Reader is Trent Alexander Arnold's twin sister. The two have been inseparable since childbirth, more so now when Reader is fresh out of university looking for a job, crashing at her brother's place whilst doing so. One day Reader gets a job offer that she cannot refuse, however it would mean working for her brother's biggest rival in football, Ruben Dias.

Enjoy!

It was another slow day at the shop. You were sagging over the front desk with a lollipop in your mouth, thinking about anything better that you could be doing with your time. Sleep, for example.

"You're still here?" A pair of high heels were heard emerging from the back. Jenny popped up looking gorgeous than ever, with her lips painted red, matching the color of her hair that was laid down over one shoulder. "I thought Mrs Arnold said that you'd be leaving this morning?"

"I'm not going to Liverpool." You muttered.

"No? Why not?"

Since her newfound free time due to retirement, Grandma often took the train to Liverpool whenever Trent and his team played a home game at Anfield. By now it had become tradition. A tradition that you were perhaps expected to follow, but had a long list of reasons not to. Number one:

"Trent and I aren't really speaking." You said.

"It's that bad huh?"

Jenny put on her coat and went over to the coffee machine. She returned to the front desk with her cup.

"I dunno." You muttered. "It's not like I can't call him and he won't pick up. It's more me ignoring him for what he did to me."

"You mean telling your parents the truth?"

"Right. What a dick move that was."

Jenny shook her head, a smile on her face. "I don't know, Y/N. I think that deep down your brother just worried about you not really having a job or a place to stay. He was fair to let you crash at his for a while, that's what family is for. But it was also fair of him to kick you out when he felt like you weren't pulling your weight. I mean he was basically providing for someone who should be able to provide for themselves, don't you think?"

"What if I don't wanna be a provider?" You protested, with a pout on your lips. "What if I wanna be pampered and taken care of whilst my rich husband works and I sleep all day. Isn't there a name for that? I should have studied that shit instead of marketing. What's it called again?" You snapped your fingers for the answer to come to you.

"A housewife?" Jennifer said.

"Exactly!" You pointed. "I wanna be a housewife, not a provider. Trent ruined that for me. He took my dream."

"Um, I'm pretty sure being a housewife involves more than sleeping and being provided for."

"Really, like what?"

"Well, aren't they supposed to raise children and take care of them?"

"Huh? I don't want kids."

"Right." Jennifer sighed, realizing that you had your own logic applied to the matter. "Either way I was thinking about closing down early today, if that's okay with you?"

"What for?" You frowned.

"Well, a couple of friends and I were thinking about catching the game in a bar not too far from here. You didn't think your grandma would hire someone who isn't a Liverpool fan, did you?"

"Sounds like grandma." You chuckled.

"Yeah, so feel free to join us. If not, we could always keep the shop open, with you tending the front desk."

You shook your head. "No, you're right. We should close early and catch the game instead.

"Great, I'll finish packing up some boxes in the back, if you wanna get started on sweeping the floors?"

"Gotch cha', I'll see you in a bit."

You grabbed a broom, ready to sweep like those dusty children in that play that Grandma used to take you and Trent to see as kids. Fiddler On The Roof, it was called. You and Trent used to really enjoy spending an evening at the theater, especially back in the days when your grandpa was still alive.

You were halfway done sweeping when the bell to the front door rang and a young woman entered the shop.

"Um, hello?" You frowned. "The sign outside says we're closed."

"Hello." The woman smiled. "I'm looking for someone, a stylist that I've been told works here."

"Um, you got the wrong shop madam. We only do fittings here, not makeovers."

The woman took your words politely, batting her long eyelashes. "But I've been told that a stylist works here and a really good one at that. I'd like to meet with her please, my client demands it."

You rolled your eyes. "We'll there's only three people working here. One is me and a sixty-two year old lady with a bad hip."

"And the other one?" The lady looked you up and down, not at all impressed with what was presented to her. "Who is the third person?" She asked.

You sighed, but leaned on your broom, shouting for Jennifer. She emerged from the back to the young woman's obvious relief.

"Hello, you must be who I'm looking for."

"Um, hi." Jenny smiled, shaking the hand that the invidious young woman offered. "Do you mind if we talk in private?" She said, looking back at you with your lollipop in your mouth.

"Um, sure, why not."

The two of them disappeared into the back office but returned a couple of minutes after. By then you had swept the floors and all that was left to do was close down and lock the shop.

"What did she want?" You asked Jenny, seeing as the young woman left with her tail between her legs.

"I dunno." She shrugged. "Something about a job, but I told her that she must be mistaken because I'm not a stylist."

"Hmm, strange. "

"Yeah, either way, are you ready to go?"

"Sure. The bar is only down the street right? I might as well leave my things here, no?"

"If you want." She shrugged.

You did exactly that. The two of you were then off to the bar, a fancy and quite posh place. But apparently Jenny and her friends hung out there all the time. They were quite different from you, a different sense of humor etc. It made you feel left out, until they found out who your brother was of course. People naturally paid more attention to you once they knew that you had a twin brother who played football in the highest league in England. Same thing happened at university, making it hard for you to tell which friends liked you for you and which ones didn't. It all showed itself during your years of crashing at people's houses. In a way you saw it as a test of friendship. A test of who would put up with you the longest. So far the winner was Trent. Perhaps that's why him wanting you out, hurt the most.

********************************************

You lit the flashlight on your phone upon returning to the shop to grab your things. The night was still young and Jenny and her friends decided to head for another bar after the game. They insisted you'd come with them, however you declined the offer, saying you were tired from a day of work.

"Stupid bag, where are you?" You were looking for it in the dark. Why you didn't bother turning on the light might have to do something with the fact that you were crying your eyes out like a toddler. Why? You had no idea. It started at the bar. In the bar's bathroom to be specific. The Liverpool match ended with a victory for the home team. Jenny and her friends celebrated with a round of shots, whilst you receive an incoming facetime call from your mother. It was her, your dad and Grandma, surrounded by cheering fans who all celebrated the team's victory.

"We wish you were here honey, hope you're having a great night." She said before ending the call.

For some reason her words and the whole situation made you want to smash a mirror with your fist. You even entered the bar's bathroom, ready to do it. It was an uncontrollable and raging feeling that swept through your body, the ones you used to get as a child whenever you felt rejected or unfairly treated. Doctors and school counselors would blame your tantrums on your ADHD, but for some reason you always blamed your twin brother Trent. It was Trent's fault that the other kids didn't want to play with you. Trent's fault that the adults swept you aside in order to praise your opposite, despite the fact that you were the first one to emerge from the womb. It was all Trent's fault.

Everything.

"Um, are you okay?"

"Aaaaahhhhh!"

Your scream echoed throughout the shop. You turned around to the sound of a man's voice, only to be met with a giant dark shadow lurking by the door.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

You squinted your eyes and let the silhouette of the streetlights reveal his identity. "Ruben?"

He smiled. "Good. You remember me."

Part 4  and 5 are already out on my Patreon for free! (link below)

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