twenty-one | push the right buttons

(@dionnestanley via instagram stories!)

LUCY STANLEY REPLIED TO YOUR STORY!
Do you have a new rugby bf??? 👀

DIONNE STANLEY
ew no.
he literally has a girlfriend

LUCY STANLEY
Is Patty playing?
read

WORK WAS ENDLESS. At least in Dionne's specific line of work; there was always a story needing to be reported on. A scoop could be found, if one knew where to dig.

With the controversial Dolphins interview being their most viewed and clipped interview thus far, Timothee had the bright idea for Dionne to split her time between the two clubs tonight. Double the workload (she was not excited). Though, the Dolphins team ought to be insulted as his plan basically relied on the Broncos defeating them tonight. On principal, Dionne had decided she was going to be backing the Dolphins tonight (anything to get out of crossing paths with a particular Broncos number thirteen).

For her grand comeback—Timothees wording, not hers (with how dramatic he was being, one would think she was away for months not a literal weekend)—she was ushered into the Dolphins box to commentate the game with Herbie Farnworth. Being out on injury, the British centre had jumped at the opportunity to have something to occupy his time during the game. "Yeah, I hate just having to watch," he'd told her during the game, just after kickoff.

"Got any dirt on your old teammates?" She'd asked him jokingly as they watched Corey Oates dive to catch the ball. The cringed at how much it must hurt your joints to just throw yourself around the field like these players did.

Herbie turned to look directly at the camera wearing a massive smirk. "Who you asking about?"

Dionne bit her lip, knowing this was going to be a loaded question. "I dunno, who's gonna bring in the most views?"

Herbie looked very pleased with her answer which made her nervous for what was about to come out of his mouth. "If you were anyone else, I'd say Walshy but. . ." he sized her up and she knew exactly where he was going with this.

"Tell me a secret about Reece Walsh then," she cut in before he had the chance to finish his dig. Coincidental timing as Reece, on the field, had just been passed the ball.

Shaking his head, Herbie thought for a moment. "I can't think of anything appropriate, aye," he told her, laughing at the memories that played in his mind. "He's low-key a really good hairdresser, actually," Herbie added after a moment. "Gave all the boys trims during lockdown when all the barbers were shut."

Dionne turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. "Reece Walsh cuts hair? That's your scoop?" She tried to envision the full buck with clippers, a line of ravenous players awaiting him to transform them.

The British player leant back in his seat, eyes focused on Hamiso Tabuai-Fidow as he charged through the Bronco's defence. "Actually," he turned to her when the ball was turned over to Brisbane again, "it's your scoop. I don't write your articles. But yeah, I'll find a picture of how he did Kotoni's hair later."

"What about Kotoni Staggs—this is his home, after all," Dionne questioned, trying to pivot the conversation.

"Are you going to ask me about every player except the one you want to ask about?" Herbie retorted, smoothening out his moustache to hide his smirk.

The question caught her off guard. "I don't know what you're referring to," she huffed, crossing her arms.

Herbie sized her up before saying, "I can tell you what Patty's type is, I'm sure you're dying to know if it's you—"

"I am not," she replied a bit too quickly. As Herbie opened his mouth to say something else, she added. "Though, I'm sure his fangirls would want to know." She ground her teeth together. "That'll be a real scoop to them."

She really wanted to wipe the smug look off his face. "Is that so? Only his fangirls want to know?"

Dionne rolled her eyes at the insinuations he was making. "Duh."

"Well, on a night out he always goes for brunettes," he began, looking at her in the corner of his eye to gage her reaction.

"How original."

Herbie scoffed. "He got a man bun in his twenties, he's  the biggest cliche ever."

Okay, this made her giggle a little. "You're not wrong. . ." That was when she finally allowed herself to actually look at him. The whole game she'd been pointedly looking everywhere but wherever he was located on the pitch. Even from high above and far away, she could see the sweat beading down his forehead as it plastered his stray hers to his face. Dirt and blood caked to his joints. His eyes were narrowed as he sized up the opponents, probably thinking up a billion different scenarios for how this game would turn out. Dionne hadn't seen him since Melbourne and she wasn't sure she was ready to yet.

"You're staring," Herbie snickered after a moment of silence.

Dionne forcibly dragged her gaze away to glare. "I'm just watching the game."

"The balls down the other end of the field," he pointed out.

"I'm. . . taking into account how full the stands are," she retorted. "There's a lot of aspects you gotta take into account when you write an article, you know."

"I didn't know Patty was in the stands," he said lazily, knowing he'd won. Korra had to throw a hand over her mouth, trying to not burst out laughing.

Dionne sighed, knowing Korra was going to have a headache editing this footage. "Anyways. How's rehabilitation treating you?"

"Clever subject change," Herbie mumbled, a mischievous glint to his eyes. "But it's alright," he sighed. "I just wanna be back out there already."

"Do you miss your old club much?" It was her turn to ask the uncomfortable questions.

"I mean, I miss my mates, sure but I like it here," he said diplomatically after a moment. "I—bloody hell, how was that not a try—!?"

And that was how the rest of their evening went, firing loaded questions back and fourth until the full time whistle blew. Dionne felt like she'd gotten to know Herbie Farnworth really well by the end of it.

"How do you feel about the loss?" She asked, holding the microphone to him as he stood to leave the box after the game.

He shook his head, grinning as they cut the cameras. "I'll walk you's down to the sheds if you want," Herbie offered.

"Are you even allowed in the Broncos change rooms now?" Dionne raised her brows at him.

"I didn't play tonight, it's fine," Herbie said, shrugging as he held the door open for her and Korra. "Gotta say hi to the boys."

The brunette squinted at him as she passed through the door. She turned to Korra to ask, "Did Timothee say he was meeting us down there?"

"I think so," she replied, looking up from the camera she was reviewing footage on.

The banter was light as the took the elevator down. A deep pit had formed in Dionne's stomach that she was promptly trying to ignore. She had a sense of overwhelming dread at the fact he was going to be down there. Her list of players she'd yet to interview was getting narrower and narrower, she knew it was only a matter of time before she had to chat to him on camera. Today wasn't going to be the day, if she could help it.

When they reached the sheds, Herbie insisted they go through a player-only side door. "You don't wanna get mobbed by all the friends and family, do you?"

He once again held the door open for them. What was on the other side was something Dionne had not excepted to bare witness to that night. As soon as she entered the room, her eyes landed on someone standing in the middle of their room with their muscular back exposed. Against her will, her eyes moved down the broad frame to the exposed (and very toned) backside of the person.

Patty let out a loud yell as he turned to see the intruders, yanking a towel off the bench in order to cover himself. It was pretty fruitless when they'd already seen everything. "Fuck," he grunted, towel locked in a death grip.

"I. . . I. . ." Dionne was floored.

Behind her, Herbie was pissing himself laughing. The Brit walked by his ex teammate, clapping him on the shoulder. "Good game tonight, mate," he said before disappearing through the other doors.

"You're a cunt," Patty muttered, smacking the back of Herbies head.

Korra had let the door to the change rooms shut, deciding being traumatised wasn't worth her job. She opted to wait in the hallway until the coast was clear. That left Patty and Dionne alone for the first time since Melbourne. Suddenly her legs felt wobbly.

"It's not like it's anything you've not already seen," Patty mumbled, knotting the towel so it'd stay in place as he reached for a hairbrush from his locker.

"Let's not go there," she snapped, hands on her hips as she stared at the wall behind him. She would not stare at his bare chest even if her eyes were positively drawn to it. Dionne decided to inspect every imperfection on the wall; from the chipped paint to the dusty posters. 

Patty scoffed. "Right because we're just never talking about it, apparently."

Still refusing to look at him, she said, "exactly."

"Fucking bullshit, it is," he grumbled.

Dionne rolled her eyes. "You know what, fuck this," she turned around to leave the way she'd come. She didn't know why she'd stayed for as long as she had.

"You're always walking away," he called out.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She spun around quickly, eyes narrowing. He'd replaced the towel for a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers while she'd been turned around. She tried not to stare, keeping her venomous look only aimed at his face. 

Patty looked her up and down before saying. "It means you never even gave me a chance."

"I don't have time for this," she huffed, throwing her arms up before storming out. Her hair swayed behind her as she yanked the door handle open.

"Maybe don't throw yourself at me in a club again! It sends a confusing message," he shouted behind her, cringing as she slammed the door on the way out.

Dionne brushed right past Korra, her blood boiling. "Tell Timothee I've gone home sick," she said over her shoulder before disappearing down the winding hallway towards the exit. She couldn't be here any longer. She knew the consequences but frankly, she couldn't give a single fuck right now. As he always did, he'd burrowed right under her skin and she needed a burning shower to boil him out.

💌

🌸 karla yaps !

comment songs you'd put in a dionne + patty playlist

anyways, this felt kind of melodramatic & the dialogue felt really stiff but fuck it we ball. according to my plans, there should be 15-16 more chapters left !!! which sounds like a lot when i write it out but we're well over the halfway point nowwww

remember to spam spam spam that comment section, i thrive off ur reactions

unedited cuz i'm lazy <3