imbalance | trent alexander-arnold¹

thirty.

worthy of a king's crown

Although the squad and Wynter had been thriving for the Premier League title since the start of the season, once again, it wasn't Liverpool's time to win it just yet. Of course, there was devastation amongst the Kop and the players themselves but it also made them realise that they still had a chance to claim the Champion's League title – the one that many believe they should've won last season.

Once they touched down on the Spanish soil of Madrid, they were welcomed with overwhelming support from their travelling fans of all ages. As she passed a few of them, Wynter made sure to sign any accessories they had in their current grasps. The young fans glancing at the french player in amazement, the teenaged-girls encouraging her to continue with her inspirational movement while teen boys shamelessly fawned over Wynter.

During the final training session over at their temporary training camp, the squad shared many laughs and jokes as they trained, knowing that as soon as the day came around, they needed to be in their element.

With everything in order and ready to go, the squad made their way out of the hotel one by one, building up the fans with vivid anticipation seeing their idols up close. Still in the hotel reception, Wynter sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling her bipolar nerves act up. As excited as she was for the match ahead of her and the squad, there also came a sense of worry.

With Liverpool's unexpected win at Anfield against Barcelona due to Wynter's last-minute goal, even though no one verbally voiced it, many football viewers and fans expected a lot from the player which only hyped up her nerves.

All she wanted to gain from this was to claim the trophy for her team, her club and of course, for the loyal fans. Not that she wanted to discard the hard work that Tottenham had gone through to get to the final, but Wynter felt as though Liverpool deserved the title just by a major gap. Along with that, for someone like Wynter to obtain the CL title would truly be a major smack in the face to every single person who degraded her character simply because she was a woman excelling in a sport that was seemingly claimed by men.

"Winnie? Are you okay?" Trent asked as he approached the girl.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm just a little nervous for the game, that's all. I don't want to mess this up, you know? I want us to win. It would kind of be a little sad if Liverpool lost in the final again,"

"Yeah, it would," the scouse sighed at the mention of the bittersweet memory. Soon a cheeky grin found its way on his face. "Though, I know this time around Liverpool have nothing to worry about because we have you."

"Woah, so smooth of you, Trent." Wynter rolled her eyes at his attempt to cheer her spirits up.

"I know," he chuckled, bringing her into his embrace as his hands relaxed on her face, gently caressing her cheeks so she would calm down. "On a serious note, I think everything is going to be okay. As soon as we all play to our best ability then we've nothing to worry about. And I know you're probably thinking that you've to score but just know that you're not the only forward on the team so don't be stressed about scoring, okay?"

She nodded, "Alright." she replied before Trent pressed a kiss on her forehead.

"We'll be okay. I promise." Those were the last words Trent uttered before someone called out his name. "That's my queue. I'll see you in a bit, yeah?"

"See you," Reluctantly, Wynter released her soft grip on the scouse, allowing her hands to fall to her sides. He offered the french girl one final grin before he made his out onto the bus.

As soon as Wynter stepped foot outside of the hotel with her suitcases trailing on each side of her, her nerves melted away when the chants and cheers of the fans came into her ear range. The sight of the fans sent Wynter feeling an excessive amount of gratitude towards them, somehow always having a way to shrink her insecurities.