...
6 days later...
Patrick's POV
"Alright everyone. Match day. Get your kits on and get on that pitch. We need a win. Come on boys. Do it for Lewis."
I looked up as my manager nodded at me, before walking out. I rubbed my eyes and started getting changed.
"Are you okay, bro?" Adam tapped on my shoulder. I turned around and looked at him, before looking away and continuing to get changed. He scoffed and walked off.
I didn't need or want his sympathy. It was stupid. I was fine. I am fine.
We all walked out onto the pitch in our lines. As soon as I entered the pitch loud roars and screams of passion filled my ears. I looked up at the screen to see a picture of Lewis. It read,
'He owned the pitch, just like he owned our hearts.'
I clenched my fists and got into position. Before the referee blew the whistle, I looked around the stadium and then at the other team. I recognised one of the players.
I squinted my eyes and looked closer.
Him.
My veins bulged as the blood rushed to my head. Anger engulfed me all at once.
He caught me looking at him and smirked. He lifted up his fingers and started counting the players on our side of the pitch. He got to Lewis' number and held out his hands in fake confusion. Then he sarcastically pretended he remembered and pointed at the screen with the picture of Lewis plastered on it.
He made a notion with his hand and pretended to shoot himself in the chest. He laughed.
The whistle blew and I stormed over to him, completely forgetting where I was and everything around me. I lunged at him and picked him up by his shirt, throwing him on the floor.
I knelt over him and started viscously punching him in the face. The whistle blew again and I was dragged off of him. His nose and mouth were covered in blood as it started running down the rest of his face.
I wasn't finished with him. I broke out of the grasp of whoever was holding me and jumped on top of him. I didn't get chance to do much before I was dragged off again by security this time, who dragged me off the pitch as the referee held up a red card and the medics ran on.
They put me into a room with a small TV, showing the match. I watched it. We lost.
After the game finished my manager came storming in, swinging the door open.
"Patrick! What the fuck was that!"
I ignored him and looked at the floor.
"Pat. I know you're upset. We all are. But you can't be acting out like this. These are important games. I'm sorry, mate. I'm going to have to suspend you."
I looked up and widened my eyes. "Whatever." I said before walking out and bumping his shoulder purposely. He sighed as I slammed the door. I checked my phone and saw I had a text from Tony, asking me to meet him at the newsagents.
I sat in silence for a few minutes when I got in my car. I decided against putting the radio on. I knew it would all be about what happened. So I drove in silence.
Right now, silence was the best thing I could of heard.
I got there and parked behind the shop, as usual. I walked inside and straight behind the counter, not even looking up. I opened the door to his office and my eyes instantly met with a pair that I wasn't interested in seeing.
Danish.
He didn't say anything, which shocked me. He just looked at me sorrowfully and moved out of the way. I had seen that look too many times this week.
Tony eyed me up. He opened his laptop and turned it around, showing it to me. It showed a clip of me punching the player. I held back a smirk and stood up straight.
"What the fuck is this?"
I sighed. "He was there Tony. He's the reason he's dead. He-"
"I know you're upset and angry and whatever. But I can't have this right now. Our suppliers are pissed off enough as it is. I can't have you doing this. Not right now."
"Yeah I get that bu-"
"Hand over your gun."
"Wait, what?"
"Patrick. Don't make this difficult. Just hand it over."
I shook my head, not believing what I was hearing.
I looked over at Danish. He quickly looked at the floor. Tony tapped his fingers on the table and waited. I took my gun out of my pocket and dropped it on his desk.
"Listen. I will call you when things change. But right now, you need to lay low."
I shook my head and turned around, opening the door. I walked out of his office and out of the shop. I heard Danish follow me.
"Patrick, wait! Fam, I'm tired!"
I got to my car and he placed his hand on the door to stop me from opening it.
"Don't be angry. It will just get worse."
"Fuck off and leave me alone." I spat and moved his hand away. I climbed in the car and started the engine.
I heard him say "I need a muffin." Before I drove off.
Chanel's POV
"What movie should we watch next?" Maddison said, almost whispering.
"You dont have to stay with me. I'm fine." I choked out, pulling the duvet covers even further over my face. She turned to me and smiled. "I love you. I'm going to be here for you. Always."
I managed to crack a half hearted smile, which seemed to satisfy her as she turned back to the TV and put in 'High School Musical 2'.
"Are you hungry? You haven't eaten much."
"I'm fine." I answered, quietly.
"Chanel. I know it's hard. I can't even imagine how you are feeling. I'm so so sorry this happened. But it did. I'm here for you. Please, let me be here for you. You will feel better, I promise."
I looked at her, my eyes filling up.
"I promised Lewis he'd be okay."
She didn't say anything after that and just played the DVD. We watched it for a while before I turned to her. "I need a muffin."
She smiled brightly at me and told me she'd go get me one, but I wanted to come with her and get it myself. She agreed and we jumped in the car, wearing leggings, oversized jumpers and vans.
She turned on the radio and before she could even change the station, two men started talking about a fight that happened on the Chelsea pitch. Between Patrick and another player called Ryan.
I looked at her as she sighed. "He will be okay. He was his best friend."
She nodded and looked at me, sighing once again.
We got to the coffee shop quickly. She wasn't sure if I should go in there alone, after what happened. But I assured her I'd be fine. I pulled £2 out of my purse and got out of the car.
I walked past the alleyway leading to the back of the shop and goosebumps filled my body. I whimpered and quickly kept moving. I walked into the shop and instantly looked to my right, at the table we all sat at whilst we waited for our muffins.
I breathed in and out slowly and made my way to the till. "Can I have a blueberry muffin, please."
"Sorry, love. They are all gone. The guy who normally makes them just left and we just sold the last one."
I was suddenly angry. It felt like the world was against me. I know it was just a muffin but to me, it was so much more.
I heard someone chewing behind me.
I spun around and my eyes met with him. The guy from that night. Patrick's friend, Danish?
He was stood, tall, eating a blueberry muffin.
Wait.
Eating a what?
My eyes widened as I watched him take another bite of the muffin, looking at me.
"You..."
He tilted his head before realising something. "You're the girl from- oh my god. Listen I'm sorry abou-"
"You took the last fucking muffin! You twat!"
He looked at the muffin, looked at me, then back at the muffin.
"Shit." He said before he ran out of the shop.
"Oh no you don't! Bitch!"
I sprinted out of the shop, following him.
Maddison's POV
I decided to scroll through some of the news reports about Patrick. I hope he was okay. I heard loud noises from outside. I looked out of the car window.
Seconds later a recognisable guy ran past, holding a half eaten muffin in his hands, screaming like a small child.
I shook my head and rubbed my eyes. Huh? What just happene-
My thoughts were interrupted by a screaming Chanel, running after the boy. She was holding one of her shoes in her hand, waving it about, before she threw it towards him. She was shouting like a mad woman, "My fucking muffin!"
I blinked a few times.
Erm.
Okay.