𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟯𝟬
𝘗𝘜𝘕𝘊𝘏
———
MAEVE, STILL GRAPPLING with disbelief over what she had just witnessed, felt an urgent need for solace. In the quiet of the nearly midnight hour, she found herself standing in front of a familiar door, arms folded tightly. The weight of what had transpired pressed on her, driving her to knock loudly to ensure she was heard.
After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing a sleepy Mason rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Maeve?" he asked, his voice heavy with sleep. Tears welled up in her eyes once again as she mumbled, "Can I come in?" The vulnerability in her voice mirrored the turmoil within, seeking refuge in the presence of someone she trusted.
Mason opened the door wider, concern etching his features as he saw Maeve visibly upset. Once inside his room, he flipped the lights on, casting a soft glow over the space. Maeve took a seat on his bed, her emotions unraveling as Mason, arms crossed, stood nearby, a worried gaze fixed on his distressed sister.
"What's going on? You're freaking me out, Maeve. What happened?" Mason's voice betrayed a hint of panic as he sought answers. The atmosphere in the room was charged with an anxious energy, and Maeve, still overcome with emotion, continued to cry. She struggled to find the words, her attempts to speak momentarily stifled by the weight of her feelings.
Mason continued to ramble, his mind racing to wild possibilities. "Are you pregnant? Is that why you're crying?" he blurted out, his concern taking a frantic turn. "Did that fool get you pregnant?" Maeve shook her head, her tears still streaming, and she responded, "No, that's not it. That would actually be easier to deal with then this."
Feeling a mix of confusion and deep concern for his sister, Mason implored, "Maeve, what happened then? Please tell me." He took a seat beside her, offering both physical and emotional support as he waited for her to share the burden that weighed so heavily on her shoulders.
Maeve, overcome with emotion, blurted out, "He cheated on me, Mason. With Rebecca." Mason's entire body tensed, his expression shifting from concern to outright anger. "Where is he?" he shouted, his tone laced with fury. Without waiting for an answer, her brother began rushing around the room, frantically searching for his shoes. "I'm going up to him. Who the fuck does he think he is?" Mason's voice, filled with a protective rage, echoed through the room as he grappled with the news.
Mason, fueled by an unwavering protectiveness for Maeve, was ready to storm up and confront the one who had hurt her. However, Maeve, knowing the gravity of the situation, couldn't let him go without revealing the whole truth. In a swift move, she grabbed his arm as he marched past and said, "Mason, sit down. I need to tell you everything."
Reluctantly, he took a seat, his eyes still burning with anger. Maeve, with a deep breath, began to explain the last three months to her brother. "He didn't really cheat because our relationship was never real to begin with. It still hurts though."
Mason looked at his sister in confusion, his demand for more information evident in his expression. "Maeve, you're going to have to give me a lot more information than that." Maeve, with a deep sigh, began to explain everything, perhaps going into a bit too much detail for her brother. She took him back to the beginning – the night in the club, the meeting with their managers, their first date, the night they spent together at her father's party.
She recounted all the matches she attended for him, the day she spent with him and Ronnie in Manchester, and the highs and lows of their relationship. As she spoke, Mason's expression shifted from confusion to realization, the depth of her connection with Phil becoming increasingly clear.
The narrative reached its painful climax with the kiss in the elevator, leading into their fight, and ultimately culminating in the heartbreaking revelation – he had cheated on her. The weight of the truth hung in the air, leaving both siblings entangled in the intricacies of Maeve's unraveling relationship.
Mason sat across from Maeve, the shock of the revelation rendering the hotel room silent. Only the soft ticking of the wall clock could be heard. His hand hung limply at his side as he stared at the ground, processing the weight of what he had just discovered. "Maeve—"
The brunette cut him off, her voice trembling with a mix of sorrow and frustration. "I understand that we were never actually dating, but part of me was beginning to believe it was real." Tears welled up in her eyes once again, and Mason, seeing her emotional turmoil, moved without hesitation. He pulled her into a comforting hug, silently offering the solace of familial support in the face of heartache.
Maeve looked at Mason with a mix of concern and urgency, saying, "Look, Mase, whatever happens, just please don't act on anger. It'll only make it all worse." Mason, despite the burning anger he felt and his desire to find Phil, nodded in compliance.
"I won't do anything, Maeve, but if he does anything else, I will step in," Mason added firmly. Maeve, overwhelmed with the chaos surrounding her, pulled her brother into a hug. Despite her initial intent to keep her relationship with Phil and the truths behind it a secret, she realized she needed Mason now more than she's ever needed someone before.
———
PHIL STOOD IN the corridor, helpless, watching Maeve's retreating figure until it disappeared around the corner. Defeat washed over him, leaving a profound sense of uncertainty. He returned to his hotel room, met with Rebecca's sly smirk. "Uh, oh. Looks like you upset her," she taunted. Ignoring her, Phil pushed past and sank onto the small couch, holding his head in his hands, grappling with the aftermath of his actions.
He knew Maeve, knew that she wouldn't easily forgive or forget. The realization hit him – he might have irreparably damaged whatever fragile connection they had. Closing his eyes, he replayed the hurt on her face, the tear-streaked eyes that haunted his thoughts. What had he done? Rebecca's voice disrupted his inner turmoil.
"Calm down, babe," she said, the pet name sounding like venom. Phil cringed, feeling the weight of his mistakes. "It's just Maeve; she'll get over it." Rebecca hummed, indifferent, picking at her acrylic nail.
"Get out, Rebecca," Phil mumbled, leaning back on the couch. "Oh, come on, Phil. Don't get all worked up over Maeve Mount. She'll be fine; she's just being dramatic." The tension rose, and Phil reached his limit. "Get the fuck out, Rebecca! Leave." She scoffed but gathered her belongings and exited, leaving with a parting shot. "You messed everything up, Phil, but I think you already know that." The weight of her words hung in the air as he grappled with the consequences of his actions.
Phil sat alone, the weight of regret heavy on his shoulders. Pushing himself off the couch, he stumbled over the mini-fridge, reaching for solace in the form of a bottle of beer. One bottle turned into another, and another, until there was nothing left to drink. The background hum of a sports program provided a dull soundtrack as he scrolled through his phone, a mix of regret and alcohol driving him to send messages to Maeve.
Despite pouring his emotions into the texts, there was only silence on the other end – no reply from the one person he desperately sought. The room echoed with his solitude, the glow of the phone screen a harsh reminder of the connection he had strained to the breaking point. The empty bottles and unanswered messages were tangible symbols of the mess he had made, leaving Phil to grapple with the consequences in the deafening quiet of his hotel room.
Phil, waking up to his alarm and a pounding headache, realized the consequences of his decision to drown his sorrows in alcohol. With training on the schedule, he dragged himself out of bed, accepting the repercussions of his late-night escapade.
Arriving at the training complex, conveniently close to the hotel, he stepped onto the pitch. A ball was immediately kicked his way by one of the trainers. "Go warm up with the other lads, Foden," the instruction came, and Phil gave a thumbs up, jogging toward the small group.
Focused on football, he passed the ball back and forth with Jack, stretching and warming up before the training session. Declan's shout broke through the routine. "Mount, you're late! Hurry up." Phil, at the mention of 'Mount,' looked up, hoping to see the familiar brunette, but she was nowhere in sight.
Instead, it was Mason walking toward the group of footballers. Mason walked straight past Declan without a greeting, his determined stride leading him to Phil. Before Phil could react, Mason was practically in front of him. "Morning, Mase-" he started, but was interrupted.
Before he knew it, Mason's knuckles connected with Phil's cheek, causing him to stumble back in shock. "What the fuck, mate?!" Phil yelled, throwing his arms up in defense. Mason, fueled by anger, squared up to Phil, delivering a hard shove. "You fucking prick. Do you even know how much you've hurt Maeve?"
Despite the guilt gnawing at him, Phil pushed Mason back and threw a punch, escalating the tension. Mason, consumed by rage, retaliated, landing another punch right on Phil's eye. The situation was spiraling into a full-on fight when other teammates interfered.
Declan and Trent rushed in, managing to hold Mason back and trying to usher him away from the pitch. The air crackled with tension, the consequences of Phil's actions now manifesting in the form of a physical confrontation.
Mason and Phil were forcefully separated, dragged off the training pitch and ushered into different rooms by the medical staff. The air hung heavy with tension as the two injured players were tended to – not just for their physical wounds but also to quell the storm of emotions that had ignited on the pitch as the medical staff worked diligently
———
THE NEXT MORNING, while the lads were at training, Maeve took the time to confide in Leah about everything that unfolded the night before. The two girls lay by the pool, Maeve comfort-eating marshmallows as she poured her heart out to her best friend.
Leah, shocked at Maeve's story, expressed her surprise. "I wouldn't have encouraged you to go up to him if I had known this would have been the outcome," she mumbled. Maeve nodded in agreement, "I wouldn't have gone up to him."
Sitting up on the pool lounger, Maeve continued, "I get he isn't actually my boyfriend, but it still hurts." Leah mirrored her friend's movement. "And you know what the worst thing is? It was Rebecca. It could have been anyone, but it was her."
Leah, who usually sought the good in people, couldn't find any redeeming qualities in Rebecca. "I can already see the big smirk and rude remarks she's going to make when she sees you," Leah spat out, mirroring Maeve's frustration and anger at the situation.
Maeve ran her hands through her hair and sighed, "I hate to admit it but I enjoy being-" Her admission was abruptly cut off by John, who hurried over to them and took a quick seat beside Leah. "John?" Leah asked, looking at her boyfriend with confusion. "Are you not meant to be at training?"
John's expression was serious as he looked at Maeve. "Maeve, your brother and your boyfriend are after beating the shit out of each other. You need to go see them," he said. Maeve let out another sigh, muttering, "Fucking hell, Mason," as she cursed her brother for adding more chaos to an already tumultuous situation.
Maeve threw her head back and groaned, then turned her attention to John and Leah, particularly Leah, who wore a puzzled expression. "Where are they now?" Leah asked. John replied, "At the training ground still. If you go over there now, someone will bring you to them."
Without wasting any time, Maeve hopped off the lounger and began rushing through the luxurious hotel she had been staying in. The training ground was close, only about a fifteen minute walk, but Maeve got there in under ten.
She wandered into the first main building, where there was a reception desk. Maeve rushed over to it, placing her hands on the counter. "Where is Phil and Mason?" she asked abruptly, urgency in her tone. The young woman behind the desk looked up at her with a bored expression.
"And who are you?" she asked in a monotone voice.
"Maeve Mount. I'm Mason's sister and Phil's—" she paused, her voice stuck in her throat. The bored woman began tapping her nails on the counter. "Phil's...?" she suggested, trying to get Maeve to finish.
"Girlfriend. I'm his girlfriend," Maeve finally admitted. The woman let out a dry laugh, "I'm presuming you're the girl that caused all this then." Maeve, frustrated, snapped abruptly at the woman, "Look, if you're not going to tell me where they fucking are, then I'll go find someone who will!"
"Go through that door there and then take a left. The room is at the bottom of the corridor."
Maeve didn't bother thanking the rude receptionist as she rushed through the indicated door, making her way to the two guys. She pushed open white double doors and saw Mason and Phil. Mason seemed fine at first glance, but Phil adorned a black eye that had quickly bruised. There was an elderly nurse cleaning the cut on his cheek, and she quickly looked at the girl who had just arrived before getting back to work. Maeve stood at the doorway, staring at both of them.
"Maeve?" Mason said, not expecting to see his sister arrive unannounced. At the same time, Phil breathed her name, but it wasn't confusion laced in his voice; it was longing, it was regret—maybe even guilt. Maeve ignored the black-haired footballer and went straight over to her brother, giving him a shove.
"Hey!" he shouted, holding his arms up. "What did I do?" he said. Maeve's patience wearing thin, shouted. "What did you do? I told you not to do anything, but instead, you come here and punch Phil in the face!" she said, pointing to the other guy in question but not daring to look at him.
"So now you're defending him?" Mason yelled back. "After what he's done." Maeve scoffed, "No, I'm not defending him, Mase. But he's not worth it. You're wasting your time giving him a reaction."
Phil went to intervene, which would have undoubtedly sparked another fight, when the elderly nurse raised her voice. "Foden, you're fine, so you can leave. Mason, you're also fine. Maeve, you should leave too. Before I'm left cleaning up more wounds."
The three took their stand and left. No one muttered a word as they walked out of the building, past the rude secretary who didn't miss a beat when saying a suggestive goodbye to the two guys beside Maeve.
It wasn't until they were standing in the parking lot that Phil spoke, "Maeve, please, if you could just give me five minutes to explain." The brunette shook her head. "No, Phil. You don't get five minutes. I don't want to be near you, I can't."
Maeve walked away, leaving a stunned Phil and still an angry Mason behind.
———
authors note :
HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER!!!!!!! mason is such a good brother ☺️☺️
i didn't really know how to end it so it's a bit.. weird? idk but it's a chapter and much appreciated phil and maeve content 🥰🥰
they're still not on good terms lol. and it might take AWHILEEE to get phil back in maeve's good books... 😃
anyways pls vote and comment xx
(i also didn't proof read this so it might have typos and random shit all over the place..)
word count : 2681