imbalance | trent alexander-arnold¹

thirteen.

Wynter groaned, face pushed into her pillow. "Mom, stop calling Trent my boyfriend. He's not my boyfriend."

"Yet," she instantly recognised the distant voice in the background that belonged to her dad.

"You told dad?!" the forward's eyes widened.

"Nope, I think it was your brother."

Wynter let out a humourless laugh, plopping her head on her hand. "Huh? of course Nate did."

"I don't expect any better from the boy. Speaking of Spain, I got a chance to pop in on Antoine. He asked about you, you know."

Wynter perked up at the mention of her teammate. "Really? What about?" she questioned.

"You know, he just asked about your therapy, how's it going, are things getting any better for you. Just the usual questions," a mere silent fall over the line as Claire searched for her following words to utter. "And while they're still important questions to ask, they are still important questions to answer too, Winnie. So tell me, how are you feeling right now?"

There was a silent moment of hesitation for the player. Even though her mother never stated it, she knew that with all the past experiences that she endured, she was pretty much Claire's biggest liability within the football industry. Whether others wanted to admit it or not, Wynter understood why some individuals might've viewed her as a burden due to her youthful age, which is why she never felt the need to slice out her tough problems and emotions to people—she simply just had too many of them for certain people to handle all at once.

However, even if she built up a wall between herself and others, her mother always brought it back down yet again. Ever since the upsetting incident that took place in Russia, Wynter knew that if something was dancing about in her mind, the first person she'd confront would be none other than Claire Reyes.

"Honestly," she exhaled softly to maintain her relaxed breathing patterns, carefully massaging her temple as she continued. "I think I'm feeling a bit homesick."

. . .

While Reds and Man City fans filled up the seats of Anfield, Wynter wandered its internal hallways as she searched for one of Liverpool's medics to quickly check out her bandaged knee. She didn't necessarily deem it as an injury since she could play football just perfectly fine. Unfortunately, she missed Liverpool's match against Chelsea in the Carabao Cup as well as the Champions League match against Napoli to which were both lost by the Reds so she felt as though it was finally the perfect time for her to come back to the pitch.

Wynter's tan eyes weren't focused on those who walked passed her so when she accidentally bumped into someone's shoulder, she let out a soft, "Oh, sorry. My bad."

A laugh escaped the person's mouth. "Wow, Winnie. So not even a hello or a how are you? Nothing?"

Wynter's eyes widened as she paused in her tracks. She did a 180° turn, soon facing the person she'd bumped into. As soon as she faced the Man City player who stood in front of her with a slight smirk on his face, a broad grin soon appeared across her lips. "Lele!"

The player, Leroy Sané, placed a hand over his heart as he shook his head. "No, it's the Queen of England," he spoke in a sarcastic tone though the Liverpool player dismissed his childish ways, quick to wrap her arms around his slightly taller frame.

The pair had known each other for quite a while. Way before Wynter's professional football career began, Claire managed Leroy for quite some time while he still played in Germany for Schalke 04. She travelled with her mom to Germany on certain occasions back in the day and so with the toy age range between the two players, they soon became friends and successfully kept contact with each other.