The Unenchanted Tales of Jasmine White

Hi guys! So this is a new story I wanted to experiment on, since it's the holidays again! And yes, I've noticed that I like writing rather cliché stories, but please give this one a try! It is also sorta considered a fan-fiction for the famous Megan Meade novel, though the plot is kind of...really different, besides the seven boys and the soccer part. I swear, the soccer part was by coincidence! 

Anywho, enjoy the prologue, vote and comments are appreciated! Thanks, love you! 

~

Sometimes, I really feel like strangling my family members.

            “Mom!” I yell at the top of my lungs. “Where is my soccer ball?”

            “Which one?” My mother sounds bored, annoyed even. She doesn’t even make an attempt to look up from her Seven magazine, in which featured her advertising Gucci on Page Three.

            “Ugh!” I cry out, exasperated. Tears start to well up in my eyes. “It’s the one with Beckham’s signature on it! We need to find it, please! It’s my baby!” I was twelve back then, a toothy little girl with my hair cropped incredibly short. I had followed my mother to Miami for Victoria Beckham’s party – they were good friends in the industry—and when I heard that David Beckham was to be there too, I went from listless to ecstatic in a snap. David Beckham was my idol, my inspiration and my first crush. Ever since my father had introduced Soccer to me at the young age of five, I practiced relentlessly every single day, in hopes that one day I would finally meet the man of my dreams.

            Of course, my mother had strongly opposed against me spending time rolling in the dirt rather than having dainty little tea parties, but I was always a tough-headed girl and my mother knew that. Soon after, she gave up the idea of transforming me to the girl I was supposed to be—thank the heavens.

            So, clad in my oversized Los Angeles Galaxy shirt and my lucky soccer ball tucked safely under my armpit—a present from my dad—I sneaked off from my mother, who was too engaged in discussing the latest gossip with her friends to notice me, and embarked on a mission to find my one true love.

            It wasn’t that hard, really. David Beckham was “with the guys” at the other far end of the corner, quietly sipping on liquor with his friends away from all the noise. He was obviously drunk, his cheeks rosy from the alcoholic drink. My cheeks were the same shade too, but it was caused by blushing.

            I peed a little in my pants when his eyes met mine. His gaze was electrifying, and so, so mesmerizing. I quickly closed my gaping mouth and tried to control my wild beating heart as he cocked a quizzical eyebrow at me, and beckoned me to come closer.

            “Hey, little boy, are you lost? Where’s your mummy?” he stooped down and gave my blonde mop of hair a friendly tousle. I bit my lip hard to muffle my fan-girl screams.

            “Actually,” I wrung my hands nervously, staring hard at my shoes. “I c-came to see…y-you.”

            “Hey, didn’t see you as the type to cheat on Vic. Your kid?” one of the guys smacked Beckham’s back teasingly and laughed. Beckham, in return, wrestled him to the ground and erupted into a fit of laughter too.

            He sounded so dreamy when he laughed.

            “So,” he averted his gaze to me once more. “What business do you intend to discuss with me today, sir?”

            “Um…” I scratched my head awkwardly, and finally mustered the courage to ask him for an autograph on my soccer ball.

            “Well…” he paused, and I chewed my lips in suspense. Then, a breathtaking grin spread across his face. “I suppose I can’t turn down a fan of mine, can I?”