𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗢𝗢𝗥 𝗦𝗪𝗨𝗡𝗚 open with a creak as Isa hurried Amara into the office, her hand firmly pressed against the younger girl's back, urging her to move faster. Isa's sharp heels clicked against the polished floor, the sound echoing off the walls.

"Someone's in a hurry," Mara muttered under her breath, quickening her pace to keep up with her manager's long strides. She still hadn't fully processed the cryptic phone call that had yanked her out of her afternoon plans; a hurried 'I need to see you in the office. Now.'

 Isa hadn't even given her a chance to ask why before abruptly hanging up. The vagueness of it all left her full of unease.

"So, I've called up a few people," Isabella stared pointedly at the younger girl, typing something in her computer while doing so. "I made a deal with this footballer. You're going to date for a while, see how things go, then break up."

Amara was stunned, to say the least. She blinked, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "What?" The words barely left her lips, stunned disbelief thick in her voice.

Isa sighed, as if annoyed at having to explain further. "It's publicity, Amara. It'll boost your image and his. A mutually beneficial arrangement." She crossed her arms, her expression not changing in the slightest bit, as though this were the most natural thing in the world.

"A footballer? Out of all people?" 

Isa raised an eyebrow at her, the look in her eyes was all it took to shut Amara up. "Yes, Mar. A footballer," She let out a sigh, pointing her long index finger at her. "And you, will not be complaining because you're twenty two, not fourteen."

"Can you at least tell me his name? Who he is?" Amara questioned, trying to make the best out of this situation. She really was hoping it wasn't a Real Madrid player. Or worse, an Atletico Madrid player. Isa wouldn't hate her enough for this, would she?

"Joao Felix."

Amara froze out of instinct, the name not ringing any bells in her ears. She'd certainly heard it before, it was awfully familiar to her. 

"He's Portuguese, plays for Chelsea in the Premier League. Previous Barcelona player on loan, was with Atletico Madrid before that." There it was. Her worst nightmare. 

Isabella sighed, taking off the glasses she was wearing and putting Mara's hands in hers. "Listen, I know this is tough for you, especially after Elio. But you have to try, Mar. This is for you. I promise it's get a fourth month deal. Then you're out."

"I...No. I can't." 

Isa was taken back by that answer, her soft facade vanishing completely. "You arsehole," Her British accent came out, which meant that Mara was done for. "You're accepting this deal, I don't care. Whine all you want, but I worked my arse for this and you won't refuse."

"Well, my dear Isabella. I can't date someone without my consent. That's....harassment."

"Amara."

"Can I at least think about it? Give me two days max." Amara said, nervously glancing at Isa. She did not want to do this

Isabella's expression hardened, her gaze narrowing into something colder, sharper. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, as if weighing the decision. 

The silence stretched for a moment, thick with unspoken words. Amara could feel her pulse racing, her stomach twisted in knots. This was insane. There was no way this was happening.

"Two days," Isa repeated, her voice deceptively calm, though there was an edge to it. "That's all you're getting. You know how this works, Amara. We don't have time for decision. You either take the deal, or you don't. But this isn't a negotiation."

Amara nodded, swallowing hard. She had to think. She couldn't just jump into this blindly, no matter how much Isa was pushing her. She needed space, time to process.

"Fine," Amara said quietly, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her. "Two days. I'll figure it out."

Isa stood up from her desk, adjusting her blazer with one hand as she glanced at Amara one last time. "Good. I'll be expecting an answer. And don't waste my time, Mar, I worked hard for this."

The way she said it sent a chill down Amara's spine. It wasn't a threat, but it was clear that Isa wasn't someone to be played with. If she made this deal happen, there would be no backing out.

As Amara turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of herself in the full length mirror by the office door, her reflection staring back at her, wide eyed and disoriented. 

Was she really going to go through with this? Pretend to date a footballer for publicity?

The idea seemed absurd, but somehow, it didn't feel like she had a choice.