[ one ]
[ one ]
"Can I actually trust you to make me look like a boy?" She asked Marcela.
She was currently standing before Mariluz, adjusting a short haired wig on her head that looked strangely realistic. The next step to make her a guy was to strap her upper body with bandages, in order to keep her breasts concealed.
Mariluz really wanted to see the progress Marcela was making, but having the mirror removed from the room didn't help. Marcela wanted the transformation to be a surprise.
Several hours later, she placed her hands on her hips, a proud smile on her face.
"I think I did a good job." Marcela said.
Grabbing a hand mirror that was faced down on the budoir counter, she picked it up and turned it over to face Mariluz. Her jaw fell open in awe when she saw her own reflection. She looked like a real guy. The clothes Marcela had picked out for her did great to conceal her female physique.
"Michael Bartra is ready for this." Mariluz grinned, having already chosen her boy name.
All she had to do then was find a way to infiltrate the team.
And she knew just how to do it.
.
.
.
.
Her bestfriend Marcela had contacts in the Madrid team because her father had once been a footballer on the team. All she needed to do was call in a favor and Mariluz was in. She was surprised at how quick Marcela had made things happen.
She stood in front of a group of men dressed in their training uniforms, the coach standing behind her. She could feel the burn of their eyes on her.
They were all much taller than her and she wondered if they would notice she was actually a girl.
"From today on, Michael Bartra will be training with us." Mourinho told his guys, "He-"
With a menacing smirk on his face, Sergio Ramos crossed his arms over his chest. "Barta? Like Marc Bartra from FC Barcelona? So he's one of them, is he? A dirty cule."
Anger flashed across her face in an instant, but she tried her best to contain herself. Taking a deep breath, she informed him, "Just because my brother plays for Barcelona doesn't mean I like those guys. I'm a Madrid fan." As much as she tried, her last sentence didn't sound convincing in the slightest.
"How do we know he's not here to spy on us?" Cristiano asked, earning him nods of agreement and glares for Mariluz from the rest of the team.
Mariluz rolled her eyes at him, "Are the fumes from your excessive hair product usage killing your brain cells, Ronaldo? Why would I want to spy on you?"
The rest of the team laughed at her comment, some of them adding sound effect to the moment. "Ohhh!"
Cristiano shot her a death glare, but she responded with a victorious smirk.
"I think we should stop being so judgemental." Another one of them spoke up, his spanish tinged with a light portugese accent. He was a Brazilian named Ricardo, but he was better known as Kaká.
Because he was a Madrid footballer, Mariluz didn't know too much about him, but she knew he was very religious and very well liked by everyone, she also knew he had been the player of the year a couple of years back, even beating Ronaldo and Messi. Marcela had warned her that she could probably find a reason to hate anyone else on the team, but she claimed no one could hate Kaka. Not even Mariluz and her cule ways.
Mourinho clapped his hands together, "Treat him well. He's the nephew of one of my close friends and I want him to feel welcome."
They nodded silently, thought she still saw a pit of anger burning in their eyes.
She knew being around those guys wouldn't be easy.
"Now get to the showers," Mourinho added, "Great practice, men."
The group of sweaty Real Madrid footballers all headed for the tunnel that led into the dressing rooms. Mariluz was going to follow, only to search for her way out of Santiago Bernabeu stadium when the coach stopped her along with Cristiano Ronaldo.
"Yes?" Mariluz asked, trying her best to sound like a boy.
"Will you and Cris please pick up all the supplies?" He asked.
Mariluz nodded, she knew she shouldn't decline if she wanted to stay on his good side. But from beside her, Ronaldo let out an annoyed groan, "Why do I have to do it?" He complained like a child. Typical Ronaldo, Mariluz thought. Just because he's captain of the team he thinks he's excused from doing all the dirty work.
"Because I said so." The coach replied.
"But I did it last time." He moaned.
The coach's lips pressed together to form a while line, clearly not pleased with the star player's complaining. "Sergio and Marcelo picked everything up last time." He pointed out.
"I did it the other day though." He continued.
Mourinho gave him a serious look. "Cris, go out there and help Michael."
"Fine." Ronaldo snapped, stomping a foot on the ground, thorwing a diva tantrum and marched back out towards the pitch.
Mariluz followed behind him and after making sure the coach was nowhere to be found, Ronaldo took a seat on the bench nearby. Mariluz watched him with an annoyed expression on her face. "Hey, Ronaldo, you're supposed to be over here helping me." She placed her hands on her hips in scolding mode.
"That's your job." Ronaldo replied, rather indifferently.
"Its both our jobs." Mariluz pointed out.
Picking up a soccer ball in her hands, she kicked it at him with all her strength. At first, there was surprise flashed across his face. Surprise that the new guy would do that to him and surprise that he had such a strong kick.
Recovering from his initial shock, Cristiano got up from his seat and went to pick up the ball.
"Think you're so tough, Bartra?" He tilted his head up questioningly. "How about a little match right here? You and me."
Mariluz thought about it.
Though she hated Real Madrid, she had always dreamt of being a professional soccer player and beating someone like Cristiano Ronaldo would be the opportunity of a lifetime for her.
With a nod, she replied, "I'll take you on."
.
.
.
.
The two were standing in the middle of the field, faces trained on the other in concentration. Ronaldo held the ball down under his foot, and before Mariluz could even react, he pushed past her, sending her fragile body crashing down onto the ground. it had all happened so fast that she had been left in shock.
She remained there, eyes looking up at the sky in shame.
"Well that was a fail." She muttered to herself.
Ronaldo came back around to stand over her tauntingly. "That's what I thought, Bartra. Know your place on this team and we'll get along just fine."
"You only won because you're huge. You're taller and stronger." She argued.
"Aruments of the weak." He smirked. "Just accept I beat you."
"Because you pushed the fuck out of me." Mariluz spat.
He dribbled the ball in front of her, kicking it up in the air as a form of showboating and letting it bounce off his shoulder before catching it in his hands easily. He knelt down, still towering over Mariluz' still firgure laid out on the grass. If it wasn't for the fact that she played soccer a lot, she would have thought she had broken a bone or something.
The pain in her right elbow was really bothering her.
Letting the ball fall to bounce off her face harshly, causing her to wince, he added, "Pick everything up like a good little Madrid pet."
And he walked off the pitch.
That was when she knew she had made an enemy in Cristiano Ronaldo.
-
sorry this beginning chapter is quite a filler and Kaka only gets one line, but he'll swoop in for the rescue in the next chapter.
it seems like the team already dislikes mariluz, who is pretending to be a boy named michael.
i hope you all liked this first chapter.
thank you so much for reading and supporting.
i love you.
-clary xx
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