imbalance | trent alexander-arnold¹

thirteen.

when hatred hits

07/10/18

After a long day of training, Wynter found herself spread out on her bed scrolling through her social media as the rest of the day passed with natural time. That's how most of her days mapped out. If she wasn't at home, the french girl was either stationed at Melwood, Anfield or at an away stadium. I mean, she had nothing else to indulge herself in. The only people she could actually call her friends in the local area were her teammates but unlike herself, they had their own agendas to get to whenever they weren't playing the game of football.

Even though Wynter held a timid personality towards new people, it didn't necessarily mean that she didn't make the effort to interact with others. In fact, she had in the last few weeks and yet, they all presented themselves in the ways she couldn't find herself to levitate towards.

Everyone seemed to only be interested in her riches and her strong football connections though no one ever stripped her of her football player card and wanted to understand what really made Wynter, well, Wynter. The sad fact that Wynter hadn't found a friend in Liverpool made her gradually lose hope for herself and others.

The single idea of friends in general always sent the french girl's mind back to her friends back in France. Her childhood friends, PSG Fem, all the boys over at PSG—over the past few years, she grew strong relations with all of them in many different ways and those relations were yet to dissipate. Though, there were times where Wynter believed that their friendships wouldn't last due to the fact that her presence wasn't firmly in France and if she were in her motherland, it wasn't like she'd the suitable opportunity to go visit them.

All in all, the french girl despised the fact that she was separated from the majority of her friends. Don't get her wrong, she adored her Liverpool teammates but sometimes she wished she'd the chances to go back to her roots willingly.

Once she got bored with her phone, she turned on her TV and left a sports channel playing. She slumped back into her bed, getting herself comfortable as she watched the replays for a random match. The moment the player on the TV screen scored a stellar goal, Wynter's phone rang. She closed her eyes tightly, the noise sounded by the phone quickly becoming irritating. She grabbed the phone off her nightstand and lowed the volume before she answered the phone.

"Yeah, hello?" her voice came out throaty due to not talking for a long period of time.

"Winnie, why does it sound like you just woke up. Did you just wake up?" Claire's authoritative voice flowed through the phone speakers.

"Oh hey, mom. Uh, no. I'm just at home right now. Training finished like two hours ago so I'm just here, bored out of my mind." 

"Okay then. Anyways, sorry about not calling you last week. I had to deal with a whole lot of my football clients in Spain so my schedule was pretty packed."

"It's honestly alright, mom. You're busy, you're constantly travelling so don't worry about it," Wynter dismissed her mother's excuses, letting a soft huff fly free. "Where are you by the way?"

"I'm in Paris but I'm heading down to the south soon to deal with another football transfer. Why?"

"I thought you were coming here for my next match, you promised."

"Exactly, you're next international match," her mom empathised.

"Wait, what?" her brows furrowed as she sat up in her seat. "So France's next match is against England?" Wynter asked for clarity seeing as she clearly had her football schedule incorrect in her mind.

"Precisely, but it's a friendlies match so no need to get worried about having to embarrass your boyfriend on the pitch." Claire clarified, letting out a chuckle.