The Golden Boy and The Girl Next Door (A Kylian Mbappé Fanfiction)

Chapter Two

Over an hour later

"No amount of luck can help fix this..." she muttered to herself whilst scrubbing away at the purple paint spurted all over the floor. The stupid paint wouldn't come off! Sapphie straightened until she was sitting on her hunches and flung her brush onto the floor. Using her forearm, she wiped the sweat from her brow and temples. By the time she'd finished cleaning the toilets, her arms were aching and she was sweaty.

What was he thinking using paint for his prank? Couldn't water have sufficed?

At least she'd already prepared the gear for tomorrow's training. That meant sorting through over a hundred pieces of gear and equipment within half an hour.

The hardest part of this job, besides running around and doing stuff that wasn't part of her job description, was this. Having to clean up after people who didn't care one bit how the one cleaning up after them felt.

Did these guys seriously believe machines cleaned up after them? She thought. But then her face relaxed when she thought of Mr Charbonneau. The fifty something year old janitor who usually cleaned these parts of the building. If her body ached from swatting in awkward positions for an hour, she can only imagine what it was like for the old man. Had she not been late to work today, he'd have been the one kneeling where she was. A vivid image of Mr Charbonneau, with his friendly smile, bent over this mess and scrubbing away with his gnarled and knobbly hands.

"Kylian? You're so lucky you've never actually met me. Or that you're nowhere near me right now," she scrubbed with more vigour, "because I would wring your neck into a toothpick."

Seeing that her efforts had only fixed so much. Sapphie's shoulders slumped with a resigned sigh. She got up and walked to her cleaning cart. She pulled out a couple more detergent bottles and sprayed the chemicals onto the paint stains. Now all she had to do was wait for them to do their job. She set up her wet floor sign before donning a face mask and collecting all the soiled gear from the game the team played the previous night and took them down to the dry-cleaning room in the basement.

After loading the washing machines, she came back to give the paint another go. Luckily, her trick worked well making her wonder why she hadn't started with that instead. Just as she was finishing up with, Pierre's lanky frame suddenly filled the changing room's doorway.

"Sapphira, good. You're still here. I need you to carry these to the pitch." He dumped a net filled of footballs and cones at his feet, "Coach needs them as soon as yesterday. Make sure you to check that not a single one is missing."

Sapphira froze for a moment. She didn't know how to respond. Part of her wanted to protest and suggest he ask someone else. Because at this rate, if he kept on throwing surprises her way, she'd never get the things on her to do list for the day done. She knew if she stepped foot on that pitch, the coach will keep her there for another hour.

Alas, over a year of working with Pierre, had taught her the art of holding her tongue, and holding it well.

Come on Sapphie, you've got to be used to this by now. Surprises are now your forte.

"What are you waiting for? Now!" He clapped.

"Ouí, yes." Ungracefully, she rushed onto her feet, pulled off her gloves and accepted the clip board he was holding out to her.

She made it to the pitch with the net slung over one shoulder and the clip board tucked securely in her armpit. The team was busy practicing their dribbling and scoring, except for a few close by players, no one really paid her any mind as she approached the coach and quickly began to unpack everything.