"That's my seventh rejection email of the month." Billie groaned as she tossed her phone on the bar in defeat.

"Chin up, love," Mae smiled sympathetically, "Something'll come up, anyone would be lucky to have you."

"Even if it means losing your best barmaid?" Billie remarked with a grin.

"I'm willing to make the sacrifice, sweetheart," Mae replied, knowing how hard the girl had been working to secure a job in the industry she so desperately wanted to work in.

Billie had been working part time at The Crown and Anchor since she'd returned from university in the summer. Mae, the landlady had grown quickly fond of the girl's charming personality when she came in enquiring about shifts, and once her regulars discovered who her big brother was, they were adamant that Mae give her a job.

You'd automatically presume that being the youngest sister of footballing legend Roy Kent unlocks a plethora of opportunities. But people who work in the media don't seem to care about that. The only people who have ever cared about who the girl's brother was were the boys at school and the punters in the Crown and Anchor.

She knew that there were dozens of siblings of famous people who used their last name to springboard their careers. Brothers and sisters of footballers, pop stars and actors starting brands, becoming influencers and making a tonne of money. None of that appealed to her, she much preferred a slice of the quiet life, something her friends always seemed to ridicule her for.

Besides, Billie had a strict no nepotism rule, everything she had achieved was of her own merit. She wasn't going to settle for just being handed an opportunity simply because her brother was Roy Kent.

From her first ever sports day to her graduation, her brother was there in the front row, prouder than everyone else in the room. He was a teenager when his first sister was born, becoming a brother at sixteen years old to another little girl only made him more protective. No boy was good enough to date her, no gift was too expensive, and any school event always trumped the importance of a training session.

"Would you be a darling and take those plates over to the boys?" Mae asked, gesturing to the plates on the pass and then to the three regulars in the corner of the pub, eyes glued to the lunchtime football coverage playing on the wall mounted TV.

"Of course," Billie smiled, balancing the three plates across her hands, a talent she had managed to refine in the months she'd been working with Mae.

She made her way over to the table, each of the boys clinging to a beer, the three of them noticing her presence as they began to chant, "Billie Kent, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo, Billie Kent, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo!"

"You'll be on lemonades if you're not careful boys, you know how Mae feels about football hooliganism on non match days," She told the three of them, pointing to the poster on the wall that served as a reminder. It might have been an AFC Richmond pub, but Mae always wanted the place to be a respected establishment.

"Apologies, Billie," Jeremy nodded.

"What's got you boys so rattled anyway?" She asked, looking up at the TV to see highlights from her brother's club's most recent match on the screen.

"Fucking American prick's gonna get us relegated!" Baz exclaimed, eyes glued to the TV screen.

"Language, Baz," Billie smiled as she placed the plate of pie and mash in front of him, always knowing what each of the boys would order as it remained the same every time.

"Sorry, Billie," Baz replied as she placed the two plates of fish and chips in front of Jeremy and Paul, "It won't happen again."

"Depends on how shit the rest of our season is," Jeremy sighed in defeat, "What does your brother make of this new manager?"

"I don't ask my brother about football, he's just my brother," Billie answered honestly, because as she said Roy would just always be her big brother, regardless of the Champion's League title or the dozens of goals, to her he was just big brother Roy.

"Your brother's Roy Kent and your boyfriend's Bradley Barker, and you don't talk to either of them about football?" Baz exclaimed in disbelief.

"There are far more interesting qualities to the both of them than how good at football they are," Billie told the three of them.

Billie had met Bradley the year before she left for university in Manchester, while Roy was still playing for Chelsea. He was a rising star, having just joined the senior team, and Roy was his mentor. They only started dating when Billie was nineteen, following a reunion when Chelsea played away against Manchester United. They'd ran into each other at a nightclub, and the rest was history.

"But that's pretty fucking cool, your brother's a Chelsea legend and your boyfriend's Chelsea's best defensive midfielder," Jeremy remarked.

"Oi!" Mae shouted from where she stood at the bar, "I'll have no talk of those West London blues, you know the rules."

"Apologies, Mae," The boys smiled awkwardly, noting the second point on Mae's pub rules poster: 'Discussion of rival football clubs is not permitted on these premises.'

"Leave the poor girl alone, she's working," Mae told them as Billie returned to the bar.

"Thank you," She mouthed at Mae with a smile.

"How's your sister?" Mae asked, with genuine intrigue, having grown fond of the youngest Kent sibling and her family.

"Still working ridiculous shifts since she split up with that waste of space, you know what it's like renting in London," Billie sighed, hating her sister's choices in men more than her own, "I'm picking Phoebe up from school after work."

"You're lucky to have such a close bond, you three," Mae smiled admiringly, "And that little girl seems so loved that she'll never feel the absence of her own Dad."

"It's all part of the plan," Billie replied, reminded of the moment over six years beforehand when her sister told her that she was pregnant with Phoebe. There was only one thing that Phoebe loved more than her Uncle Roy and that was her Auntie Billie.

"Can I get a glass of tap water?" Billie looked over her shoulder at the familiar sound of her brother's gruff voice.

"Pipes burst at the training ground?" Billie sighed as she approached her brother, leaning against the bar.

"I'm on my lunch break," Roy answered simply, sticking out as he stood dressed in his Richmond training kit.

"And you've come to the pub that I work at, knowing full well it's full of Richmond fans?" Billie frowned in confusion, "You may as well ask them to mob you."

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Roy asked, cutting straight to the point, hoping to get back to the team's cafeteria before they ran out of his favourite cinnamon buns.

"Working, obviously," Billie rolled her eyes at her brother.

"Could you ask for the day off?" Roy asked, obviously having little experience of how the real world of employment worked.

"I'll just ask for the entire week off while I'm at it, hmm?" She remarked.

"Look, this is worth your while, I assume you've seen we've got a new manager," Roy explained, even though he knew that his sister didn't care for football politics, "New ownership as well."

"This is my 'pretending I give a shit' face, convinced?" Billie replied, even though she knew enough about her brother's football club to know that anyone would be better than Rupert Mannion.

"Well, the new owner, Rebecca Welton has done a mass fucking cull of most of the staff who knew about what Rupert was up to, which is why I came to see you," Roy explained, "Because I thought that you could do that filming and editing shit that you do, for the club."

"I mean if you're actively trying to discredit my degree you're doing a great job," Billie sighed.

"You know I don't care about that shit, but I just know that you're good at it, and I know that you're still trying to find a fucking job that doesn't involve pulling pints," Roy told her, "So would you like to come to the club and show them what you can do?"

"I appreciate you've come all this way, brother," Billie replied, "But, I don't agree with it."

"With what? The Premier League?" Roy scoffed.

"Nepotism."

"If I had a big brother who was a footballer I'd be sponging off that shit for life." Roy exclaimed.

"But I'm not you, Royo," Billie reminded him, "I also don't want to see your ugly mug every day."

"So you're telling me that your only reasons for turning this down are nepotism and sharing a workplace with your big brother?" Roy frowned.

"I'd also hate to leave Mae in the lurch." Billie added.

"I'll pay her a bigger transfer fee." Roy answered, demonstrating his lack of understanding of the real world.

"Roy, that's not how it works in the real world." Billie huffed.

"Well, you better get writing your letter of resignation or whatever the fuck it is," Roy told her, "Because you've got a meeting first thing tomorrow with Miss Welton, I said you'd come and see her."

"Why the fuck'd you do that?" Billie sighed, appreciating her brother's willingness to help her, but deep down feeling incompetent that she'd had to rely on her brother to get her out of a hole.

"Because you're my sister." Roy answered simply, unsure of what else there was to be said.

"I hope you know that if I take the job, I'll make your life a living misery, you'll wish you never offered it," Billie teased, knowing just which buttons to press, "I'll have so many cameras on you, you'll think you're on The Office, UK version, obviously."

"Obviously," Roy nodded, "The cameras wouldn't bother me."

"Really?" Billie smirked, aware of how much her brother hated anything to do with the press or media, "So, when I'm out of ideas of fresh new media content, you'll let me follow you around for a day in the life of Richmond's oldest relic?"

"Watch it," Roy pointed at his sister, unable to hide his smile at her quick witted comeback.

"Well?"

"It wouldn't bother me," Roy replied through gritted teeth with an obviously fake smile.

"Good," Billie nodded, more driven by the prospect of winding up her brother, "Will you pick me up on the way to training tomorrow?"

"You better be ready on time," Roy answered, before making his way out of the pub without another word.

Billie looked over her shoulder at the three boys who had remained glued to the TV screen, too immersed in the chaos of their favourite football club to notice their captain's coming and going. Mae had seen the whole conversation, she had heard it too, deciding that it was the exact opportunity that Billie needed. She adored the youngest Kent sibling, but she knew that the girl needed to fly before the universe could clip her wings.

"You've got the day off tomorrow," Mae told her as she joined her at the bar.

"You don't have to do that, Mae," Billie smiled, appreciative of the sweet gesture.

"I know I don't," Mae smiled fondly, "But you're destined for far greater things than the confines of these four walls."

"Are you sure?" Billie muttered.

"Of course," Mae laughed, "Just don't forget about us."

"Who are you?" Billie teased.

"Fuck off!" Mae laughed.

Billie's shift had ended the same time it always did on the days she was looking after her niece, Phoebe. She made her way across Richmond Green as speedily as she could, getting caught up in a game of five aside between a bunch of high school kids, one of the girls easily overpowering the boys with her football skills.

Football had never been something she cared much about, she'd been to a few matches to see her brother and also to watch Bradley play. Most of the time she was there to see Brad was when his agent wanted to dispel cheating rumours fuelled by Bradley's promiscuity. But she just didn't have the same passion for the game that she saw in everyone else in the stadium.

Even though she didn't see much of her big brother when she was growing up, given that he was living in Sunderland, he still made the effort to come home to see her as much as possible, all while trying to get her into football. Roy trying to get her the job at his football club was simply his way of trying to make up for all the years of her childhood he missed when he was in Sunderland.

Billie entered the playground of Phoebe's school that was much bigger than where she had gone to school. She made her way through the various groups of parents to see her niece stood beside her teacher at the open classroom door.

"Billie, it's good to see you again," Phoebe's teacher smiled as the young woman reached the classroom.

"You too, Ms Bowen," Billie smiled, "How's the little terror been?"

"Just the two swear words," Ms Bowen answered in defeat.

"So when it's me or Uncle Roy it costs a pound, but you get a free pass, huh?" Billie frowned at her niece.

"You're an adult, you're meant to be leading by example," Phoebe answered succinctly.

"I think she's got you there," Ms Bowen sighed.

"I think you might be right," Billie replied, holding her hand out to her niece, "Come on, Pheebs."

"Bye, Ms Bowen!" Phoebe called out as she left the school grounds hand in hand with her favourite auntie.

"So apart from swearing, what did you get up to today?" Billie asked her niece as they made their way along the street that led to Billie's flat, which thankfully wasn't far from the school.

"Art, maths, science and English," Phoebe told her with a smile, the kind of smile that told Billie that her niece was still awash with the classic innocence of a child who enjoys everything about school, she wondered how long it would last.

"And what did you learn?" Billie asked, always sure to take an interest in the little girl's life.

"I wrote a story in English, but Ms Bowen said I used too many rude words," Phoebe admitted as the two girls turned a corner onto Billie's street.

"Which rude words were those exactly?" Billie asked, noticing her niece's hesitance to answer, "This is a safe space, Pheebs, Uncle Roy doesn't have to know."

"We had to write a story about Willy Wonka," Phoebe explained, "And I called him 'Pricky Wanka' in my story, Ms Bowen didn't like that."

"It's creative, I'll give you that, kiddo," Billie sighed, attempting to hide the smile that threatened to creep onto her face, "But that sort of language is what we call NSFS."

"What does that mean?" Phoebe asked, looking up at her auntie.

"Not safe for school," Billie answered as they reached the small flat overlooking Richmond Green that the Kent girl shared with her two best friends, "But that doesn't mean you can throw those words around willy nilly."

"Willy what?" Phoebe frowned as Billie unlocked the front door.

"Never you mind," Billie laughed, ushering Phoebe up the stairs to her flat that sat above an ice cream shop, which Billie had quickly concluded was Phoebe's second reason for preferring it to her Uncle Roy's bachelor pad.

The first reason was Alfie Sykes, her housemate and best friend since school.

"Alfie, we're back," Billie called up the stairs, trailing behind Phoebe, knowing that Alfie would most likely be working from home.

"I'm in the front room," He answered, even though the kitchen and living room in their flat was open plan, and barely fit the three friends who were renting it.

But, hey, that's the London rental market for you.

"Alfie!" Phoebe grinned as she entered the room, discarding her school bag and coat on the dining table before sitting herself beside him on the sofa, "Who are you writing about?"

"Don't tell your auntie," Alfie whispered, showing Phoebe the article on his laptop screen, looking over his shoulder at Billie who was observing the interaction and could see the photo of her boyfriend's blonde buzz cut on the screen.

"What's he done this time?" Billie sighed as she sat on Alfie's left, retrieving the laptop and scanning the article.

"It's more so about how he's the reason Chelsea will finish in the top four this season," Alfie explained.

"Don't let Pheebs hear you say that," Billie smirked, glancing at her niece, "You know how strong her allegiance is."

"As is mine," Alfie remarked, placing his hand on his chest, "Richmond till I die and all that jazz."

"Fuck me, you're more insufferable than my brother," Billie huffed, retrieving the TV remotes from the coffee table.

"That's another pound," Phoebe quipped.

"How's the league table looking so far, Phoebe?" Alfie asked with genuine interest.

"One moment," Phoebe replied, jumping up from the sofa, rushing over to her school bag and retrieving her pink notepad and pen before rushing back to where she'd been sat beside Alfie, "Uncle Roy is number one with £1827, Auntie Billie is next with £1253, then it's Mum, which is just twenty three quid, that's normally when she's talking to my dad or that time she stubbed her toe, and then you and Maddie are joint on zero."

"Well, Madds is a teacher," Billie remarked, unsure how exactly that would help her case.

"She teaches teenagers, she probably lets it all out at work," Alfie added, supporting Phoebe.

"What's your excuse, Mr sports journalist?" Billie raised her eyebrows at her friend.

"I respect and acknowledge the presence of the seven year old," Alfie answered, "And your brother scares the shit out of me."

"One pound, Alfie!" Phoebe exclaimed.

"Can I start a tab?" Alfie sighed in defeat.

"It's a slippery slope," Phoebe muttered, adding a new column to her tally chart.

"I got made an interesting offer today," Billie told Alfie, happy for Phoebe to hear too, "For a job."

"No more pub?" Phoebe's eyes lit up, hoping that her aunt was finally deciding to start her own ice cream shop empire.

"Roy came to the pub, said Richmond are under new management, do you know anything about that?" Billie asked Alfie.

"Yes indeedy," Alfie answered, opening another tab on his laptop, displaying a published article for The Guardian where he worked.

RICHMOND'S GREYHOUNDS SET TO PERFORM LIKE A DOG'S DINNER THIS SEASON

"I love your work, Alf," Billie sighed, "But can you just explain it to me instead?"

"Rebecca Welton has taken ownership of the club following her divorce with Rupert Mannion, she's fired George Cartrick and replaced him with an American football coach," Alfie explained.

"What's wrong with America?" Billie asked, "Apart from their slack gun policies, views on female autonomy and driving on the wrong side of the road?"

"He's an American Football coach, as in throw the ball, catch and run," Alfie explained it in layman's terms, "They've bought in a coach who knows nothing about the sport."

"Sounds fun," Billie answered, unsure if it was the sort of place she'd want to call her workplace.

"So what's the job?" Alfie asked.

"I don't know, something media based at the club, Roy obviously doesn't have a clue what any of it means," Billie replied.

"I suppose it's hard to know when your main source of entertainment growing up was drawing on stone tablets with chalk," Alfie added.

"It's a hard-knock life," Billie smiled as she noticed Phoebe busying herself with her notepad.

"Alright, Little Miss the sun will come up tomorrow," Alfie rolled his eyes, "What are you doing about the job?"

"Well, I've got a meeting with Rebecca Welton first thing tomorrow, so it'll depend on that," Billie told him.

"Please try not to mess it up, deliberately or not," Alfie answered, "It sure would be nice to see my best friend finally putting her degree to good use."

"Alright, Mr my uncle is chief sports editor at The Guardian," Billie rolled her eyes.

"Billie, your brother is literally he's here, he's every effing-where, Roy Kent," Alfie quipped, noting Phoebe's presence, "So less of the nepo-slander, please."

"Pheebs, what do you want to watch?" Billie asked, choosing to ignore the responsibility of asking if the girl had homework to do.

"Football Focus," The girl replied, "So we can see what they think of Uncle Roy."

"Of course you do."

author's note: hope you enjoyed the first chapter...billie will be meeting jamie soon enough