[ twenty two ]
[ twenty two ]
Suddenly, Mariluz felt as though the weight of the world were on her shoulders. There would be thousands of eyes on her, and there was a chance she would disappoint everyone. As they all walked out of the locker room and out towards the tunnel, she felt her heart drop. She could see the sunlight at the end of the tunnel and turned around to go back. She had decided to be the last one to go out in case she changed her mind, which was exactly what she was now doing. In front of her was Ricardo and then Mesut. The benched players had already gone out to take their places.
As she hurried for the nearest exit, she collided with someone. She looked up to see it was her brother Marc. "Sorry," She told him, trying to sound as manly as she could.
"Don't worry about it." He assured her, though he didn't seem too pleased. Gesturing towards the end of the tunnel where the other players were leaving her behind, he informed, "The field is that way, mate." And then trying to sound encouraging when he saw the new player's nervousness, he added, "I know the debut is difficult, but just go out there and do your best." He gave her a small smile.
Mariluz smiled at him. "Thanks Marc."
Her smiled dropped instantly as did his when she spoke in her regular voice, added to that was the fact that she knew his name. "Hey...you sound just like..."
"I have to go." She turned and headed out towards the field.
As the Madrid footballer hurried away from Marc, the Catalan was able to see the back of his opponent's jersey. There was surprise flashed across his face when he saw the name and number: M. Bartra 15.
.
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.
.
Cristiano sat on the bench with the rest of the substitute players with his arms crossed over his chest in annoyance. The Portuguese player sulked, he wasn't meant to sit out. He was meant to always be on the starting eleven. He hated the fact that Mourinho had decided to bench him in order to fulfill his petty revenge plans against Mariluz. Sure Cristiano wasn't fond of her either, but this was something they shouldn't mess with. At a clasico, everything was on the lie, mainly honor. Cristiano knew the team would never live it down if they were to lose against their biggest rival.
"I can't believe Mariluz gets to be on the starting eleven and I don't." He huffed.
Sitting by his side was the team's coach, who had caught what Cristiano had muttered. His eyebrow raised in suspicion. "Did you just call Bartra Mariluz?" He wondered.
"No." Cristiano quickly scoffed. "You're old age doesn't let you hear right anymore, Mou."
"I heard you just fine." The coach told him.
The Portuguese footballer. Why was he covering her up now? He could just as well let her secret out and get put back into the game. He wanted to be on the pitch. But Mariluz was Marcela's friend, and if he ever wanted a chance with her, he couldn't be mean to her best friend.
"I said Michael." Cristiano assured.
"So Bartra's actually a girl..." He mulled the new information over. The moment he had heard Cristiano's words was when everything seemed to fall into place. Everything made perfect sense. "I knew there was something off about him. At first I suspected he was gay, but this makes so much more sense."
On the field, the players stood out in their respective lines to listen for a small speech about violence at football games. Next, the captains spoke of the importance of keeping the game clean, especially games like El Clasico. Before going to their starting positions for the kick off, the players shook hands. When Bojan reached Mariluz, he shot her a smirk after whispering to her, "I hope you don't mind we'll be crushing your team today, Luz."
"Oh, shut up Bojan." She rolled her eyes at him.
"What happened to non-violence at clasico games?" He pointed out, amused.
"Ugh, just move along." She brought her hand up to pat him on the shoulder a bit too hard.
When Marc reached her for the handshake, he too had something to say to Mariluz. Leaning close to her, pretending he was going to give her a hug, he instead whispered into her ear, "Who are you and why are you going arond saying we're brothers? I don't have a brother with the same initials as I do. There's only Eric and Mariluz."
"I haven't said anything." Mariluz swore, adding, "I don't even know you."
Marc pulled away, but eyed the member of the accusing team suspiciously. He moved on to the next player when he realized he was holding up the line.
After the captains took a photograph shaking hands, the players found their starting positions on the field and waited for the whistle that would begin the most important game in Spanish football.
.
.
.
.
With two minutes left before half-time, the score between the two teams was a nil to nil draw. But there had been plenty of fouls. Mariluz, being the smallest of the Madrid players and being the only one at the front was being pushed around by Barcelona's defense. Ricardo and Mesut had both gotten yellow cards, coming to her defense.
The referee blew his whistle at the forty-five minute mark, signaling the half-time break and Mariluz could feel the pressure building. She had to score in her debut or the fans would never accept her. She knew many of them already didn't like her due to the fact that Ronaldo had been benched to make way for her. She made her way back to the locker room with slumped shoulders, hoping the second half of the match would be better.
Mourinho followed into the locker room, ready to make some changes to his starting line-up. He shut the door behind himself and walked into the middle of the room, looking down at a clipboard as he spoke. "Good first half, boys." He said to them. Looking up for a moment at Mariluz, he added, "You were absent on the field, Bartra. You're on the bench for the second half and Cristiano is back in. Hopefully, he can save us from this tragedy you're causing."
"But Mourinho," She began to complain. "Give me another chance."
"And why would I do that?" He asked, showing her a knowing smirk."I gave you a chance to show your skills and you did nothing." It was as though he knew she was hiding something. But Mariluz was sure no one else knew.
Only Marcela, Mesut, and...
Cristiano.
"You're on the bench Bartra and that's my final decision." He stated and left them to submit his request for Mariluz to be substituted on the field by Cristiano.
Mariluz sat on one of the benches in the locker room and put her head in her hands. She had no way to suspect what was coming next. With the information Mourinho had in his hands, he had a plan to expose Mariluz in front of everyone.
-
yahhhh. update. sorry i took ages to post something on here. for some reason, as i reach the end of a story, i lose my ability to create new ideas. maybe because i never want the story to end, haha. anyway, i hope you all like the new chapter. thank you so much for reading and supporting my many stories.
i love you.
-clary xx
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