Chaos. Voices. Flashlights. Cameras. An endless of maze of people she had to pass through, that seemed to get thinner with every step she’d take. Even when she was away from the journalists, the noise remained. Teammates following behind her, calling her name but she couldn’t stop for anyone. All she could hear clearly was the loud beating of her anxious heart that anytime now would probably fall of her chest. And then silence. A loud bang of the bathroom door closing and everything was shut out of the door. She cuddled herself on the floor, hugging her knees up to her chest and counting down the numbers she had learned from kindergarten.

MAGAZINE “MATCH” LONDON OFFICES – 1 MONTH LATER

Silence. Low sound of keyboards and chatter on the background. Taylor is sitting in one of the cubicle desks in main foyer. She has her head leaned on her hand, her face giving away her boredom as she read through one of the articles that were sent to her. She printed it and got up, she went to her Boss’s office, leaving the files on his desk.

“Already done?” he asked

“I’m a quick reader.”

“or a lazy one.”

“I don’t appreciate my work ethic being questioned like that.” She warned, cutting off his jokes before he could go any farther.

“right… thank you, you can go then.”

“Did you consider my request? About champions league?”

“I told you I have more experienced writer’s on that.”

“Did you even read my points?”

Her boss rolled his eyes “Ms. Wilock, why don’t you go back and finish your work instead of telling me how to do mine?”

She wanted to punch him. Knock his head on the desk and walk away with her head held high but instead she just left his office, cursing every curse word on the dictionary. As she sat back on her desk and opened her computer, she saw a post about the PSG game against Montpellier and Kylian’s injury that apparently was gonna keep him out of the game with Bayern. Her mind going back to the last time she saw all of them together.

1 MONTH EARLIER – PARC DE PRINCES

Kylian rushed to find her, he was stopped by Neymar before he could reach the bathroom door, pushed back by him. “Told you not to fuck with her!” he warned. Kylian slapped Neymar’s hand away and tried to move passed him. Ney stood in front of him, unbothered “Leave her alone!”

They’d continue fighting if it wasn’t for Taylor’s father walking by them to get to his daughter. Kylian slipped away from Neymar and followed Charlie. Marquinhos joining them shortly after.

“Taylor, it’s me! Open the door!” Said her dad knocking for her. There was no response.

“What the ‘ell happened?” Verratti came in, raising his hands. The second Kylian saw him, he felt like he lost any patience he was left with. He tried to attack him, jumping forward.

“Toi et ta ami!” he shouted, Marquinhos held him back. Standing between Verratti and Mbappe. The team was falling apart and all because of a vicious woman that wanted to make a name for herself in the cost of others.

“You’re blaming this on Verratti?” yelled Neymar, ready to grab Kylian by the arm but getting dragged away last minute by Messi. “He’s not the one that said those things about her on a microphone!”

“I didn’t know I was being recorded!” he defended himself.

Taylor’s father kept knocking, still no response, while the boys behind him were fighting like animals but he didn’t care about them, he didn’t care about whose fault it was, he just wanted to make sure that his daughter would be ok. The door opened just a tiny bit and he got inside, shutting it again. Kylian was gonna walk in as well if it wasn’t for Neymar standing in front of it. “Don’t you fucking dare!” The door flew open again, her father coming out worried.

“Get one of the medics here, Now!” he shouted and Leo with Marquinhos were the first to ran down the hallway and search for help. Mbappe snuck in the bathroom and saw her on the floor, her back on the wall, half conscious, rapid breathing, her hand on her chest. She had been showing signs of getting worse for a while now, he never thought it’d be this bad. Neymar held her up with the help of her father and Kylian felt so helpless, so useless in that moment. He was pushed by the medics who came in and took control with moving her while they gave her an oxygen mask to help her breathing. That gave her some sort of peace. He trailed behind the medics while they moved her to calmer room, to let her lay in there. He watched them moving calmly around her, one of them injecting her with something while her dad gave them her full medical history from the back of his head. He made a few steps, he wanted to find the one that caused this. He went to exit the room and Messi blocked him.

“I know what you are thinking and it’s not happening.”

“I just wanna talk to her.”

“She’s with Galtier. He’s handling it.”

“He doesn’t care about taylor.” Said Kylian, waving his head “He’ll just fire her when Ann tells him everything.”

“What’s everything?”

Kylian didn’t answer but his eyes betrayed him. Everything about his posture was betraying him. Messi held back any judgement, there was just pity in his eyes while he looked at Kylian with his hands on his hips. “go home.” He told him. “She’ll be ok and the journalist will be handled— Kylian! You do anything else and this will only get worse for her. Go home.”

“I’ll take him.” Said Neymar. The two other men looked at him kinda worried “I’m not gonna drive the car on a wall, don’t worry.”

Kylian looked behind Neymar, Charlie was coming out of the small room with one of the medics, looking calm. Neymar turned around and walked over to Charlie “Is she good?”

“Yes. She’s fine, it was just an episode.” Charlie met Kylian’s eyes, it was easy for him to point out the guilt in them. Kylian gathered up his courage and walked up to him.

“I’m sorry for the part I might have had in this—”

Charlie raised his hand “Don’t, son. This wasn’t you. Her disease is something we both had to live with, like you, I blamed myself a lot. But it’s no ones fault.” He paused “Walk with me.” He motioned his head and Kylian followed. For the first few steps they said nothing, then— “It’s a tricky thing, our condition. It makes everything a little harder. Things that come easy to most of the people, like breathing, it’s something we struggle with most times.” They stopped in front of a window, the moon watching over them. “She had to sacrifice way more than I did, I think sacrificing became a way of living for her.” He looked up and down at Kylian “I’m not dumb. I know more than she thinks about you two.” Kylian looked down. “I can also see in your eyes that you didn’t mean to hurt her today.” Kylian rubbed his face.

“I don’t even remember talking to that woman.”

“My worst fear is that when I am gone, Taylor will sacrifice everything again. Cause sacrificing it’s all she’s ever known. And I need to be sure before I do, that she’ll have something that will stop her from doing so. Anything that she can count on, the same way she is counting on me.” Kylian could already feel the weight of what her father was asking him “if you wanna make it better, make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Kylian let his words linger in his head. He thought about it while Neymar was driving him home. The silence was loud between the two.

“I should have spoken to Galtier.” He suddenly said “see what he knows. Prevent him from making any rush decisions.” Neymar gripped on the steering wheel. “What happened is on me. If he doesn’t know about me and her there’s no reason to fire her—”

“He knows Kylian!” Kylian looked up at Neymar. Neymar puffed his cheekbones “I spoke with Marquinhos. Ann told him everything. All her theories at least. She’s running with it…” he shook his head “Taylor shouldn’t have to go through this. They’ll eat her alive.”

Kylian wanted to knock his head in the window, instead he settled for hitting his knee repeatedly. While he was trying to recall anytime that they might have been seen together, anytime they held on each other for too long when they were cameras around, every time he teased her, brought her to her limit.

“HEY!KY! STOP!”

“MERDE!” He yelled and punched the door with his fist.

“Galtier is trying to control it”

“he’s going to control it by firing her—I promised her this wouldn’t happen!”

Neymar stopped the car outside of Kylian’s garage. A moment ago he would be yelling at him but he could see how much he was regretting his actions and how guilty he felt for Taylor. Perhaps, he thought, he really cared about his friend. “Go to sleep. We can fix this in the morning.”

Kylian nodded and left his car. He went up to his house, sitting on his bed, the bed she used to spent her nights in for a week before he blew everything up. He closed his eyes, covering them with his hands and let his mind wonder to the few memories he had with her. During half time, just a few hours ago the team was in the locker rooms, messed up because of how the game was going. She walked to the middle. Her eyes meeting his, because they had this secret understanding with each other.

“we’re a team” she said, her voice low but confident “from the ball boys, to you, to all the assistants, me, Galtier, we are a team. We lose and mourn together, win and celebrate together and defeats are softened and victories sweetened because we did them together.” She was looking at him when she said the last few words, he smiled. “so go out there and be a team and whatever happens we will deal with it together.”

Together. He wanted to hug her when she said that, it’s like his body and soul needed the contact and it killed him that he couldn’t do it. He settled for a short squeeze of hands and went back out there to play, clueless of the chaos that would follow just a while after. She doesn’t deserve it, he thought.

He got up quickly and went at his desk on the living room, throwing his documents left and right searching for something. He looked under the desk too but couldn’t find it. One thing was for sure, he wouldn’t stop until he did.

TAYLOR’S HOUSE – NIGHT

“come on, lay down.” Charlie helped her sit on the bed and ran on the kitchen to get an extra glass of water for her. She drank it all, mostly because she knew her father wouldn’t really give her a choice about it. Then she laid down, closing her eyes. “you need rest.”

“I need to know what the public knowns.”

“Nothing about you and Kylian yet, other than that you hate each other. What are you doing—put the phone down.” He took the phone from her and left it back on the nightstand.

“I want to talk to Galtier!”

“Tomorrow! You need to sleep!

“Did Marquinhos call?”

“Taylor!”

She kept her mouth shut, biting her lip, her eyes reflecting all of the sorrow she was feeling “did he call?”

Her father took the glass from her hand and laid her on the bed, dragging the blankets from under her and covering with them so she would warm. He tucked her in, lifting the blanket up to her chin so no part of her would be exposed. Taylor kept looking at him, waiting for him to give answer. “sleep, you’ll talk to everyone in the morning.”

But the night would only grow longer and the morning didn’t seem to be coming any time soon for either of the two and the grew more impatient, waiting for the sun to come up. Kylian was the first to leave his apartment. It was barely morning, the sky was still purple, the Paris streets were empty and as he drove, he kept thinking if he was doing the right thing. Then all of a sudden he was outside of Galtier’s mansion. He knocked on the door, a repeated loud knock until one of the maids opened up and he rushed inside, searching for his coach. Galtier came out of his kitchen confused.

“What are you doing here?”

“You shouldn’t fire her!”

Galtier sighed, his face proving just how tired he was already from this situation.

“Listen to me! I didn’t mean what I said—I was angry!” he searched in his pocket.

“Kylian! It’s not about what you said—” Galtier stopped talking when Kylian slapped a napkin on his hand. He looked at it, examined it, trying to understand what it was. He could make up some of the names on it, a shape that looked like a football pitch. The handwriting was Taylor’s.

“She did an entire game strategy on napkin. Just two days after she got here. A freaking napkin. And we won! You really going to waste this talent because I was an asshole?” Galtier looked up at him. Pity in his eyes. He motioned for Kylian to come inside the kitchen, he told him to seat while he poured a cup of coffee for each of them. He left the napkin on the table, along with the cup and sat down next to him. Kylian’s confidence was gone, he was back to being a guilty boy, his eyes turned away from anyone that could read them to find out just how broken he was.

“How much of it is true?” asked Galtier. Kylian focused on the smoke from the warm coffee in front of him. He didn’t want to admit to anything that might have been too much, what if it was a trick question. That was a good enough answer for Galtier. “She doesn’t have any pictures. If she did the story would be out already. You’re lucky. But you’re not safe. She’s not safe from the press or the internet.” All Kylian wanted to do was drop his face on the burning coffee. “Ann has in her hands what could be a career changing story, you think she’s going to let it go out of the good of her heart?” Galtier drank a little from his coffee, left the cup back down.

“So what’s the plan?”

“The plan is to let me handle it, so both the team and Taylor come out of it unharmed.”

“What about her job?”

Galtier paused, looked in Kylian’s eyes “that’s not my decision. And before you go rushing to the president’s house… it’s not his decision either. If you know what I mean…”

KYLIAN’S HOUSE – 1 MONTH LATER

“Fuck!” he groaned as he sat up from his couch. It had been a while since the injury but it still hurt when he moved abruptly. He walked over to his door and opened it, to find Neymar and Messi on the other side. Neymar was holding a bag with food and Messi had a box with beers. They walked in before Kylian invited them too, they were already in some deep conversation, speaking in Spanish. Kylian watched them walking to the couch, a bit confused as to why they were here in the first place. The two of them sat on the couch, making themselves comfortable. Neymar even took of his shoes so he could lay his legs on the table and Leo sat cross-legged on the pillows. Kylian approached them slowly, narrowing his eyes, he crossed his arms, standing over them, waiting for them to notice him and pause their conversation. Suddenly Neymar turned to him, looking a little annoyed to Kylian’s surprise.

“You can stand there the whole night? Sit down man, eat!” Neymar opened the bag and took out a couple of wrapped tacos. He placed them on Kylian’s table, who, again, watched while his two teammates started eating over his couch.

“Gosh, these are good! Kylian you should try them—”

“What are you doing here?” he snapped, waving his hands in the air.

Neymar looked at him with a full bite in his mouth, his expression resembling one of a kid’s that was being reprehended by his mum while eating. Leo stuffed his mouth with the rest of the taco and wiped the sausage from his lips. Then he opened one of the beers “Beer?” he asked and held it for him. Kylian was still confused by accepted the beer anyway. He sat on one of the chairs and Leo gave a beer to Neymar as well.

“How’s your leg?” asked Leo.

Kylian was still drinking so he shrugged his shoulders as a response.

“What did the doctor say about Bayern?” questioned Neymar.

“They don’t know yet!” he admitted and stared at the floor.

“Are you flying to the Event tomorrow?”

“Yes, why?”

Leo and Neymar gave each other a knowing look, Ney leaned forward and took a paper magazine out of the bag, throwing it on the table. The sound made Kylian look up, his eyes falling on the magazine and reading the headline. Something about Champions League. He gazed at Neymar “what’s that?”

“Read it!” prompted Leo. Kylian stretched out his body to get the magazine and opened it to start reading, multiple columns about multiple teams.

“What am I supposed to be reading?”

“Page 12.”

Kylian flipped the pages, stopping on page 12 and started reading. It was an interview of a footballer’s wife that he had never even heard of.” He was wondering why he was wasting his time reading it until he reached the end and saw her name on the bottom. He raised his head at his teammates, half confused and half angry.

“There is no way she wrote this.”

“Bet she’s not proud of it, but she did.” Answered Leo.

“She hated these stuff!”

“She still does, she just doesn’t have a choice.”

Neymar cleared his throat as if he was making a shot at Kylian, but the latter ignored it “They have someone like her, writing this shit?”

“We had someone like her and didn’t use her pretty well either so I’m not sure we should be judging.” Mumbled Neymar. Kylian threw the magazine at him.

“Still don’t understand why you are here. I tried to convince her to stay. She’s barely answering my texts now. What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell us the whole truth finally! Why did she leave if the story about you two never broke out?”

Kylian thought about it, his mind going back to the last time he saw her. The shot that he lost.

PSG CAMPUS – GALTIER’S OFFICE – 1 MONTH EARLIER

Taylor felt weird walking down these hallways. She felt like she was going to be ambushed by journalist or worst Kylian before she had the chance to reach Galtier’s office but thankfully she made it there without a scar. Knocking on the door and entering slowly. Sitting in her spot, looking as awkward as she had on the first day she got here.

Galtier examined her like he was expecting her to go first but she didn’t even know where to start.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good.”

“What did the doctor’s say?”

“To take it more easy.”

“doesn’t sound like you.”

She snorted “yeah, it’s not.”

He smiled, leaned forward on his desk “I don’t know if you’ve spoken with Kylian—” she shook her head negatively immediately, Galtier nodded “in any case, there are rumors and please don’t try to refuse them, that’s not why you are here.” She lowered her head. She was a grown up, an adult, pretending this wasn’t her fault would be childish. “As you understand, stay or leave, there need to be some differences around here. And you need to prepare yourself for the worst”

“I already have.” She whispered, her eyes finally meeting Galtier’s, then in one breath she said the brutal truth before he could “I can’t stay.” Galtier was taken aback by her decision, he was scared by how easily and quickly she made it. She must have noticed the terror in his eyes because she was quick to continue “it’s a conscious decision. I pride myself for being fair, I have to be fair with myself as much as I am with the others. What happened…” her voice trailed off, breaking because she could see him in her mind, smiling, holding her, caring for her “it was wrong.” But why did it feel so right? Why did apologizing for it felt like lying? She cleared her throat and continued “I’d love to say that I can pretend it never happened, but I won’t be able to…”

“Ms. Wilock—”

“I don’t think I belong in this world anymore. I don’t think I can keep my mouth shut when I see the things that are happening and writing…” she smiled “I miss it.”

“Looks to me like you are running away.”

“maybe.” She mumbled, staring at her fingers, scratching her nails. “But we both know the backlash, if Ann runs with the story, is going to be insufferable. I’m never going to be respected, always under the shadow of a man, Kylian and…” she paused “you. All me success will go to you, meanwhile I’ll have to deal with every sexist comment on the dictionary. And normally I wouldn’t mind, I’m tough but… half of it will be true and it’s killing me. It’s killing me that I gave them exactly what they wanted.”

Galtier listened to everything she was saying, carefully, he almost understood her. It’s only that if he had an opportunity like hers, to make the amount of money that she was making here but perhaps that was the difference between the two. So he let her go as quickly as she came. She exited his office, head held high but eyes burning with the need to cry and her body asking to fall apart. There was something about making rush decisions like that, like pulling off a band aid to open wound, doctors always said that was the right way, right? In any case she was used to do doing it like that, losing a career from one day to another, losing people she loved because she was unable to love them, because she was scared.

“I wouldn’t know…I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. Don’t think I’d even recognize the feeling if I did.” Her fingers slipped into his, he held them, stroking them gently and looking down at her as they sat cross-legged on his floor, then he smiled.

“Not even Mason?”

She snorted, slapping his hand “even that was a teenage crush. Nothing more. I’m telling you, it has never happened to me, I’m not built that way.” She shrugged her shoulders “maybe it’s because I know first hand everything has an expiration date. It’s hard to be as romantic when you’ve felt that.”

He interlocked his fingers with her as they sat cross-legged on his floor, candles keeping the atmosphere calm for both of them “it’s a messy feeling” he said in a low tone “one day it drives you mad. The other it’s peace.” He smiled, gazing over her hands, so tiny and yet able to keep him still for as long as they wanted “It gets you angry, impatient, miserable and at the same time calm, proud, loved.” He brought her fingers up to his lips, leaving light kisses on them “La petite mort” he whispered in her hands. She enjoyed the feeling of his warm breath washing over her skin. It’s the first time she didn’t mind him speaking French, like language barrier between the two was broken.

“What does that mean?” she asked, waiting for him to look her in the eyes.

He continued massaging her hands, a smile coming up to his lips, a teasing smile. “Small death. Its an expression. The French use it to describe the brief loss or weakening of consciousness” he looked in her eyes, with that dirty look combined with care “otherwise known as the feeling of post orgasm as likened to death, for us French people.” Even his words had an affect on her, the way that he said them, how easily he spoke about it. She slid closer to him, blushing and smiling.

“Is that what love is to you?”

“I think it’s fair to say it weakens your consciousness. Has you dying and awakening repeatedly.”

“How did you say it?” she bit on her bottom lip.

He pushed her hair behind her ear, his finger enjoying the contact with her skin, the energy that vibrated between them and he leaned in, his lips barely touching hers “la petite mort” he said, his bottom lip hooking on her upper and dragging her closer to him until all her strengths crumbled and she dropped herself in him to chase her small death for the night.

And she wished she could chase it again but all she was chasing now was the exit, leaving the campus before he could see her, before she could lay her eyes on him because she worried that if she did all she’d chase would be him and a life made of sugar.

Kylian was training when Neymar ran to tell him that Taylor was upstairs, meeting with Galtier. Considering that all his texts went answered from the night before he ran upstairs. There was feeling of Déjà vu. Just one month ago he was running up to her and Galtier to yell, to tell her how much he hated her boss and now he was running to stop her because he couldn’t stand to the thought that he’d be the reason of her losing something she loved so much for the second time. When he got to Galtier’s office it was empty. His assistant was the bearer of bad news, Taylor had already left and she wouldn’t be coming back.

“Where are you going? We have three hours left!” Yelled Neymar but Kylian didn’t respond. Suddenly he heard a tougher voice, cold and brutal.

“Seven!” He stopped on his tracks, Galtier was standing in front of him. “I don’t suppose you are going anywhere else but training” he said, but it was more of an order “this fiasco ends here. If you wanna be anywhere else, you get there when you are done with your schedule. This is not high school football.”

Kylian gulped but he knew if she was here, she’d tell him the same thing. So, he obeyed and he continued with his training until the sun was down. While on the locker room, Verratti approached him hesitantly, sitting next to him while he was tying his shoes. He gave him a card, he took it, examining it. The name of Annette Monet, along with her details.

“You can give it to taylor if she wants to talk to her. Tell her I’m sorry if you see her.”

Kylian threw the card on his bag. “Why would I see her?”

“You were much closer than I was with her.”

“What did Annette tell you?”

“She hasn’t told me anything. It was me that did most of the talking but I didn’t think…”

“I told you not to get a journalist involved Marco!”

“She was a friend.”

“Obviously not.” He tied the knot on his shoe tighter and got up.

How did he find himself in her apartment? Knocking on her door to be let in? He’s been asking himself the same question ever since that night. One minute he was driving and the other he was standing in front of Charlie, same look in his eyes as the day before. Charlie was smoking a cigarette, he made note of it because he thought it was weird for him to be smoking in his condition. Then he heard Taylor walking closer to the door “I told you to lit that thing off! For crying out loud dad—” she stopped in her steps when she saw Kylian. She was holding cash in her hand, probably expecting the delivery man instead. They looked at each other, silent, until her father took the initiative to invite Kylian in and excused himself seconds later, leaving them alone.

Kylian looked around the room, her suitcases on the floor, a pile of clothes on the desk. Her room looked as messy as ever but it was a different kind of messy, it didn’t feel as warm as he remembered it to.

“What are you doing?” he asked almost disappointed.

She didn’t reply, instead she gazed away from him. Looking at some sort of comfort in her walls, considering digging a hole so she could sneak out of this situation quicker. He made a step forward, confident. “Why?” he asked and it made have been one word but it mirrored a thousand questions that she didn’t have a clear answer to.

“There’s no use talking about it Kylian, what’s done is done.”

“We can stop her from putting out the article—”

”no we can’t and what’s worse is that we can’t stop ourselves! We can delay her, we can put a pause to this, we can pretend we are not driving towards a cliff but eventually we’ll pay the price.”

“Even if it breaks, I can protect you. I’ll take the heat–”

“no you won’t!” she mumbled, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead.

“Merde—you think I’d let you alone in this–?”

“I have no doubt that you’ll do your best not to Kylian but you’re a man. No one’s gonna care about you fucking the new assistant. If anything, you’ll be praised for it! Me? I’ll always be the slut, my abilities will always be compared to this, poisoned by this. They don’t even know about this so far and your interview already has them hating on me—”

“That interview was illegal!”

“Does it really matter what it was?” She topped his voice. Kylian held back from answering. Maybe because he knew it didn’t make any difference. He really had said those things about her, what’s worse is that he really believed them when he said them. “Honestly between you and me, I don’t know if you ever trusted me as a coach at all! Don’t—” she raised her hand to stop him “you don’t have to say anything. It doesn’t matter, just please understand, that this is for the best.”

“You’re letting go of your dream for a stupid rumor—”

“where’s the fucking dream Kylian? Because this shit feels like a nightmare since day one. Me, trying to be someone I’m not. Chasing a vision, I had when I was a kid and realizing it comes with things I could never stand behind. I value respecting myself and choices more than the zeros on the paycheck.”

“What about me, then?” he asked, his voice firmer. “What about Ney? The rest of them? Is that what all of this was to you? Zeros on a paycheck?”

“Obviously not—”

“Then why are you acting like you’re just leaving a job?”

“So, I won’t break apart!” she yelled, her voice breaking, trembling. She hid her face immediately after she said it. Covering her eyes. “You think this easy? Cause it’s not.” She whispered in her palms and waited to hear the door opening and closing but instead she felt him coming closer, she felt his hands on her shoulders. His head leaning closer.

“This is my fault—”

“Its not about that!” she said, looking up. Having him this close was making her stomach ache. “We are both adults. All of this has been a series of choices that I made for myself. My choice when I gave in to you knowing there’d be consequences, my choice to keep it a secret, not putting an end to it and this… this is my choice too. I’m not letting anyone else make it for me, not Ann, not Galtier, not the world and not you. It’s just me facing the music–” she held his face in her hands, her thumb stroking his eyebrow “and I don’t blame you for it either. I knew what I was doing.” She leaned closer, her eyes began to stink “I wanted it. In a way, this is me protecting it.”

“It’s the wrong choice.”

“Maybe.” It came out so soft “But at least it’s mine.” She smiled and a second later she dived in his hold while he held her against his chest, his face hidden in her hair. Her face was molded on his shoulders, sinking in his perfume, his skin, his everything. He squeezed her in his arms, making a memory of what it felt like to have her there. “Do me a favor.” Her voice came out muffled from his shoulders.

“What?”

“Take a look at your leg before it’s too late.”

He laughed, his body vibrating. She tilted her head and kissed his cheek, her lips lingering on his cheekbone, he moved slowly, his head turning so he’d be kissing her lips instead. A slow kiss, their lips hooking on each other’s and dragging each other out until he molded his completely in hers.

“I’ll stop the article.” He whispered

“How?”

“I’ll find a way.” He said and he was confident. She kissed his cheek again and pulled away because any longer and they wouldn’t be able to control themselves.

TAYLORS’S HOUSE / LONDON – 1 MONTH LATER

Taylor threw her bags on the couch and walked over to the kitchen, getting a beer from the fridge. She started drinking when she heard tiny steps coming down the stairway, she walked back in the living room to meet her sister, who rushed to her arms.

“Hey little one!” she laughed, accepting the hug. “Ready for bed?”

“Can you convince mama to watch a little TV?” she pouted

“Hmm, I don’t think so. I think it’s time to sleep.”

“That’s right, thank you Taylor!” said Beth as she came down the stairs. Taylor smiled when she saw her and knelt down in front of Lily, stroking her long black curls.

“How about you run upstairs and I read you a bedtime story?”

“Will it be about football?”

She laughed “I was thinking the little mermaid.”

Lily nodded with a smile and ran up the stairs. Taylor turned to Beth, the smile fading from her face. “How’s dad?”

“Same as yesterday but he still got that fucking cigarette in his hand.”

Taylor went to find her father. He was in his office, a cigarette in one hand and a pen in the other, he was writing, always writing she thought as she approached him. He lit it off when he saw her by pressing it on the ashtray and he smiled at her, opening his mouth to speak but it was interrupted by coughing.

“She’s right for being mad at you, you know?”

“I know.” He sighed “but it’s only the second one, I promise.”

She noticed he had his inhaler laid on the table, next to the papers. He got up “Is lily in bed?”

“Yes.” She said but she was still looking at the inhaler. Terrifying how much a person could be depended on material things after all. “Did you speak with the doctor?” she crossed her arms to her chest, biting her cheek.

“Same old. Same old.” He stroked his daughter’s face. “Let’s not talk about it.” He kissed her temple and walked away. That’s when her phone began to buzz in her pocket, she took it out, looking at the caller id, comfort washing over her as she the name and picked it up.

“How’s my terrifyingly tall best friend doing?”

His laugh echoed on her ear. “I’m good. Missed ya. Are you coming tomorrow?” She puffed her cheeks, having completely forgotten about the invitation. “I’ll take that as a yes because you don’t really have a choice.”

“Jude, it’s not the best of time and I’m exhausted.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t make me call Trish and have her dragging you at the party—”

“You wouldn’t, you’re terrified of her.”

“That’s not true.” He said but his tone was betraying him. Taylor laughed. “Doesn’t matter, as long as you come. Maze will be here, Saka, Rashford—I heard beckham might make an appearance!”

“Now you’re just straight up lying!”

“Maybe but it’s what I’ll tell Trish and you know she’ll do anything in her power for you to come if she hears Beckham will be there.”

“You play dirty!”

“I play smart, love.”

She snorted. Looking behind her at Beth and her father leading Lily to her bedroom. “Will any other teams be there?” she heard him chuckling from the other side of the phone “Don’t be a smug!”

“it’s a party TJ! I don’t have the full list. Just come, have a drink. I wanna introduce you to a few people. Please for me. Do it for breaking my heart as a kid. It’s your last chance to see me before I head back to Germany”

“Fine. Ok. But I’m leaving early.”

“Sounds good to me darling.”

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Some days he’d catch himself thinking about her, he’d hear a whistle and turn around expecting her to be there, moving her finger at him. He’d have a bad game and expect her to turn up in the locker room, yelling and making her sarcastic comments. Her exit was noticed by everyone, for most on the field but for Kylian, he’d feel it at home too. His lonely, big and cold home with the million-dollar view and the lifeless interior. He tried to replace her by flirting, going out, focusing on getting better and for a short time he thought he made it. During games he wouldn’t think about her so much, he’d play like he used to, her perfume fading from her memory until he felt the pain in his thigh midgame. It was brutal. He had to sit down, cursing himself while the medics gathered around him. He could hear her so clearly on his mind, the “I told you so” slipping from her lips.

And now while he was laying on his bed, reading her name on a magazine, thinking about the talent that was being wasted, he wished she was there, so he could tell her to run. Instead, she was stuck back in her own life, in her family home, tucking in her sister, working in an office in the morning and seeing her dad slowly fading. Different hallways, different lives. She laid on her couch, tv on, lights dim and she was writing on her computer, an article about Champions League and the teams that would be playing against each other next week. One of them of course was PSG and then she had to write his name and suddenly her fingers froze on the keyboard and she looked at it. Names, she thought, they have so much power over people.

NATIONAL EURO TEAMS EVENT – NIGHT

“This dress is too fucking tight” said taylor, dragging it so it wouldn’t lift too high.

“No…” mumbled Trish “that’s just you.”

Taylor smacked her as the two of them walked in the after party and Trish would have reacted if she wasn’t scanning the place for all the hot footballers she could get laid with. So many familiar faces and yet there was one missing “do you see beckham anywhere?”

“Jesus Trish, he is not coming. Bellingham lied to you—”

“No, he didn’t. I know when he lies, he knows I know, I can smell it on him and he’s too intimidated to lie.”

Taylor looked at her friend with worry, wondered how she always got her way with men so easily. Suddenly she felt someone coming and throwing his arm around her, and she would have jump if she didn’t recognize the cologne. She turned her head up, a smile Jude Bellingham pulling her closer to him.

“Jude, I can’t breathe—”

“Ah! I’m so happy you came!”

“Where is he Jude?” Asked Trish, interrupting their sweet moment. Jude looked up at her, smirking.

“Brought your bulldog with you, I see!” he smiled. “He’s not here yet.”

Trish walked closer to him, perhaps too close and Taylor watched them. She could feel the energy between the two, something between hate, fear and love, it was such a familiar sensation. “If he doesn’t show up, I’m gonna blame you and you are going to find that unpleasant.” She poked his chest and backed away, turning around–

“I’ve got to tell you something, you’re kinda hot when you’re like this.”

She flipped her hair, gave him a smirk “I’m always like this.”

Taylor couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Jude checking Trish out as she walked away, specifically focused on her curves, biting his tongue. “EW!” She exclaimed before she could stop herself. Jude returned his attention to her smiling and interlocked his arms with hers, “Come on, I need you to meet people.”

“What people?”

She wished she hadn’t asked because she heard so many names that night, her mind overloading with information. Until she reached the main target for the night. Sarina Wiegman, head coach of the national team of England. Jude took the initiative to introduce them while taylor was struggling to keep her cool. It was midway that she realized Jude was basically promoting her like she was a multitasking phone. She barely got the chance to speak while Jude was making a list of her entire career, sometimes exaggerating. Sarina seemed to be enjoying it, eager to know about her time in France, working with Coach Galtier.

“We are recruiting new people to follow us in Australia for the world cup. I’ll certainly keep you in mind young lady.” She said with a smile, before excusing herself. Taylor looked at Bellingham, with her mouth wide open. Jude was laughing at her reaction, feeling proud of his childhood friend.

“Did she really just say that?”

“Yeah, I think she did—”

Taylor had thrown herself on him before he could finish the sentence and he picked her up, spinning her around while they both laughed. When he let her down, she continued jumping out of excitement, only stopping when her eyes caught a sight of very familiar eyes, eyes that she hadn’t seen in years.

“Well, if it isn’t the first girl that left me on read!” He joked, a glass of champagne in one hand while the other was held out for her to shake.

“Mace…” she said in a sweet whisper, full of adoration and as soon as she gave him her hand, he pulled her in a hug. It was like she was on a time machine, surrounded by her childhood friends, before it all went to shit, a future full of possibilities. She pulled back to look at his face, smiling.

“Thank god you got rid of the bangs.”

He let out a belly laugh while Jude came round him and settled his arm around his neck “that’s what I keep telling him.”

“God this is so weird.” She mumbled “watching you two together when you both belong in different parts of my life.”

“Judy has told me all about you breaking his heart for Carbonara.”

“Carbonara is always worth it—wait a minute, did you just say Judy?”

Bellingham rolled his eyes “swear to god man—” Mason winked and squeezed Jude’s side as a joke. Jude jumped, stepping away from him immediately. “Stop doing that.” He whined. Taylor laughed at his reaction.

“You two fighting again?” Rushford stood behind Taylor, giving her a quick look before smiling “And in front of the lady?”

Taylor smiled when she saw him, putting her hand out immediately “I’m Taylor. It’s very nice to meet you, Marcus.”

“Oh? I think I just met your friend.” He shook her hand.

“Oh gosh is she drunk already?”

“I think she was looking for David beckham so possibly yes.” Taylor hid her face in her hands, groaning. “She’s with Saka now, though.”

“What’s she doing with him?” Jude asked, stepping forward and walking in between the crowd to get to Saka, Rushford followed behind them. Mason put his arm around Taylor and they started following behind the other two.

“So, is this like a European gathering for teams?”

“It’s supposed to be an unofficial celebration for the beginning of EURO 2024” He explained, talking in her ear so she’d hear better.

“Don’t tell me Ronaldo is coming.” She laughed

“Yeah, he’ll be here, right after Beckham.”

Taylor let out a loud laughter, elbowing her ex boyfriend. She looked forward, trying to find the rest of the group that had left them behind when she saw his silhouette in between all the others.

Expensive Dior suit. Golden watch on his wrist, same hand that he was holding his drink. She didn’t mean to but she held Mason’s hand, maybe because she needed to hold something in order not to run to him.

“Kylian.” She whispered and their eyes met in the darkness, the invisible string between the two, pulling them closer again.

Did he think about going to find her the minute he landed in London? Of course, he did and he probably would if it wasn’t for his management rushing him to get changed and got to event. He didn’t wanna be there, he wasn’t in the mood. His leg still hurt and most of these people, he didn’t even like but he had to pretend to be all happy and giggling. He tried to stay with his teammates from France for most of the night but people kept interrupting. He had his hand on his pocket for most of the night, ready to call her, see how she was doing. While he was in deep conversation with Giroud when he caught a glimpse of Mason Mount. He followed him with his eyes until he saw him stopping behind someone that looked like Bellingham. He tried seeing who was behind Jude but whoever it was, was short. Then his heart dropped, a woman’s figure that took him only 5 seconds to process was Taylor, being pulled into Mason’s arms. His froze right where he was, he watched, his eyes examining her every movement while she spoke with the two men she knew from childhood. Men that knew her better than he ever would probably.

“Kylian, are you ok?” Asked Giroud. Kylian looked at him quickly, nodding.

“Yes, I’ll be back right away.”

He excused himself, pushing the crowd so he’d get closer to her. Stopped when he was a few steps away from her and he saw her gripping on Mason’s arm, while her eyes locked with his.

Mason broke the ice by greeting Kylian like they were long lost friends, he even tried to make conversation with him but if you asked either Taylor or Kylian what he was saying, neither of them would be able to answer. They were to occupied listening to each other’s thoughts.

“Hey Mase. Why don’t you find Jude, I’ll come find you in five.”

Mason nodded and walked past Kylian, putting him in the shoulder as he left. Taylor then stepped closer to Kylian, motioned with her head and signaled him to follow her outside. He swallowed his entire drink in one ago and he followed.

Maybe if it wasn’t for Kylian she would have noticed her phone was out of battery again. Maybe if it wasn’t for Kylian she would have left earlier or Trish would find her quicker. Maybe she’d know that Beth was calling her repeatedly.

What do you mean in 3 chapters I’m gonna have to say goodbye to all of them????? What do you mean that this story is ending???? HOW THE FUCK DID A POSSIBLE ONE SHOT TURN TO 180 PAGES AND 90.000+ WORDS???? WHAT IN THE HELL???? WHY AM I CRYING??????? I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! Adore you to the moon and back and thank you for always commenting please please never stop interacting it’s the only thing that keeps this story going and i do not take it for granted. I can see that the hype is over and most of the readers are gone but the few that are still here please as always leave a comment to keep the fire going. Feedback is the best gift in the world. Now…. What do you think beth needs Taylor for? How did Kylian stop Ann??? Is Taylor gonna find her place in the national team and move to Australia???? SO MANY QUESTIONS!!! LEAVE YOUR ANSWERS 👀👀👀