to fire up her body. I just do what our trainers tell us to do.

She kisses my cheek happily, and I wonder why she is smothering me. I suddenly feel quite sticky and... "You're soaked in sweat!" She cackles, leaping upwards before I can attack her. So much for an injured calf, because she seems to dart away from me very painlessly. "Come back here," I shout, and she has successfully gotten me into the kitchen for breakfast.

I catch her, ready to press her head against the wall for however long it takes for me to feel compensated for a thoroughly unhygienic morning greeting, but she taps out with an exaggerated gasp and points to a plate of hagelslag and a glass of her disgusting juice beside it. "Eat and drink. The juice is good for you."

"Are you sponsored by them?" I question, wondering why on Earth she buys it.

"Of course. I'm not paying that price for it when it tastes like vomit. But my nutritionist researched it properly, and it is quite beneficial so I put up with it. And the sprinkles are low sugar before you cry about losing your obnoxiously toned abs." She pushes me to my plate and takes a seat at the dining table where her own breakfast has been served. It's the same, although her sprinkles look nicer. Mine are fruit. Hers are fucking chocolate.

A knock at the door interrupts our pleasant silence, but it's only Talia. "No hay comida en mi casa," she grumbles, rolling her eyes at her roommate's tendency to not go shopping for anything edible. "Is this your sister?" She walks straight inside, grinning at Jaimie. "You are so much cooler than Fleur. She is so boring."

"I agree," Jaimie laughs, already fixing Talia her own portion of hagelslag, revealing that she hates me because she gives our guest one slice with chocolate and the other with fruit. "This is a Dutch specialty. It's sprinkles on buttered bread. Have you tried fairy bread? It's like that."

Talia takes a bite of the chocolate one first, moaning in delight. "In Cordóba, we are eating a cookie and a glass of milk for breakfast. And, Jaimie, in my home there is no food at all. I starve."

"You do not starve," I scoff, joining them at the table once more. "I see you devour half of the food at training. You and Salma sit there with five plates between you."

She shrugs. "Yes, but I am hungry still." Her plate is empty quickly, and she reaches for my juice. I let her make that mistake, laughing as she gags. "Joder, why do you have that?"

"It's good for you," Jaimie says as if her sponsors are in the room with us. She is like a walking advertisement for it. "You two finish up. I'm going to shower. I cycled 10k before Fleur even considered returning to the land of the living." She sighs as though I am not also a professional athlete, shoving the fabric of her saturated top in my face before sauntering off to the bathroom, leaving Talia clutching her sides at my unimpressed expression.

"She's older than me, you know. It's unbelievable."

I recognise that look on Talia's face. "Your sister is really hot."

"She's dating the England captain."

"I know. I also have a–" She claps her hand over her mouth, eyes widening.

"Natalia Elisabet Segura, do you have a secret that you'd like to share?" I prod, giving her a poke. "I don't speak enough Spanish to get all of the chisme but I swear I've heard–"

"No!" She's blushing. "Es complicado. Thank you for breakfast. I need to get ready." Stood up and ready to go, she grins at me with a youthfulness I wish I still possessed.

I walk her to the door. "Do you need me to take you to the training ground later?"

"I am going to go with Alexia." I raise my eyebrows at her shiftiness. "Eso es complicado también."

"If you wish to suffer, go ahead. I'll see you later." She gives me a hug goodbye – something I have had to get used to – and trots her way down the stairs. Our building is slowly being taken over by Barcelona Femení players who only use the lift on the way back from training or matches. It must get sweaty in there. It's a wonder the other residents haven't complained.

With Talia admittedly brightening my day, Jaimie and I go for a short walk in the neighbourhood to pass some of the time before I have to leave. She tells me more about the documentary they are going to make about us, and I decide that I want to do it. My sister is clever and is doing a very good job at distracting me for what is to come. It is a good thing my phone is on Do Not Disturb on the walk, because, when I check it later, I see that Sam and Erin have tried to comfort me for what they decide is an inevitable breakdown. I resolve to hold it together tonight as much as I can. Alexia was right about what I said in the press conference the other day; my quote has been splattered across quite a few headlines.

"Fleur?" Jonatan pulls me aside as we disembark the coach at Camp Nou. We stand out of the view of any cameras, snug in a safe spot between the players' entrance and the exposed part between the coach and the stadium. "I am going to start you, but I want you to feel you can come off the pitch if you need to. The crowd will be asked to keep silent in the seventy-fifth minute, but the game will continue. If you would like to stop playing, you may."

Fuck me. That silence is going to be awful.

"Um, thank you," I mutter, not entirely sure what to tell him. "But I want to play the full ninety."

He nods, annoyingly understanding about it. "Okay, but we will talk again at half time. I want you to play ninety minutes, too. You are essential to our success." He pats me on the back and tells me to head inside, and I duck my head to avoid the clamour of the crowd waiting to catch a glimpse of me. They call out my name but I set my focus to what I want to happen tonight. No one dies and we win.

No one dies and we win.

Shouldn't be too hard to achieve. 

notes: 

shit. this fic has been NEGLECTED but i've finished stay away (go and read that btw!) so now it has my full attention for a while 

i've missed fleur and i've missed the story so let's get started on the real stuff ;)

hagelslag is a dutch food that is, as jaimie explained, sprinkles on buttered bread. interestingly, if the sprinkles are chocolate they have to be comprised of over 32% cocoa to be classed as such

chisme = gossip 

eso es complicado también = that's complicated too

i also can't decide whether my fav part of this chapter is fleur nearly killing her and talia in the car OR fleur realising alexia might be human lol 

thanks for reading! i've missed you guys xx