The Attack On Madrid » Real Madrid

Prologue

"Damn he's fast." My photographer to my left marvelled as his shutter clicked, following the movements of Christiano Ronaldo as he ran up field.

  The fans roared in the stands behind me when Ronaldo made a few moves, easily slicing past a midfielder.

I lifted my state of the art camera up to my eyes, capturing Ronaldo's swift movements along with the photographer next to me.

I could hear the shutters of the other cameras squished in beside me, it was music to my ears. But I couldn't help but frown when the ball sunk into the net.

Roars of the crowd drowned out whatever the photographer next to me said. I swore under my breath; I wasn't a fan of Real Madrid.

A few minutes later, the halftime whistle blew and I let my camera fall over my chest. I wasn't in the mood to take halftime photos today.

"Henry!" A voice called to me.

I turned around to see my partner, Jace, wave at me as he ran to where I was standing.

"I got some good shots." He said when he reached me.

I just shrugged in response, and sighed.

"I didn't know my first day was going to be this easy." I said to him slightly bored.

"Easy?" Jace winced. "Trust me, this ain't as easy as pointing and shooting."

The breeze ruffled my jacket and ran through my brown hair. I immediately reached up and ran my fingers through it.

Jace looked at me skeptically.

"Let's grab something to eat before the second half starts." Jace smiled. "Lemme take a look at your photos, I want to see if your as good as they say you are."

I had always wanted to be a sports photographer. I loved football, a little too much as my mom had said. Once I had made peace with not becoming a footballer, I still wanted part of the action. Sure, it wasn't glamorous but it payed the bills, and I loved doing it. So far at least.
   I had worked previously for ESPN in the states, moving around occasionally and covering the MLS games. It wasn't hard work, in fact it was kind of easy.
   So I moved. La Liga was my home now. Madrid was a fascinating city. It was breathtaking and the atmosphere was too. Some parts were a bit grungy and sketchy but what city isn't?
  Here I met Jace. The handsome Spaniard that took me under his wing in a way. He was older then me and more experienced, and he chose me to be his partner.
   This was our first week shooting together, as partners. He was more thrilled then I was, (I'm sure you can tell) but I was grateful for him being by my side. It was comforting in a way.

"Hey, these aren't bad, American." Jace commented going through some of my photos.

"Hmm, thanks." I said.

"Boy, you've had your head in the clouds all morning." Jace exclaimed. "What the hell is on your mind?"

I took my camera from Jace's hands.

"Nothing Jace." I replied.

"Ain't seen nothing bothering someone so much." Jace said.

"It's not your business." I grumbled.

"Never said it was." Jace looked at me for a hard long few seconds.

"Let's just go." I said, walking out to the edge of the field where I was before.

I knew that Jace wasn't prying, he was just concerned about me, but I was stubborn as always.

"Let's switch places kid." Jace suggested. "You take better photos then me anyways." He patted me on the back as we parted ways.