AUTHOR'S NOTE: HEYY! Have I learned Portuguese yet? Nope! Did Celine-E teach me Spanish yet? Double Nope! So you're going to have to correct me if my translations are wrong! You can hit me in the head with a football if I say something stupid like "Andres Iniesta should model for a hair salon instead of playing football," or anything else like that because, unfortunately for you Andres, you have to have hair to model for a hair salon.
THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE VOTES AND COMMENTS!! HUGS FOR ALL OF YOU!
Picking up my phone, I looked at the time: 8:30 AM. I had been awake since 7:00 AM, but for the past hour and a half, I had been laying in my bed, staring at the various walls in my room. I was just too lazy to get up; I have 15 minutes before I have to actually get up, shower, and get ready for practice. Listening to the silence, I realized Arianna was probably still sleeping. She came home from the dinner pretty late last night. She said she enjoyed it but I could tell that something was wrong. I know she'll tell me if it's something big, she always does.
Pulling my covers off of me and heading to my bathroom, I decide that it's finally time to get ready for practice. Once I had styled my hair to perfection, I grabbed my things and went downstairs. I started to make toast as I turned on the TV and looked for a football game to watch. Biting my toast, I watched highlights from last night's Arsenal game.
I know Arianna has a late practice today, so I won't bother waking her up. She could use some more sleep. When I parked my car in the Bernabéu's parking lot, I could see almost everyone was already here. Making my way to the locker rooms, I could hear Sergio and Pepe laughing from down the hallway. Opening the door, I entered the locker room, "hey Cristiano!"
"Hey," I replied to Sergio who was putting on his shirt.
"So, how was your time with Arianna yesterday?" Marcelo asked, "Didn't you say there wasn't any practice yesterday? So, she didn't go to Barcelona right?"
"No, she didn't go to Barcelona, but who's to stop Barcelona from coming here?" I said as I made my way to my locker. "They took her shopping yesterday, and then she had to go to a team dinner to meet the WAGs. I didn't get to spend too much time with her; but she seemed happy."
He nodded, glancing behind me he said, "it's alright man, maybe next weekend?" I didn't say anything as I changed into my training clothes.
Getting my shirt from my locker, I replied, "I guess." As I was pulling on my shirt, I felt something, or someone, jump on my back. I stumbled, regaining my balance and said, "Sergio, have you lost weight?"
"No, I don't think so, why?" I hear him reply from behind me.
Tuning around to grab my shorts, I was shocked to see Sergio sitting on the bench, putting on his socks. When I looked over my shoulder to see who was on my back, I couldn't form words. I stared at the chocolate eyes that stared back.
"Hi," she said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the locker room.
"Arianna!! You're here! You're not in Barcelona!" I replied once I realized that I wasn't hallucinating.
"Yup," she said, getting off of my back. I picked her up and spun her around.
"I can't believe you're here! How did you get here! Don't you have practice? You're going to be in trouble! I don't care! You're here!" I say, going back and forth between concern and joy.
"Good to see you too, even though I saw you yesterday," she smiles, telling me.
"Are you staying today? I thought you had practice today? Why didn't you tell me! I could have just brought you with me," I asked.
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Who Are You? The Football Manager.Fanfiction
She stepped in front of me and looked at me with hatred filled electric blue eyes and asked, "who do you think you are anyway?" Her voice echoed in the stadium and silence followed, filling the air of the chilly evening as I stared at her shocked; I...