New Romantics | Mbappé

bored & young & dumb

Ah Paris, the city of lights and love or whatever, she couldn’t remember what the quote was, she was just happy to be here. She reached her new apartment and met with her landlord to give her the keys. She basically dropped her stuff on the floor when he left and sprinted out of there, went to find herself a taxi to drive her on the PSG offices. No surprise, she was ready 10 minutes when she got there but in her defense it wasn’t personal, she just couldn’t ever be there on time. One of the things Trish hated about her. Julie, the woman that had sent her the email was waiting for her outside. It was when she got out of the car that she realized, this wasn’t just a building with the PSG offices, it was the freaking training center. She swallowed her nerves and followed Julie at the top of the building, where Galtier’s office was located.

It was a corner office with Large glass walls that allowed him and anyone else to look at the field below. A gasp escaped her lips when Julie let her in, informing her that Galtier would be with her in just a few minutes. She nodded, unable to speak and walked towards the glass walls. She looked below, recognizing a few of the figures, Neymar, Messi, Mbappe, Hakimi, Ekitike-

“Pretty view, isn’t it?”

Taylor spun around quickly, Galtier was standing by the door, dressed in his suit. She mentally cursed herself for choosing to go with a casual style. Maybe she should have worn a suit as well or something “DO you need anything? Water, coffee?”

“No no” she shook her head, walking closer “Je suis bien” she smiled, hoping that she had said it right and the fact that he didn’t laugh at her, made her feel better. He motioned his hand towards the seat for her to sit down while he made his way around his desk, to sit on his comfortable chair. Avoiding eye contact at any cost, she sat down, on the edge of the chair, shifting a little. She was nervous, of course she was. She kept smiling awkwardly, trying to look cool but his eyes were very persistent, looking at her like he was about to interrogate her for a crime.
“You’re a woman.”

She laughed- no that was a mistake. She shouldn’t be laughing. She cleared her throat, recollecting herself, looking as serious as she could. She didn’t know what to answer to that, she kept expecting him to say something more but he didn’t so she replied with the first thing that came to mind “I think so” she joked.

He didn’t laugh.

Her smile faded away. She gulped. Silence. He kept staring, analyzing her. She hated it, it was like she was under a microscope. She pulled on her jacket, coving herself better, like she was naked underneath, suddenly self conscious.

“I didn’t expect that-“ she jumped when she spoke again, placing her hand on her chest. Her heartrate had gone increasingly fast. “You don’t write like a woman.”

She laughed again “Yeah I keep my smut stories for the players on another website-“ she bit her lip, remembering who she was speaking to. “I don’t actually- that was a joke. A bad one. I’m sorry- I’m a little nervous. I talk fast when I’m nervous, my mother says I could speak for hours without saying anything at all and make stupid jokes- you see it’s happening right now” she faked a cough, looking around “Is it hot in here? I think it’s hot. Is that water?” she reached for a glass on the table, picking it up and drinking it, Galtier leaned forward to stop her but she had already drank what was left of it-
“That was from the person that was here before.” He said. Taylor tried not to show her disgust and put it back down, keeping a poker face.
“Of course it was.” She said in a whisper.

“You can relax” he told her, almost smiling. “I researched you.” He added “the name Wilcock, it reminded me of something, I just couldn’t understand what. Then I remembered, you were on Chelsea Academy, under 16s. Promising star. 7 years ago?”
“8” she corrected. “it was 8 years ago.”
“You were really young” he reached for a folder on his desk, opening it. Taylor noticed her picture on there, it was her file from the academy. “I’m sorry for your accident, it was terrible.” All of a sudden, She wanted to leave. She held on the arms of the chair. He closed the file, leaving it back on the table. She wanted to grab it and run. “With your gift I don’t understand why you didn’t keep at it.”
She scoffed “I don’t understand. Is this a job interview or an interrogation?” she snapped. Galtier was taken aback by her response, raising his hands up to apologize.
“You’re right. It’s actually neither.”
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t like being proven wrong but you have wrote a lot about me on your website. Corrected me a lot of times.”
“Don’t take it personally.”
“I don’t. You made some points, I looked back at the games. There were things that I had missed.” He pointed at her “but you didn’t. I need that. I want you to watch the boys through out the next month, training and games. I want you to be our new assistant coach.” Her mouth opened in shock slowly. She was a journalist, she wasn’t a coach. She had let go of the game years ago, this couldn’t be a possible offering. “this is an offer-“ oh so it was an offering “I want to try this for a month. Meanwhile you can keep writing about us on your website, a special article, perhaps.” She could barely focus “You’ll be consultant for the next few games and we can test if this could actually work out.” She gazed around the room, suspiciously. She got up, rubbing her face, looking closely at the library, looking for a camera.