𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 - 𝐍𝐞𝐲𝐦𝐚𝐫 𝐉𝐫

chapter six

"blaugrana al vent, un crit valent, tenim un nom el sap tothom, barça, barça, baaarça!" chants all around the stadium filled my ears, in all honesty, i had no clue what these chants meant, but my dad and brothers seemed pretty into it.

they'd been going on throughout the entire first half of the match and now it was half time, and they still hadn't stopped.

when we'd come into the stadium, we'd had to walk past the toilets to get to our seats, and the smell of them alone made me want to throw up, this had ultimately been the reason i had refused to use them at the break.

my dad and my brothers had all gone to the toilets and to get drinks but i had stayed in our seats, guarding all of their belongings. i don't know how long half time lasts but it seemed to have been about ten minutes when a man in a black suit approached me.

"hello?" i noticed his stare lingering on me, "can i help you?"

"maybe," he tilted his head to the side, almost as if he were trying to get a better look at me, "hold on a moment."

he pulled out his phone and started scrolling through something, as he did i looked up towards where the toilets were, feeling instantly relieved when i noticed my dad and my brothers coming over.

"can i help you, mate?" my dad frowned at the man, "is he bothering you mads?"

the man shook his head, "jones's?"

i looked up at my dad, waiting for him to respond for us, "yes pal. what's it to you?"

"come with me please." the man instructed us and my dad pulled me into his side, "there's been a slight change to your seats."

"if you're having us on," my dad started, "i will bash your fucking head in."

"sir." the man shook his head again, "i can assure you that i'm not having you on. i've just been told to bring you to your new seats."

"right. and why have we suddenly had a change in seats?" max chimed in, "it's half time, that doesn't just happen this late into a game."

the man sighed, saying a few spanish words into his headpiece before reaching into his pocket and handing me a phone. we all stared down at the phone, completely confused as to why he'd given it to me.

within a few moments the phone started to ring, and out of instinct i picked it up and placed it to my ear, "hello?"

"madelyn." leo sang from the other side of the phone, "i got you better seats!"

"leo," i rolled my eyes at my brothers, "you made us think we were getting kicked out or something."

"right, okay." he was talking to someone on his side of the phone, rather than to me, "yes, yes, sorry."

"leo?" i called his name out.

"okay, i've got to go. sergio, he's the guy in the suit, he's gonna bring you and your family down, my wife's gonna be in the box, she knows what you look like, so she'll look out for you." he told me.

"okay, thanks, see you then." i nodded, hanging up the phone and handing it back to sergio. "leo's apparently got us seats in some box."

"are you joking?" charlie grabbed my shoulders, "madelyn, i love you!"

"bit confused here darling." my dad frowned, "who's leo?"

"dad." max grinned, "she's talking about leo messi!"

"fuck of max." dad shook his head, "you're not funny."

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

the 'box' wasn't really a physical box like i had expected it to be. it was basically just a few rows of seats closer down to the pitch and a few rows above where the players were sat on the bench.

"madelyn, right?" a woman with long brown hair approached us as we started to sit down. i nodded at her, i was pretty sure that this was leo's wife. "im anto, leo's wife." she introduced herself.

"yeah, lovely to meet you."

"oh no," she stopped me from sitting down, "you're coming with me."

i stood from the seat and shrugged at my family, "okay."

"so," she motioned for me to sit down, "leo met you on instagram?"

"yeah." i laughed, "pretty weird when you say it out loud."