TUESDAY WAS A DAY OF NERVES and small doubts slowly seeping their way into my brain. I had reread my article enough times that I could probably recite the majority of it from memory. I knew it was good. Trent told me it was good. Lily and Jess read it and liked it (though they are impressed whenever I string together any sentence).

It was good. A good article.

Yes.

Right.

I swung the door to Trent's office open and he startled slightly before shaking his head, as though he'd been expecting me.

"Hello, Sabrina," he said, his voice laced with humor.

"Is the article too long?" I asked.

He placed the papers he was reading down on his desk and looked at me squarely. "It's a little late to change anything."

"Yes, I know that," I concealed my anxiousness and impatience with a sigh. "But, is it like... too long?"

He gave me a look, whether it was for my truly redundant choice of words or if the question was just that dumb, I was unsure. "You've written a good, analytical article," he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm not sure how many more people need to tell you that before you believe it."

"Yes, okay, the article is good," I swiped some hair out of my face as I tried to figure out how I wanted to word what I said next. "I'm just not sure if I really needed to drag on about the total assists of both Richmond and Manchester City for as long as I did. I mean-"

"Sabrina, stop reading it," Trent said. "I won't sit here and tell you that you've written a good article, because you already know that. Close out the documents. Go home. Spend time with your family."

I take a brief second to consider the fact that he had pretty much just told me to 'get a life' before exhaling and nodding. "You're right."

He shot me a smile, one of the rare genuine ones he gives me, before saying, "I know I am. Good night."

"Good night," I said, closing the door behind me and walking back to my office to gather my things.

☕︎︎☕︎︎☕︎

Wednesday morning, I immediately woke up and logged onto The Independents website. I scrolled past the first few articles of the day before reaching the 'sports' section. With a shaky breath, I read the top article.

Holy shit. Mine was top article.

"OH MY GOD!" I squealed, effectively waking up my roommates.

"It's out!" Lily exclaimed, skidding to a halt outside my bedroom door that she threw up.

"Okay Miss Published Journalist," Jess half-yawned. Never a morning person.

This felt like a dream. I kept looking back at my phone screen and re-reading my headline and my name under it. My roommates hurried off to start their respective days and I was getting ready for mine when my phone buzzed.

Trent Crimm

[7:55 AM]

Trent:
Good morning Sabrina. Congratu-
lations on your article!

There's a Richmond press conference
today at 11. You will be shadowing me
again

I once again did a slight-shriek of excitement. My first published article and another press conference! I typed out a quick response before finishing getting ready and heading to my usual coffee place.

Sabrina:
Thank you, Trent!

And okay! I can't wait!

While in line for coffee, I once again ran into Colin. We chatted for a little, him congratulating me on my article (only after I told him about it, but still).

"Some of the lads were chatting about it in my group chain, I think," Colin said, grabbing his tea and some kind of pastry from the barista. "Said it was very good, despite the headline being a bit misleading."

I shrugged, smiling slightly to myself. I could feel my ego growing. "It's not misleading. Richmond has a noticeably negative pattern of behavior and I provided a solution."

Colin rolled his eyes jokingly at me. "Yeah, yeah. I hope I have a mention in there?"

"Briefly."

"Better than nothing!" Colin beamed, seemingly flattered that someone would write about him as if he wasn't a professional footballer. "I can't wait for Jamie to see it."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "I doubt he could read it."

"Woah," Colin said, his voice clearly sarcastic. "I thought you two were best mates?"

"Oh yeah," I responded, continuing his bit. "The whole drink dumping thing is like an inside joke. My pet name for him is 'prick.'"

Colin laughed and we said goodbye. When I went to grab my coffees, I noticed a wallet on the counter. As I was about to open my mouth to tell the barista, I saw the ID inside of it. Colin Hughes.

"Idiot," I muttered jokingly under my breath. I glanced over to see if he was still outside, but he was gone. Damn, he move quick.

I pulled out my phone

Colin

[8:32 AM]

Sabrina:
[attached an image]

Might keep this

Colin:
Ahhh shit

I'd turn around but I promised
Isaac I'd pick him up

Sabrina:
Dw I'm going to the press con-
frence. I'll stop by the locker
room after and give it to you

Colin:
Okay stalker fan

Sabrina:
I wasn't kidding about keeping
it.

☕︎︎☕︎︎☕︎

This press conference, although it wasn't my first, still brought with it a bundle of excitement that coursed through my body. I felt more like a real reporter in that moment than ever before. I was officially a published journalist, sitting amongst other published journalists.

Beside me, Trent flipped through some of his notes written in a very impressive shorthand language I'd yet to master.

"Did you read that article in The Independent this morning?" One of the men in front of me asked who I assumed to was his colleague. I immediately perked up. Was it my article?

"The one about Jamie Tartt? Calling him Richmond's problem and solution or something?" His colleague responded. The first man nodded and my I silently held my breath and tried to play it cool as I waited for them to continue their elaboration. "It was interesting. Think whichever bloke wrote it made a real point."

"Yeah. Maybe Lasso should take some tips from that guy," the first man remarked.

My eyebrows furrowed slightly, but I wasn't surprised. Being assumed a man was not a new development. I'd learned over the years that sports journalism is not the most woman-friendly space. I've been called a 'bloke' or 'guy' more times than I could count. However, it still stung slightly.

Trent seemed to be about to say something, but Ted walked in and the place exploded with questions. As would be expected with Richmond fresh off their first win of the season.

A few questions bounced around before Ted called on Trent. He stood up with the confidence a reporter could only gain after years of experience and began.

"Trent Crimm, The Independent," Trent started. "Is it safe to assume that Jamie Tartt will be back on the pitch next match?"

I nodded along in my seat, as if I had any control of the questions my mentor asked. Yes, Jamie was a prick. Yes, I wrote an article about how he encapsulates the largest part of Richmond's problems. And, yes, I absolutely think he should be back on the pitch next game.

"Well, you know what they say when you assume, Trent," Ted responded, pausing and looking around the room before continuing. "You make an... arse out of you and me."

I laughed lightly, being charmingly reminded of my Grandpa and Dad with that kind of joke. Ted and I made eye contact and he pointed at me with a smile.

"But are you honestly going to keep your best player on the bench?" Trent asked, pointing at Ted with his pen. Again, I nodded along.

"Well, that depends on Jamie. He knows what we need from him," Ted replied. He then moved on and I heard the door in the back of the room open. I turned around just in time to see Tartt exiting the room in his typical dramatic flair.

The press conference continued for about half an hour more before we all began to disperse.

"I'll meet you back at the office," I told Trent as we walked out of the conference room. "I need to return something to Colin."

Trent gave a questioning look. "Hughes?" He asked, once again clearly confused about my relation to Richmond players.

"Yeah," I said, electing to not go into detail and leave him confused. "I'll see in a bit."

Trent waved goodbye, clearly still confused, and I pulled out my phone and made my way down the hallway. Since I got lost here during my first press conference, I remembered the route to the locker room fairly well. It was, after all, where I had the displeasure of meeting Jamie Tartt.

Colin

[11:45 AM]

Sabrina:
Press conference is done

Coming to locker room now
With your wallet (all money
still in there, dw)

Please have everyone be
clothed whe

My text sent prematurely as I suddenly crashed into someone. I backed away from them and immediately started my normal apology routine.

"Oh my god, I'm so-" I stopped short when I glance up and saw the literal last person I wanted to see. Because of course I did. I swore if I listened hard enough I could hear God laughing at me.

"Tartt," I remarked, now no longer feeling the need for a long apology. I took in his outfit. Typically, I saw Tartt wearing a jersey or a practice fit. The one time I saw him in the bar (see: The Drink Incident), he was wearing a Richmond practice shirt and black joggers. However this time, he wore a white shirt and a black leather jacket over top of it. He had swapped the joggers for jeans. Jeans who he'd hugged his crotch and butt enough that I had to make an active effort to not look past his chest area.

If he was anyone else, I maybe would've thought he looked good. But Tartt was Tartt, and he was also wearing this when he clearly had practice beginning soon.

"Lewis," he said, stuffing his hands in his jacket pocket. "I saw your article." His voice was tight, as if he was anxious but attempting to play it off as if it were nothing. And maybe it was nothing and I was just reading into it way too much.

"Look who finally learned my name," I said, ignoring his voice. "And congrats on reading! I know it's hard for someone whose brain capacity is largely taken up by his own vanity and ego."

Tartts eyes darkened just enough for me to roll my eyes. I really didn't need to talk to him right now. I just wanted to return Colin's wallet and dip.

"It's fucking bullshit, by the way," He said. His tone was an angry I'd only heard from players on pitches and I briefly understood the boys in my high school who claimed to play sports just to get out their aggression. "Do you even watch the games? I'm the best one on the team. Without me they would be done for. I can't be Richmond's problem."

"Did you read the article?" I asked, tapping my foot impatiently as annoyance flooded into my voice. "I said that you were the best on the team. There's no doubt about that. However, you don't operate on a team level. You play a personal game."

Jamie removed his hands from his pockets, seemingly done pretending to be chill and I continued my rant.

"If you got your head out of your ass on the field and started playing a team game, maybe you'd win some more. When the best player starts making that extra pass every now and again and communicating with his damn-teammates, the rest of the team is sure to follow suit," I explained. How could stand there and accuse me of writing 'bull shit' when he clearly hadn't even read my dam man article?

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Lewis," Tartt said, his voice low.

"Maybe start winning some games and prove me wrong, then. Bench warmer."

I regretted that as soon as it left my mouth. Taunting Tartt seemed a bit too far. He opened his mouth to say something as I opened my mouth to back pedal, but the locker room door swung open and interrupted us.

"Sabrina!" Colin exclaimed. "Please give me my wallet. I owe Isaac 15 dollars."

I looked down at my and and saw his wallet still sitting there. "Oh. Right," I said, handing it over.

"And Jamie, get in here," Colin shoved Tartt's shoulder as a motion to go into the locker room.

"I don't know," Tartt said as the locker room doors closed. "My leg hurts."

My hand unintentionally flexed and un-flexed. Jesus, what a day. And it was barely even lunch.

A/N

Heyyy guys. I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in so long. School had really been kicking my ass and December-February are really just my worst months. However! I'm back! So consider this a late Christmas present (posting this at like 1 AM on the 26th)

Thank you for all the love and support! Pls remember to comment and vote if you enjoyed