hakimi gives golden retriever energy
first person pov
I looked around, shaking my head that I had actually believed my brother. He said we were going to a club, on Wall Street. Yet somehow, we'd ended up at a beach club in Brooklyn.
A part of me was thankful in honesty. While yes, this "club" technically did have a bounced and everything, it was a bit more lowkey. Not every racist investment banker on Wall Street was trying to get into this one unlike the club which was previously in our plans.
I had lost Emme and Carlos from the moment we got there. I had no doubt that his tongue was down her throat right this second.
That's a gross image. I shuddered at the thought.
Instead, I'd found company in Farah and Jason, two of my brother's friends.
"I'm honestly surprised we managed to even get in here." Farah laughed, as we strolled on the beach.
"Honestly same, this place was way more exclusive than that Wall Street club." Jason chimed in.
"Oh is that why we came here instead?" I questioned, receiving nods from both of them as answers.
"Some of the guys changed their mind when they heard some PSG footballers might be here. Emme made the final call since she said Carlos might like it better too." Farah elaborated.
I nodded again. Eventually, Farah and Jason left me to go get some beers.
I decided to wander inside the beach club, people watch maybe. I was not in the mood for socialising and drinking while being sleep deprived didn't seem to mix very well. The mood was quite low key, except for the long line leading to a heavily guarded door.
What was everyone in line for?
I wandered around for a few minutes and watched as the line gradually dispersed. I took my chance and went up to the bouncers. The amount of security seemed to have multiplied since I'd gotten here.
"What's everyone waiting in line for?" I asked, tapping on the closest bouncer.
"Your ID please." The man did a once over before checking my drivers license.
His eyes bulged out when he saw the picture. He called over someone else as they compared my picture with something else.
"It has to be her. Maybe she's under a fake name for security." I heard them mumble.
"Who do you want to see Miss?" They questioned.
I shrugged my shoulders nervously, "I don't know. I heard PSG's here."
That did it apparently. Because they nodded and opened the door for me. I watched as the others in line gaped at the door's opening. It was almost as if it was some exclusive, VIP sort of thing within an already particular club. I walked down the long hallway the door was opened to. It was dark, dimly lit. I texted my brother, Emme, and the others in case I died.
The hallway was LONG. After some more walking I finally reached another door with a man in front. He spoke into an ear piece, and smiled as he opened the door to let me in. Behind this final door was a large room. It was calm, relaxing almost. I could see it had direct access onto the same beach, but this was almost a private part of the beach. Everyone there here looked rich.
Not like the "rich" people but the "rich rich people". They weren't the money talks sort of people, but the wealth whispers sort of people. I gaped at my surroundings.
My thoughts were interrupted by a blonde girl who appeared next to me.
"Who are you here for?" She asked me.
"I'm not sure honestly, myself maybe."
"Ah they didn't tell you who requested you. Typical of the companies. I'm here for Nuno Mendes apparently. Well, I'll see you."
The blonde girl smiled and walked away as she spied Nuno Mendes. She put on a sultry smile and began what seemed to be flirting.
"Company, request, what?" I thought to myself.
Oh shit. There's no way. They think I'm an escort. Is it what I'm wearing? I looked down at my clothes again. There's no way. It's a yellow sundress. I look like little Miss Sunshine.
Not little miss escort who's actually little miss imposter, right?
I clicked my tongue several times, wondering what to do. Might as well blend in. I gingerly walked over to the bar and ordered myself a mocktail.
Again, I'm not trying to drink after not sleeping for two days. I waited as the bartender made my drink, trying not to draw attention to myself.
"Mocktail ah?" Someone spoke from behind me.
I turned to see a smiling man, Achraf Hakimi.
I smiled, starstruck but too tired to care. The bartender slid me the drink as I took a look at Hakimi's matching glass.
"No alcohol for you either." I observed.
He grinned, "Never ever."
"Well cheers to that." I clinked glasses with him.
"What's your name?" He asked me, clearly wanting to continue conversation.
"Catalina. Im a student at Northeastern." I introduce myself.
"I'm Achraf." He responds, i enthusiastically nod pretending not to know who he is.
What? It just makes it easier.
"So, what prompted you to start conversation?" I questioned him, slowly easing into it.
He chuckled, "One, I wanted a second drink which is why I came over in the first place. Two, I saw you when you came in. You look very out of place."
I sighed, "Is it that obvious?"
Achraf laughed again, "No, not really. Most of the people here are too busy with themselves, they rarely pay attention to anything that doesn't concern them."
"But you took notice?" I half stated, half asked.
"Introverts usually tend to." He justified.
Okay fair.
"So what are you doing here exactly?" He inquired.
I rubbed my temples, "Basically, I'm here with my brother and friends right. I'm super tired so I'm not drinking or partying with the rest of them so I went inside to the main club. And there was this huge line here so I asked what was up. And apparently the bouncers thought I was an escort, so I'm here now."
Achraf burst out laughing.
"That is the worst turn of events I've ever heard. I'm gonna tell my wife about this when I get back to Paris."
Achraf began looking alarmed, as though he revealed who he was by saying "Paris".
"Oh I mean, I work as a data analyst in Paris for this huge compa..." He started.
I motioned for him to stop, "I know who you are, don't worry."
It looked like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders.
"Well, that makes this a lot easier." He hummed.
"I don't really know what to do now." I thought aloud.
"Well I guess we might as well talk ab..." Achraf began, before he was cut off by someone bumping into me, and effectively spilling my drink on myself.
I groaned at the event. Just my luck.
Achraf looked up and shook his head, "Kyky, you spilled her drink, apologise!"
The man turned and his eyes connected with mine. He examined my face. And time stopped, for him at least. Me however, I was perfectly aware of who he was and had seen his face many times.
Kylian Mbappe.
"Kyky, this is Catalina. Catalina, Kylian. He is very sorry and will buy you a new drink." Achraf nudged his friend.
"Ye-Yeah. I'm very sorry. Let me buy you another drink." He offered, the enchanted look on his face soon turning to the smirk the internet was well acquainted with.
I shook my head, "No, it's alright. It wasn't that great anyways."
"At least let me get you a drink that you like. Over by the beach bar." Kylian gestured to the bar situated on the private beach.
What did I have to lose? A few minutes of boring conversation? What the hell.
***
"I'm sorry it's true you do look like a ninja turtle!" I defended my claim.
In the past ten minutes, conversation had flowed surprisingly fast.
"Tell me, what about me looks like a ninja turtle?" He yelled back, laughing.
"It's not your features! More like your head shape and that type a stuff!" I was doubling over in laughter at my own words.
"Dios mío, esta niña es loca.." Kylian joked, assuming I didn't understand Spanish.
"Yo soy loca? Tu cabeza es un círculo, como Donatello y Michelangelo!" I exclaimed.
"Tu hablas español?" He questioned, very surprised.
"No, yo hablo coreano!" I answered sarcastically.
We both doubled over in laughter, clearly enjoying each others company.
"What do you like about America?" He questioned, switching back to English.
"Deep question." I pondered.
I chuckled while formulating an answer, "Uh I honestly don't know. It's home to me. I was born here, lived here all my life, go to school here. My family's here too. Everything that matters in the world to me, it's in America."
I watched Kylian smile as my eyes lit up while I spoke of my country.
"Can't wait till we kick England's ass in the World Cup." I joked.
Kylian shook his head, "Good luck getting past the group stage, France will beat England, easy."
I scoffed, "Not in the current form. You guys are a shell of your former selves."
"That hurt my heart." Kylian said, feigning hurt.
I rolled my eyes at his antics.
"You know what I like about America?" He asked me.
"What?" I responded, turning my head to him.
"You."
And with that, he cupped my cheeks and kissed me softly. At that moment, fireworks went off in the sky. It seemed that we were fated, our story was to be written in the stars.
But was it really?
I am going to cry at how long this took me, thank you.