[ un ] in which marc is rejected 

Ashley leaned closer towards the roof of her one story house that she shared with her housemate Valerie. She was perched on an array of flower pots which tumbled back from side to side as she reached higher and higher. "Almost got it." She murmured, stretching as high as possible, eyes fixated on one thing.

A red rose.

It was very uncommon to find a rose in the two friends' house, let alone her drainpipe. Ashley, as well as her friend Valerie seemed to have a black thumb; they loved flowers but seemed to kill most, if not all flowers she had ever grown in her garden. Ashley was in charge of picking the lone red rose out of the drainpipe, so it could be pressed and preserved and put into history as the only flower that had ever survived in the house of Greene and Flores, as ironic as their last names were.

Ashley took in a deep breath and tried one last time to reach the flower; she reached out a arm and grabbed the rose, pricking herself on the stem. She yelped from the pain and shifted her weight quickly, causing the tower of flowerpots to fall over, sending Ashley sprawling to the ground, only, she did not land on the hard sidewalk but rather on a tan, startled, and incredibly handsome man.

Ashley leapt off the man quickly, exclaiming an array of apologies as she watched him pick himself off the ground. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" She exclaimed, offering him a hand, which he grabbed, smiling gratefully.

"Oh no, it's alright. It's been a while since I've been knocked down. It was about time it happened anyway." The young man assured her.

She shook her head quickly. "No, no! It's not alright!" She said, examining the cut he had acquired during his fall to the ground. Ashley knelt beside him, ignoring the fact that his blood was staining her white Real Madrid jersey. She looked up fearfully into his eyes, afraid she hurt him.

But when Ashley's eyes met the his they immediately narrowed and she hopped up almost as quickly as she had bent down. She crossed her arms over her chest, gave him a final glance, and stomped into the house.  She slammed the door behind her, ignoring her friend's protests.

"Why aren't you helping him?" Valerie gasped, outraged. "Do you know who he is? He's Marc Bartra."

Ashley whirled around quickly. "I'm not helping that guy." She spat angrily dragging her best friend over towards the window. 

Valerie pulled back the flowered curtain, peering out into the bright afternoon sun, then she quickly snapped the curtain closed. She looked at Ashley, her brown eyes widened in shock. "But its Marc Bartra!" She whined.

Ashley sighed. "Maybe I should give him band-aid. But I honestly think we should let him bleed to death." She added, mumbling.

Valerie gave her friend a bright smile before swatting her with a dishcloth playfully. "Go help him, you did practically kill him." Her friend giggled.

The girl wearing a Real Madrid jersey grabbed a band-aid and walked back outside, stomping over toward the injured young man. "Oh, you decided to help me now?" He asked sarcastically, pulling off his shirt to stop the trickle of blood sliding down his tanned leg. Ashley was distracted momentarily by his glistening muscular build and had to stop herself from staring as she moved the cotton t-shirt out of the way to examine the damage. She unwrapped the bandage and placed it over the wound, giving his leg a good smack.

"There you go, Bartra. Now get off my lawn." She snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

"So you do know who I am. Typical Real Madrid fan. You'd rather have me bleed to death over being a compassionate human being." The Barcelona footballer replied, annoyance lacing every word.

"Whatever. You ruined my jersey. I'd call us even." She said, gesturing toward her stained Cristiano Ronaldo jersey.

Marc rolled his eyes. "That jersey was already shit before you bought it. You really are a traitor, huh?" He added, "You live in Barcelona, yet you support the enemy. That's the ultimate form of betrayal." Though his words sounded silly in a dramatic way, he was being completely serious. He thought it the biggest betrayal possible when someone was capable of supporting a team that wasn't from their hometown. Especially, in the girl's case, when the team was their home team's biggest rival in football. 

Ashley glared at him before something red caught her eye on the sidewalk. It was the rose, laying crushed and defeated upon the sidewalk. She let out a cry before kneeling down on the sidewalk, cradling the damaged flower in her hand like a tragedy had just occured.

The footballer walked up behind her, "What's wrong?" He asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She sighed, "My friend Valerie and I have been trying to grow roses forever, or any kind of plant really. This was our only one and now it's ruined...because of you." She finished quickly, picking herself off the ground. "You Barcelona footballers have to kill everything beautiful in the world, including football. Don't you?"

"While I hardly agree this is my fault let me make it up to you, I'll pay for a new shirt and a new rose. But, there is one condition, I want you to be at Camp Nou this weekend." He told her.

Ashley brought her bright eyes up to meet his. "What?" She asked, flicking her long hair off her shoulder. "Why would you want to take me out to watch you lose?"

Marc shrugged, "I guess I have a thing for bitchy little Madrid fans."

She rolled her eyes. "As tempting as that sounds," She began with a sarcastic undertone to her voice, "I can't and I won't date you."

"Come on." He insisted. "Go out with me."

"No." She refused once more.

"Why not?" He asked, hoping to get a legit reason in response.

She replied with a simple statement. "Because you're a Barca boy."

"So?" Marc wondered. He didn't see the problem in them dating. Only a dumb football rivalry he was willing to overlook because she was a beautiful and interesting girl. 

"I don't date Barca boys." She finally told him.

Ashley turned around and headed back inside her house, leaving Marc outside by himself. But the Barcelona footballer was determined and he wouldn't rest until she accepted to go on a date with him.

-

the first chapter for barca boys.

i hope you all like it because i really struggled with this one a bit. especially because i wanted to incorporate the conversation from the prologue into the first chapter.

so we have ashley rejecting little marc. 

tsk tsk.

but he won't give up. ooooh. just like the luis fonsi song. "yo no me doy por vencido ( i won't give up ). yo quiero un mundo contigo ( i want a world with you ). juro que vale la pena esperar un suspiro ( i swear waiting for a sigh is worth it ). fue una senal del destino ( it was a sign of destiny ). no me canso, no me rindo, no me doy por vencido ( i won't get tired, i won't quit, i won't give up ). some of the lyrics don't make sense translated. lol.

anyway, please read and give it a nixe vote.

thank you.

i love you.

-clary xx