A Goal, A Punch & A Kiss
A/n: the following match described is fictional. It is a match made up by me. So incase there is any errors in the description pls excuse me.
France vs England.
The match for which I was desperately waiting for. My life literally depended on this match. This match was the purpose of my existence. Both the teams were exceedingly good and competitive. It was going to be a long and tough game, both to play and to watch, for sure. Stade de France was an absolute sight with everyone wearing the colours of their respective teams. There were loud cheers and shouts from all across the stadium. If the experience before the match had begun was so overwhelming, then I could only imagine what would happen once the real action began. Believe it or not, but it was the first time I was watching a match in the stadium and I was thrilled.
I really wished for England to win, not because Harry Kane was a close friend, but because there was a newly married couple sitting on the opposite side of the stadium that I really wished to taunt and tease when their country was defeated by mine. I also wished to show the new bride that she had made a terrible mistake in forsaking her very own country for her husband's country. Guessing who this couple was? Well it was the 'famous' Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont who had returned from their lavish honeymoon very much pregnant and happy. We all got so busy with our own life and its problems that we forgot to celebrate the news. Hence, we had decided to celebrate it by watching the match.
Alex had accompanied me as he had promised. We were dating, but only for four months. We both realised that it was getting a little weird and that it was not the way either of us wanted to spend the rest of our lives. He was always travelling, and when he was not, I was travelling. The difference in the time zones and the long distance, made us realise that we were good as friends but nothing beyond that was possible. I mean, there was a limit to face timing each other. However, unlike last time, we maintained our friendship and were always there for each other.
I don't know whether things got weird because of Antoine or not, but I can assure you that I was hurt when he didn't reply to my messages and when he didn't call back. I was hurt when I saw Crimsyn and him together in magazines or in the news-papers, and I was frustrated because no matter how much I try, I just couldn't get a hold of him.
Alex sat next to me, handing me the coke and hot dog that he bought from the counter. Alex was wearing England's red jersey with 'Rashford' written on it while I wore the white jersey which had 'Kane' written on it. I was wearing those hats and was holding a muffler in my hand which had 'England' written on it. He laughed looking at my excitement and I simply nudged him with my elbow. It was probably hard, because his skin turned red and he kept rubbing it with his palm, and he had a frown planted on his face.
The match had started soon and the atmosphere around suddenly became tense. England made some dangerous mistakes but so did France. We had a few injuries with both teams getting affected. A few yellow cards and millions of verbal warnings were given to both the teams. It was a heated first half but there was no significant moment in the match that would have changed the game. England had missed two shots while France missed a penalty, thanks to our goalie. With the score still being 0-0, the teams entered into 5 minutes extra time before the referee would blow the whistle, signalling the half time break.
With two minutes in, England was given a penalty shot, thanks to the referee's decision and Olivier Giroud's tackle. Harry had gone in to take the shot. There was a tense silence in the stadium, one side hoping for a goal while the other, hoping for Harry to miss it or for Hugo Lloris to save it. With every passing second, I could hear my heart beat increase its pace and intensity. I was not the only one who felt this way. Alex had gripped my hand so tightly that it almost seemed as if he was going to break my knuckles. All of our eyes were on Harry, and Harry's eyes were only on the ball.
In he went for the kick and.... GOAL!
Harry had scored, giving England the led ahead France. The happiness, laughter, joy, everything seemed to be contagious. I hugged Alex so tight that he was chocking, but he didn't say anything because of his own happiness. I started jumping up and down. Harry, who was celebrating the goal with his team mates, now looked around the stadium for me. I waved vigorously. Luckily, he saw me, making me to stop waving. He did an action which I had told him to do if he scored. It made me smile and blush a little.
Meanwhile, the other side was mourning this goal. They seemed quite frustrated. Some threw their hats in dismay while some just started yelling French curses. The French team wasn't incredibly happy either. But they didn't loose hope. There was still another 45 minutes to be played and anything could happen.
The referee blew the whistle and stopped the game. The score now was 0-1. England was winning and I couldn't be happier.
Alex and I were busy rejoicing when my phone rang. It was Mary. She was face timing us.
"England 1, France 0. Yay. I told you don't leave England's side." I said happily.
"Yeah I think you were right. But I can't leave Justin in this demoralized. Remember, 'in happiness and in sorrow'." Mary said with a little frustration. I know she didn't like to be on the losing side.
I laughed a little and said," Where's my brother-in-law?"
Mary flipped her camera and showed Justin's sulky face. Alex and I couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"Don't laugh. I have full faith in my team. They will win. We have talented and skilful players who are yet to play. Deschamps will bring them out on time. They will cause a rapid havoc in your team and leave them stranded in a 'harry-kane' (hurricane )." Justin said aggressively, taking our laughter on his straight to heart.
"that pun was awfully bad and extremely rude. Poor harry, he is just doing his duty for his country. Don't be mean to him. And plus, stop being a spoilt sport!" Alex said seriously and with a rude and harsh tone. It almost seemed as if the two best friends were going to get in deep if they were facing each other in person.
Luckily before anything got worse than it was, the match resumed and the players started coming out of the tunnel. The teams were the same and no substitutions were made. They arranged themselves on the field and the referee blew the whistle. England had possession of the ball and before you knew it, Harry made another goal. The goal was legit marvellous. The whole experience of the celebration was twice of what it was before. This goal secured our victory. With only 48 minutes into the game we I could literally imagine the headlines on tomorrows BBC news. This was going to be super exciting.
With 60 minutes into the match the score was still 0-2. I could feel the French team's agitation. Their frustration and need to win in the home stadium was quite visible from the number of yellow cards and foals they were making. But this absolutely didn't affect me, because in the first football match that I was watching in the stadium, I was on the winning side. I was happy that I didn't hear the name of the substitution made in the French team. I only realised something had happened when I heard Alex mumble softly yet loud enough for me to hear, "SHIT!!!"
"what happened?" I asked looking at his pale face, raising an eyebrow. It seemed as if he had seen a ghost.
He pointed out with his index finger towards the field and said," that's what happened."
I looked at what Alex was pointing out. Seeing that person caused my heart to skip a beat. I hadn't for some weird reason expected to see Antoine here. Of course, Antoine had told me that he played for the France national team but it just slipped out of my mind, just like most of the things to do with him had.
I had started to stop bothering myself about him. As a result, the only way to do that was by forgetting things about him or at least locking them away, deep down in a chamber in my mind, such that I would never be able to open it again. But seeing him coming out on the field, all those details about him that I had locked away started pouring out. I wanted to escape because the pressure that I felt, rather the burden that I felt on my heart, seemed to be growing extremely rapidly on seeing him. I had somehow convinced myself that I didn't love him but now...
Now, I just didn't know.
The conflict I felt within me was massive. I had to meet him today after the match. I had to talk to him and explain him what had happened. I had to tell him that I didn't kiss Alex. I had to tell him how I felt about him.
But did I myself know how I feel about him?
Did I love him?
And if I did, was it as a friend or something more than that?
Ugh! this was not something that I had planned for. At least not now.
As I continued looking at him on the field, looking paler than ever, the match had gotten much more intense than before. The ball kept shuffling between the different players of the French team. They weren't letting England get hold of it under any given circumstance. The ball went from Pavard to Pogba who very efficiently passed to Griezmann who was standing in the middle of the field. Griezmann extremely skilfully got the ball passed the English players and probably realising he wouldn't be able to take it any closer to the post, he took the risk and shot the ball.
Everyone's hearts stop beating. Half the stadium hoped for a goal while the other half did not. Everyone had chosen a stance when it came to this ambitious shot except me. My heart stopped, hoping partly that it wasn't a goal and partly hoping it was. I wished for my team's victory but his happiness as well. Probably, the result of the shot would tell me what mattered more- England or him.
And... it was a GOAL!
It was the most spectacular goal I had ever seen. The goal was so beautifully executed that I had tears in my eyes. The joy of his victory surpassed the sorrow I felt for my team's loss. Probably, he mattered more to me than my team. Probably, I still cared. Probably, I still hoped to be with him and probably, I wished to be more than just a friend. England was still leading, so, I chose to wait till the end of the match to confirm my feelings.
Antoine stood there like a statue, probably he himself was shocked about the goal he had just made. I mean, it was a miracle. His team ran towards him and when they reached him, they pounced on him like hungry animals. There behaviour made me laugh a bit but I controlled it seeing the dismay of the once happy and smiling English stand. When his team got off him, I could see that he was looking around for someone. I thought it might be Crimsyn, but if it was her he was looking for, why would he search around in the English stand?
He looked for a short while and that's when his lovely grey flaked blue eyes met my hazel ones. The tension that we probably thought we would have in our eyes on seeing each other, was absent. Or even if it was present, it was soon replaced by a soothing comfort that we always found in each other. On seeing me a smile appeared on his face which in turn brought one on mine. He instantly pointed his finger towards me and mouthed- "for you... only you."
To be continued...