Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ava loves football.

She really does.

But-

Okay, this is going to be a retelling of Ava's worst ever football game. It was so bad, infact Ava started to think about prison. Prison sounds.. okay. Sort of like a... suitable retreat. A wellfare of some kind. Pure relaxation.

It's just a room right? With a roomie. And free food. It's all she needs.

She could.. relax, read the books that were laying on her bedside table for a year; with judging looks; always mocking her for not opening them. Maybe she could learn how to crochet (she always wanted to crochet a dinosaur for Diego back in Madrid) and.. fuck knows- draw or something.

She started to really consider it as an option as she was tackled. By her Teammate. „Team. Mate." By definition: „a fellow member of a team."

Ava doesn't know how you can confuse this but hey, some people just aren't the brightest. Her thoughts stopped tumbling as Zoe's studs crashed into her ankle, just as she was just trying to go into dribbling against the midfielder who pulled into the back, sending her flying onto the pitch. Silva's ribs cracked loudly as she crashed into the grass, desperately trying to catch her breath. They both lost complete control of the ball and Zoe muttered a halfassed „sorry, I slipped." and sent her a nasty look as the opponent shot a long pass right over their heads that landed directly on the foot of the winger. Great.

Ava didn't try to get up immediately, no use in doing so as she couldn't be fast enough up on her feet and running to defend. Right now, she had a first class view on the counter attack. She spat onto the pitch, grass and blood splatching on the spot next to her. She wiggled her tongue around in her mouth to find the cause of the iron-y taste, finding it in form of a cut in her cheek. She flinched but slid her tongue over it again anyway. Must've bitten the inside while crashing into the green floor. She mentally cursed her teammate as the disgusting taste filled her senses again.

Zoe was long gone, rushing into a defensive stance. Ava groans and tightens her pony tail. She's been in france for six years now and still feels like absolute crap in this country. She can't even understand these people for fucks sake. She speaks Spanish, Portugese and English but French never fucking clicked for her. After her parents died, she was able to switch from the academy in Madrid to youth teams of professional clubs in France. She was 13 when she first got here, 16 as she made her professional debut at the club she currently is in and now, at 19, after sustaining a really intense and bad injury and only actually playing at this level for one and a half seasons, walks out for the top club in france. However, things have... tough.

The football world likes to call her the new football wonderkid and it absolutely terrifies her down to the bones, even deeper if she'd find the words for this. She's not one to thrive from shit like this. Nope, she is scared shitless. Right now, there is not so much sensation in her play anyway. She's been tackled too much, the enemy clearly focusing on her because she can be so fast you hardly have time to think about your moves. She, herself, tackled way too sloppily today, always just avoiding a card and she can't fucking get behind the defensive line. Everytime she tries to dribble past, there's a foot seperating her and the ball. Everytime she tries to cross, it's deflected or strays too wide. And every goddamn time a long ball is flying towards her, the first touch is terrible and she can't convert it. It's infuriating.

The striker re-tied her laces and rolled her ankle a few times, wincing a bit. That's definitely gonna take a lot of kinetic tape and ice to fix. The physios already know her anyway. They're basically best buddies since she's been in their office more than on the pitch.

Ava decides to stay on the ground a second longer, watching the attack play out technically perfect infront of her. The winger who received the ball perfectly dashed forward almost all the way up to the corner flag, barely covered, and flanked beautifully towards the penalty spot. The striker who tried to volley it, miscalculated and missed. Her team now has covered most of the box but the ball is still in possession by the enemy. The right wing stopped it and waited for Zoe to come try and grab it from her. The number 9 did a little body feint and Zoe completely fell for it (Hah!) as she buckled in the wrong direction and left the opposition player with the ball enough space to slip past her. She tries to finish quck, putting the ball on her strong right but she miss-hits just slightly and Marie (the goalie) dives and directs it into the goal out. Corner. Great.

The ref decides that, now after probably two minutes, is a great time to look at her for any serious injuries but she waves it off anyway and slowly makes her way over to the box, limping a bit. This bitch really hates her guts and it sure as hell ain't one sided. Ava takes her place in the middle, around the penalty spot, exactly as they discussed in training, standing behind an opponent, covering and enclosing her options. She hears her talk some shit but Ava is just standing still, keeping her arms outstrechted. She knows this act by heart.

For years in the younger leagues, that was her best play. Be the annoying one. Talk shit, hold the jersey, step on shoes. But- gracefully. Don't make it punishable. Just, you know. Annoying. Get them to be slower. Get them to throw sloppy passes. Get them to be emotional. Get them to go insane. That's what her Coach always told her, and let me tell you, Ava Silva took this Advice to heart. She was a menace on the pitch. The person in her arms is trying to get free but Ava follows closely and she swears she hears a muttered „Putain". Okay, rude. But..

Ava smirks, that's exactly what she wants.

The Referee whistles and the sets the ball free and their winger takes the shot after lifting the left arm. Ava never understood this act. She knows what it's for, but some people really over do it. Especially since the kicks come never exactly the same. Well- Anyway. It's a mad kick, It flutters slightly, but accurately, into the box, right into Ava's reach. The attacker tries to wing out of Ava's reach, stepping forward. Ava let's her, pushing her just slightly because she sees the ball fluttering just behind the attacker. The number 11 apparently took one small step too much, because Ava is easily able to jump up and clear it away with her head. She mentally high fives herself. Success.

Ruby is the designated safeguard of the team and receives the ball around ten meters outside the box. Ava and their own right wing start dashing across the field, hoping to get a perfect counter attack. Ruby had little to no problem dribbling past the two defenders that were closest to her. Both Ava and Zoe were turning up the speed even more to get in a suitable position to receive a pass from Ruby. The blackhaired girl needed to make a decision and decided to pass to Ava instead of Zoe. It's probably impossible but Ava swears she hears Zoe complain over the crowd.

Ava jumps up, let's the ball hit her boot and push it forwards a little, a few feet before the penalty area. Exactly the way she wants; setting it up so that she can out-play the Goalie if needed. Nobody even close to her. However, she feels like showing off today, just for the spite of it. Ava knows she has it in her. Hell, probably everyone else knows. The striker has spend a few months time just shooting from every possible angle until she couldn't get it wrong. Multiple pairs of cleats fell of her feet like dead skin from over usage. She knows she is good. So she just takes an extra tiny step and swings her left leg towards the ball at an angle, hoping to curve it in just right. After the ball hit her foot she just knew.

She knew she was gonna miss.

And she did.

She hit the top corner but so very slightly off that it sprung out instead of into the net.

Fuck.

The crowd lively breathed out an impressed or rather disappointed „Ooh" and Ava hated existing more than ever. Hardly anything feels as bad as missing a pretty much open goal. Her throat closed up and she felt the unwanted body fluid behind her eyes to grow. And, because things apparently can get worse, she saw Zoe starting to stomp towards her. It wouldn't surprise her if she grew red wings and horns and saw smoke streaming out of her nose and ears. Ava can practically hear the boiling whistle.

„What the fuck, Silva!" She yelled. „You had one fucking chance at doing something good and you just do what you always do: Fuck everything up!" The frenchwoman practically spit in her face. If Ava wasn't so annoyed and angry, she might've thought it sounded hilarious with a heavy french accent. She definitely will remember this for future storytelling. Ava, instead of making fun of her, started to think about prison again... weighing her options.. again. You know what? What's life without a little fun. Ava, without using her critical thinking skill, headbutted her teammate.

Full on forehead to forehead. Skull to Skull. Zoe, utterly shocked and, lowkey hurt (Ava's very proud if this) fell to the ground, looking up in shock. Ruby came rushing in to hold them away from eachother because Zoe was already in motion to get up again. Hungry for more drama with Ava. The refs whistles, the surprised gasps from the crowd and the loud screaming of the coach were just background noise. The crowd wasn't the biggest, to be honest. It wasn't sold out, nor was is it some big pretentious stadium. Afterall, it was just a friendly in preseason. That situation is one for the history books. For sure.

Ava turned around towards the center circle and smirked maniacally. Oh how much she loved being a menace. Especially if people expected her to be. The yellow dressed person with the whistle was, at best, utterly confused. Ava couldn't blame her. She doesn't think that they teach you this in ref school. Or do they? She has no idea, honestly. She pulls a card out of her breast pocket and shows it to both Zoe and her. Yellow. Huh. She can live with that.

Everybody on the pitch seems to be settled again and she cracks her neck one time, feeling already exhausted even though it's been just barely 60 minutes and she was hyped to go today. The annoying whistles goes of again and the Goalie kicks the ball into play.

For twenty more minutes everything went fine. Like- exceptionally well. Ava thinks even the coach deems it suspicious.

All went well until...

Yes ofcourse.

Until Zoe.

The enemies were awarded a corner kick. Ava took her step behind one of the strikers in the middle. As always. Ava tried being a menace. As always. Zoe made her way up behind her. That's new.

Zoe, usually, is supposed to be guarding the post. Well fuck that, apparently. Whistle went, Ball flew and the eneny went out of her arms, as fucking always. Zoe, however, decided to be uncalled for, for the third time today and pushed an elbow into her. Very forcefully, by the way. That'll bruise, no doubt. Especially over the scar tissue. Ava toppled over the strikers foot, flailing her arms and she senses her mistake immediately. Footballing rule number 1? Keep. your. hands. to. yourself.

Whoops.

The no11 doesn't hit the ball perfectly, due to Ava legitimately flailing and stepping on and against her. It deflects right onto her outstretched arm, rolls along and goes into the complete different way.

Whistle went, ball stopped and Zoe smirked next to her. A yellow shirt appeared in her sight, pulling out a yellow piece of cardboard followed by a red piece of cardboard. Mh. That's- not optimal. After putting away the cards, Miss Yellow shirt pointed (very dramatically if she's honest) to the penalty spot. Oops.

Ava didn't even turn around another time before walking of the pitch. But.. She is still Ava Silva and she feels like it's her job to hold up a finger over her head. You know which one.

„It's the little victories." She mutteres to herself.

Continuing to walk, she totally ignores the things Coach says to her. Not a single word is registered. She looks around the crowd and sees many little girls right behind the benches. Some had jerseys on, some didn't. A few had signs, ranging from a joke to asking for a jersey. It was a sunday, very sunny, pleasantly warm and early afternoon. Perfect for parents to take their kids for a little bit of fun. And hey, Ava sure as hell made it a lot more interesting. As her eyes stroll across the signs, one relatively close had her name on it, the number 9 and a whole lot of glitter. Like an extraordinary amount. She feels sorry for the parent because that must be stewn all across the house. Ava loves it so much she can't hide her smile.

Looking back over her shoulder, she saw that the coach made a few substitutions, talking angrily with the other coaches, and Zoe walking towards the touchline. Heh.

Ava tried to walk past the girl with her sign. She really does; but she can't. It's too cute. Way too adorable. Unfair, really. She looks around one last time and slips her jersey over her head, bunches it up and throws it to the girl who catches it with a squeak. Her eyes look very smiliar to her sign, shining full of life and glitter. This kid looks towards an older guy to her right and jumps excitedly up and down while the Man nods thankfully, smiling. Ava nods happily and waves goodbye. She isn't really allowed to give away the jerseys, but after today Ava also feels like she is not gonna need a whole lot of those in near future. She will gladly pay the fee for this.

The penantly she caused went in, based on the cheers she can hear erupt while she walks through the tunnel and towards the locker. She feels a little conflicted about the goal, honestly. She decides to leave that bottle of feelings unopened, not ready for more internal turmoil.

Walking through the tunnel clears her head a bit. She feels a little miserable. Not because of the results, more because of her missed goal, her pulsing ankle and throbbing forehead. Life's bad. Ava hates feeling like this. Yellow cards and even Yellow/ Red cards are nothing new to her. Being the menace and all that, you remember. But it still stings. It's her first game. Her first starting, anyway, after the incident.

It wasn't anything spectacular. A bad takle, a proper ankle breaker. She landed wrong, her arm somewhat under her torso as she crashed into the ground and something was definitely not okay. Ava was stretched off, barely conscious, being high of her ass from some pain numbing gas. Only fully coming back to her senses, pretty sparsely clothed and in an all white, sterile room. Lovely memory. Definitely not scary at all.

When she next wakes up, she has a tube down her throat and breathing hurts. Like- somebody set fire to my lungs and its trying to shut itself off kind of pain. Even thinking about it causes her entire torso to feel uneasy. She had a few fractured and one actually completely broken rib, that seemed to have damaged her left lung, causing her lung to collaps. Therefore needing the chest drainage tube thing. The thing she noticed second is her mobility. She can't move properly. She tried to get up and run, to sit up, to use her hand to rip that fucking tube out of her throat, to just fucking move but.. nothing. Not even a scream even- but, guess what, there's a tube down her throat. That whole ruckus atleast got the nurses attention.

After a whole lot of actual screaming and panicking, the doctors tell her what's up. Broken ribs, damaged organs and all that. The tiny detail that Ava would've like them to start with came last: Her Back and Mobility.

Thank fuck, It was not as bad as they initially thought, „just" a swelling within her back. It was caused by blunt force to her lower back. Ava doesn't remember what exactly was swollen, she thinks it was a nerve within her spine but god knows, something was just not the size it was supposed to be.

The thing they did tell her: It was temporary, the area that was hit not vital and the impact not strong enough to damage something irreversibly. The thing they couldn't tell her: How long it was going to take to go back to full mobility.

Not to point out the obvious, but Ava felt frozen. Felt like her whole life was over. Spoiler: It wasn't. But it sure as hell felt like it. Nurses and Doctors had to up the dosis on the benzodiazepines because Ava was becoming hysterical and having panic attacks that really took her out.

Few days went by and Ava slowly regained the feel in her feet and muscles but her mobility was still strongly limited to the point of being wheelchair bound. That was the first time where the doctors could estimate a certain time frame. And it was long. At least a few months of rest because of her broken torso and then, depending on the mobility impediment after those months, a lot of Rehab. She was barely 17 when that happened. And alone. All alone, in a foreign country without her parents. All she had was football, now there was nothing.

Rehabilitation sucked. Sucked ass to be percise. She met her physios after being moved to a bigger club for better possibilities. (The only incredibly kind thing her club has done. Take her in even though she practically is a charity case.) Her physios were Steve, a kind german man who moved here with one of the players of his last club and Maisie, a younger woman who looks „tiny and petite" and all that; but could probably rock your shit. Along with the medical department she tried to get back on her feet. Literally.

And, by some fucking miracle, she did it. Long months of crying, working and living on the edge of giving up, somehow, turned into jogging on grass again. The first time she stepped foot on the green without help she immediately flopped down and sobbed. Steve came worrying over but as she stood over her, just saw her laughing with her whole heart and soul. He quickly laid down next to her and just soaked up the overjoyed atmosphere radiating off of the young girl. It was a great day. For both of them. Probably for the whole medical department.

After that, process came quicker. She jogged and regained her stamina (which sucked. She is very glad she does not have to do that again in nearest future.) She relearned how to shoot and how to dribble. She relearned her reflexes and quick moving, slowly benefiting of her muscle memory. Over a year of pain and desperation finally became lighter and lighter. Throughout the next two months, she started light group training and four months later was fully integrated again. Life felt lighter. She felt a whole lot lighter. The Striker felt like flowing away. And Ava Silva was ready to step onto the pitch again to destroy her opponents.

The brunette is pretty sure that around that time Zoe started hating her. Or- Ava likes to think that she started fearing her. That she is afraid of her standing at the club, afraid of losing something to Ava. Probably also felt annoyed that Ava was some kind of charity, but Zoe surely didn't think much further and looked past the reason Ava was really here. To play. To play good.

She opened the heavy door to the dressing room, benches and hooks placed all along the white walls. Falling into the lock, the door made a loud thudding noise and Ava visisbly deflated. Kicking her cleats across the room caused a line of dirt and grass to follow them. Her socks felt gross on the slightly cold tile floor. Flopping onto the wooden bench, she stretched her legs out and lifted her arms out, tensing and untensing her back. Clearly sore and a little bruised.

Looking around the room, seeing all the bags strewn across the hooks and tiles she mentally congratulated Zoe on winning the battle, because there is absolutely no way in hell that she stays here any longer than she absolutely needs to. Today was her last straw. She's been here for far too long and she'd really, really like to be able to communicate in full sentences soon.

She sighs and pulls the hairtie out of her sweaty hair, ruffling it so it feels a little less disgusting. Her spot is as messy as ever, socks and laces laying everywhere and she fishes around under the bench to grab her bag and take her phone out of it. The slightly cracked screen greated her with a few pop ups from some social media shit or a few games where she forgot to turn of the notification. No real or important messages right now, however. She's sure it won't take long. Around thirty seconds she reckons. While she waits for that, she already puts towels and fresh undergarments out, for her to use after showering. Dreaming about the hot water running down her body as she searches for her shampoo leads to her kicking her phone to the floor again. Neatly folded now, she puts the towels and clothes down to pick up her already vibrating phone. Ah. Okay. „ManageMichael" is calling.

See? Not longer than thirty seconds.

„Okay, yes. I know. Whatever you wanna say: I know. And I am sorry. But can we cut this short? I'm still sweaty and really disgusting." Ava said and already regretted the harsh choice of words. „Yes of course. Let me ask you first: Are you okay?" Michael asked and sounded genuinely soft and concerned. „Some of this looked pretty painful and we don't want you to go into rehab again." He sighed. Ava can hear the worry wrinkle between his eyebrows. Michael was a big part in her journey back to the pitch. She wouldn't be caught dead saying this to him but she couldn't have done it without him. „Yes. Just sore. Michael.." She sighed and let her head rest against the wall. „I want to leave. I know what the club did for me, I know! But I want to live. I want to have fun with this and not be tyrannized by my own teammates." Phone now laying next to her, she went on.

„I will forever be grateful- but fuck! I really really want to leave. It's not only that these girls are lowkey really rude and mean, I can't understand half of it! I'm a person who thrives of bad jokes, man! I can't do that when they don't understand it. And it's preseason, so transfers are not only possible, but rather easy. I know that I'm hard to want for a club but please help me out there, Michael." She finishes and already starts undressing.

It's uncharacteristically silent on the other end and Ava looks at her phone and waits. „Okay. So- There's something I need to tell you." Ava stalls, not sure if she is supposed to already say something. Sje stays silent, hopefully signaling him to go on. „I've been in close contact with your headcoach for a while now and we've put you on the transfer list around three months ago. We've come to the mutual agreement that it's better for you, considering the situation and considering the way you talked to me about it."

„Huh." Ava blurts. „Okay, go on." She continues. „Tony and I both decided to just let offers trickle in and act on it as soon as you really want to change something." That's- oddly considerate. „And? Are there any offers?" She asks, excitedly. Outside, she can hear some cheers again, meaning someone scored something. „Eh.." Michael stuttered. Michael doesn't stutter. „Michael?" Ava pressed. „What did your stuttering mean?" He sighed. Oh no. That's it. Ava's career is over. She is gonna need to study something. Ava will have to concentrate on a job she doesn't like, grow old bitter and bitch about football because she never got to fulfill her dream and then her cat's will eat her dead body 'cause she never made any friends that-

„I think we should talk about this tomorrow over coffee." He said plainly and stopped Ava's internal nightmare. Ava stays silent. Michael sighs and again, she can practically hear the frown. „Go shower, Ava." Silva snorts and says a quick goodbye before trotting to the showers. Coming to a halt infront of the mirrow on one of the walls, she twists her upper body and winces. Jesus fucking Christ. Her whole lower back has adapted a rather unfriendly looking shade of red and already tiny speckles of blue. For this fresh style of skin, Ava wants to highfive Zoe. With a cleat. Studs first, to the face.

Steve was gonna have a field day with her in the after game session. Making quick work of the showering process, she steps into the main room at the same time as some of the team starts to trickle in again. The silence is defeaning in the funniest way imaginable. So, they very clearly lost that game, right? Ava should feel some kind of sorry but after today, she is already thinking about celebrating this loss. Zoe can't loose. It's one of her even worse habits. Ava smiles, knowing she'll be big reasons for this misery.

Nobody really cared for Ava Silva. She didn't really care for them. They played together and that's it. No fake niceties or something like that. Zoe has this team by the balls, so everybody would rather side with her to not get thrown under the bus as well. Which- fair, Ava thinks. She just didn't know that in the beginning and immediately started as the mortal enemy. She didn't sign up to be the sworn arch nemesis of Zoe, but really working against it also seemed worthless. So she plays her part and hey, slowly she's getting really good at that.

Ava is unsure which way her career is currently going. Football is her love. The one true love that was there for her when she needed it most. Always has been there. Since forever had she kicked everything that was kickable and always celebrated when hitting her target, running laps with outstretched arms and holding a fist up into the air. And aside from the academy in madrid, nobody seemed to incorporate Ava into the feeling of a team. She loves the sport itself. The way it's played, the tactics and the physical aspect of it. And she loves the teams behind it. Everyone going crazy when someone scores. Everybody being on the same side when a game is lost or a goal is conceded. Ava always thought that this will come with time and professionalism. Turns out, some professional clubs are more of a kindergarten than the u-12 sides in madrid. Good to know.

However, she always dreamed of winning. Winning competitions, cups and leagues. Winning over hearts and fans. Winning everything imaginable, but never alone. Experiencing this kind of hate and cruelness in the one community she always deemed inclusive, breaks her a little. She just wants to belong. Somewhere. To shine, to thrive with a team instead of against it. She wants nothing more. But believing in it continuously grows to be more difficult.

She groans and bangs her head against the wall as she sits down. Ruby, the only girl who doesn't despise Ava for Zoe's sake, smiles at her politely and nods before vanishing into the steaming shower room. She wouldn't admit it, but her heart feels a tiny bit lighter. Ava puts on a fresh pair of sweats with their team logo on it and slips into her sliders, deciding against a shirt for now because the humid air would absolutely drench this thing in 5 seconds. Ava taps around on her phone for a few minutes, being reminded about the call with ManageMichael and she thinks very hard about what it could mean that the very straightforward, very direct and never mysterious Michael didn't want to tell her over the phone.

Another five minutes tick down on the clock before the coach comes in. The air feels stupidly charged and she is so sure that she can feel tiny lighting strikes sizzling through the room. That is scary as shit. Tony stands there like a disappointed father, hands on his hips and breathing slow but very deeply. He sighs before starting his rant. First on his list is to address Zoe and Ava directly. Both of which retract into their shells like disobedient children now being faced with the consequences. Even Zoe didn't dare to argue when he starts to tell her of.

„What on earth did you think you were doing out there? For fucks sake! You are a team. And not just any team. We are one of the biggest in the fucking world!" He yells, alternating looking at Ava and than at Zoe. „That was embarrassing! Good god! It was fucking unwatchable. You let your emotions carry out on the pitch. You let your personal emotions carry out on the pitch. You are supposed to leave your soul there for eachother, not try to destroy your own goddamn team!" He continues to stay loud and Ava feels like she shrunk into the size of a mouse. Everyone else doesn't even dare to breathe. „Zoe, you even recklessly risked Ava's health on multiple occasions! What are you thinking?!" He looks at the offensive Midfielder and she looks onto her feet, hiding her face like a goddamn coward. Checks out.

„And you!" He turns his body to Ava. „You, without a care in the universe completely self sabotaged this game, pushing our preparations back at least two weeks." He sighs, highly agitated. His blood pressure must be beyond anything Ava's ever seen. „I know what you are capable of but you need to fucking show it! And not use it against us. God fucking damnit." Coach mutteres those last words and pinches the bridge of his nose. „For the rest of you, rest for the day. Right now, emotions are high and nothing good will come of this. We'll analyze tomorrow morning. Take care." He says before leaving the room and slamming the door. This went- better than expected. Ava anticipated her being suspended, maybe being thrown through the wall or being stomped on, who knows. She is going to be suspended anyway because of the redcard but she is glad no additional suspension is hangig in the air.

Ava feels like shit. All she ever fucking wanted was the exact opposite of this. She lets her head hang and groan. You know what? Maybe working in finances might actually not be the worst idea ever. It doesn't matter. She just wants to not be here, in this room anymore. She waits until most of the girls leave on their own, filtering out the room that now only smells like shower. Ava slips into her shirt and pushes all her stuff into the bag, ready to move out of this hell hole as a hand stops her.

Ruby stands infront of her looking incredibly concerned and sorry. A tiny smile jumps around her lips and Ava's worried. Is she about to get murdered or something? This was weird. This never happened before. Zoe probably payed her to eliminate Ava as fast as possible and-

Ruby steps up to her and hugs her. Really hugs her. Hands around the back, squeezig and all that jazz. Ava goes rigid because what the fuck. „I hate that this is happening to you. Nobody deserves this and I really hope you find your way to be happy. You are a good person." She whisperes before pulling back and smiling at her, patting her on the arm once before leaving this room.

Just like that. Leaving Ava in a puddle of uncertainty.

Ava wants to crumble now. Great. That was the first real act of kindness she witnessed from anywhere inside the team in forever. Long months without hugs, without reassurance and love. She misses kindness, affection and... fun, essentially. Fucking hell, she misses Diego the most. She misses Home and her Parents. „Fuck." She sighs and shoulders her bag, walking out of the dressing room feeling like hell on earth.

Ava limbs a little down the hall before stopping at Steve's office for the day. „Come in, Ava." He says and Ava snorts. She didn't even knock. „I saw the game and I can tell you, this session will not be fun." He says sternly and Ava throws herself onto the bench. „Oho, is that a threat, Stevey?" She chuckles. He raises an eyebrow. „A warning, darling." As he rolls up the shirt and starts working on her back, Ava understands. Good lord, she really understands.

Oh fuck.

Chapter Text

Palms down, Ava slammed her open hands onto the table top, startling Micheal intensely. Score!

Ava and Michael were supposed to meet up twenty minutes ago, discussing.. certain recent events. He, against his usual mannerism, seemed completely unaware of time and space. Ava couldn't ever let an opportunity to scare somebody with the spacial awareness of a hound dog go unnoticed.

He flinches and looks up, mortified. „Jesus fucking Christ, Ava!" He shouts and lets his head hang while breathing deep. Once, twice and looks up again, the frown already wedged between his eyebrows. Ava laughs and drops into the chair right infront of his work desk. She feels very heavy right now so her smile fades rather quickly. She looks around the tiny office space. Very buraux-esque. Way too clean for her. She almost feels sterilized just walking in here.

The walls are mostly, exclusively white. No posters, no decorations, hardly any cables, lamps or other utensils hanging around. Just- simple, plain and white. It's almost eerie. With the clear exception of the very sad and lonely looking plant in the corner, that she all so lovingly called „Gergory". Gregory has always been the only source of life this room has seen in decades, probably. It's a great representation of Michael somehow, Ava thinks. At least partially. He would disagree, though. He would argue he is a lot more fun.

Ava doesn't exactly know why but Michael has his own tiny office in the agency building. He is hardly five years older than Ava and usually, all Michael is doing, could be done from home or in a multi-workers-room-thing. His work consists of 99% phone calls and E-mails. Ava once caught a look into his E-Mail account and wanted to cry almost immediately.

He must be pretty important to them if they are paying rent for this sad piece of a room. If you asked Ava how to describe what Michael does, she would say that he is is like- a contact master. Seriously, if you have any issue with legitimately anything, he has a man for you. Problems with your car? Call Michael. Single and ready to mingle? Call Michael. Want to adopt a dog, or a child for that matter? Shoot him a text. Need to get rid of someone? Probably shouldn't call Michael, but she's sure he'd have somebody to help you.

Ava spins a little in the fun spin-y chair Michael has here for his clients. „What were you doing that got you so concentrated, anyway? Manage Michael duties?" She asks and Michael sighs. Hatred is all Michael feels towards the Name. Ava's busy trying to get herself dizzy while looking up at the ceiling, finding it infuriating how the inbuilt lamps are not symmetrical. „Trying to save your career." He answered and shut her down in one sentence. She stops spinning and breaths deep. He definitely counts that as a win. 1-1. Ava groans, sits upright, stretching slightly since her back is still a little sore and scoots the chair closer, waiting for Michael to start.

When he doesn't right away she gets impatient, or anxious, really. Having already waited a whole day for this and not really knowing what she will get out of this whole situation. „What'cha got, Manage Michael." She says and taps her fingers against the hardwood in a hasty rhythm. He throws her a glance, clearly stating his disapproval of the nickname and pinches the bridge of his nose. Not good, she tells herself.

„Okay, so I'll have to work as a stripper now or what?" Ava jokes, very uneasy with that whole thing happening right now. Michael lifts an eyebrow, clearly not taking her shit. She absolutely can't blame him. Rambling while nervous is one of her worst habits. She dug herself multiple holes with that stupidness, always making things worse instead lf easing them up. „Not that there's anything wrong with that- It- It's just I'll probably suck at it- Or you know what? Maybe I'd actually be not half bad- I- I do have a good body control you know? Maybe I-" Ava sees Michael look at her sternly, dead serious. „Yeah, okay. I'll shut up." He nods in appreciation. Asshat.

Ava whines. She was never good with the formalities of football. She always just wants to play and deliver, never caring, or more like knowing, too much about everything else surrounding club-football. Ava just recently learned about all the detailed conditions that were written in the contract she signed. The striker is surely about to go into cardiac arrest, she can't fucking deal with things where she has no idea how they might turn out. Her hair is for fucking sure turning grey at the roots right now.

Even though her career has been anything but great so far and football feels less and less enjoyable, the striker would hate to lose this- thing. Understandably, she presumes. Michael closes his laptop and pushes it aside gently. He folds his hands and Ava has never been surer of the uncertainty that comes with that job and career path. She fiddles with her hands. Here we go.

„Okay.." He starts and the strikers heart drops right into the floor. „Let me start at the beginning." Michael starts and ruffles his short, blonde hair a little. „Since you've been signed under my wing, multiple clubs have explained their interest in you. No one of real interest to you, however. After your injury we took you off the transfer list, so no real and serious offers could come in." He explains, sitting very relaxed. She can follow him so far, though. So, that's good, Ava thinks. He sighs deeply. You know what? Nevermind. „Now I need you to listen to me and not be mad, or anything." That's new. Michael never „or anythings"s anything.

„After we, Coach and I, saw how you were treated and how the team dynamic was going, we knew we had to change something. For your and the clubs sake. So I asked around, we put you up for immediate transfer and waited. We should've done so with your knowledge but I knew that you'd wanted to leave. So I did it in hopes of having something proper before season started. And maybe so that you can have some options." Ava deflated a little in her seat. She never wanted to be an inconvenience like this. This seems unnecessary. „You following so far?" He asks, sensing her change in demeanor. She nods.

„A few weeks ago, after your first few minutes on the pitch, I got a call." Ava's ears perked up. She remembers that game. A video of her fighting with the second Goalie in the tunnel made the rounds on Instagram. „It was a scout from an english club. He told me he saw it all." Great. What a first impression. That game itself particularly rough, the striker recalls. Ava has had a terrible morning that day. Losing her cleats last second (she sure as hell didn't loose them. You could probably ask Zoe were they were) and needing to use completely new ones for the warm up led to blisters and wounds along her achilles heel. It was the first real time she made the roster after her injury so she was really fucking nervous and she constantly bickered with their second goalie because she just couldn't shut up. After the game, it escalated a little and turned into a screaming match inside the tunnel. Some Media guy caught it on camera and it turned into a show for everyone to enjoy. She's sure that was very entertaining.

Overall, bad day. „I remember that game, yeah." She says and scratches her scalp. A nervous thing she does. When she was younger, she used to pull out her hair but she managed it into scratching instead. Michael nods and readjusts his seat. „Anyway. The Scout reached out to me and made me an offer. His exact words were „If she ever wants to get out of that shithole, call me." " Michael stopped, readjusting his shirt collar. „His name is Duretti. He explained to me that the Coach told him to personally come here to watch you play, interact and score, pretty much." He concludes, pulling out a tiny binder from the side table and laying it down infront of him.

Ava hates him.

He makes it so incredibly suspenseful, that she knows there's a twist waiting for her.

„The Coach who told Duretti to follow you, is Haloran. Suzanne Haloran. I think you've heard of her, no?"

Of fucking course Ava knows who Suzanne fucking Haloran is. One of the most decoreated and respected Coaches in the industry. Men's and Women's. She won in three different leagues multiple times, the Champions League (multiple times), the Women's Euros, Olympia and secured second place at the World Cup with Spain (Very successful six years). She trained and/ or Co-Coached in the domestic leagues in Germany, Spain, as well as the states and france. Her antics are dominant. Not taking any bodies bullshit and benching even key-players if they show any unwanted attitude towards her or the team. Now she is settled in England, presumably to coach there for another few years and then retire.

After suffering a major injury in her early twenties and not being able to fully recover, her own football career was over. She was legendary with a ball and surely would've brought it very far but destiny had different plans. Despite that, she still dedicated her life to football and has been a Coach for nearly twenty-five years now. Ava has adored her for as long as she can think.

So why the actual goddamn fuck would she be making this call?

„You're kidding." Ava states, not slightly believing this shit.

„No." Michael plainly said. „What do you mean, „No." Explain." Ava said and crossed her arms. She can feel her pulse on her hand and bicep. Good god.

Michael breathed and carefully straightened his back, showing patience to Ava. „Suzanne Haloran called one of her best scouts, Duretti, to take a look at you and he did. He came back, presented what he had to her and she made the call to make an official offer. That's where we are at right now. Genuine question, are you going to freak or can I continue." Ava breathes shakily before waving her hand. „Go on."

„Their main striker just tore their ACL and they need suitable and sustainable replacements for her, as well as for the other injuries that happened during the season. Signing young, talented players was of prime importance for them." He concludes. Ava saw the headline with the deadly three letters and always feels her heart sink at those. But, unsurprisingly, that isn't Ava's main focus right now.

„Why in gods name would they want me? A barely grown but known troublemaker? That makes no fucking sense." Ava threw her head back in agony and pinches the bridge of her nose. „It's really not, Ava. OCS is known for investing in bringing up young talents and to reform them into their system to keep them for a long time. Right now, no suitable talents from their youth players are worth the risk. You, however, are. And they are willing to pay. No questions asked. As long as you are on board, they are too." Michael finishes and leans back, sliding over the binder. This makes no sense. All that Ava ever really caused, was problems. „Haloran wanted to let you know that she knows it's not you." Michael added and Ava lost every single grasp on reality. „I'm not what?" She asked, furrowing her brows. „You are not the Problem. You are not the reason that things don't work well."

Ava feels like a brick hit her face and brutally pushed her through the floor, sending her into free fall. All this time, every single club made her out to be the problem. Too outgoing. Too brash. Too unlikeable. Too invariable. Too much. Too little. Too much of a goddamn problem. Now THE Coach of the world tells her that it's not her fault? Is this a bad joke? How on earth would she even know?

She voiced those concerns to Michael. He taps his fingers a few times onto his thigh. „Now, I'm really not sure, but her scouts are legitimately everywhere. You might have been on their radar for longer." Well. Her Mother always told her fate has a funny way of finding home. Maybe, for once that means something good for Ava.

Michael, very dramatically but very on brand for this talk, slides the binder over the table towards Ava. It's a contract draft. Fucking hell, it is a contract draft.

There it stands written. In black and white. Oldham crossed swords FC wants her. Ava Silva, 19 years of age and born in Portugal. Now OCS FC wants to have her on the team. Record Champions league winner and known for sprouting the all time best. Fucking Oldham crossed swords FC.

Ava just realized how stupidly long that name is. But that's besides the point. „It's a draft. I know you know the drill by now but I need to tell you this anyway. If you want to transfer, you can look over it, request more something different or leave it at that. If we agree on a version of this contract, we will fly over to England and get you signed within the next two weeks." Her Manager concludes and Ava stands up hastily.

Michael recoils a bit and looks confused. Ava starts pacing the room from left two right. When she got introduced to Michael by her club she felt like the most professional player ever but this is a whole different thing.

Her hands are shaking uncontrollably and her breath is labored. This is too much for her. She is not that good. She can't possibly be good enough for them. From a french team that probably even 75% of Women's Football fans have never heard of to the top of Europe. Sure. „Okay- So.. uhm- To just.. recap. One of the top european clubs want me? Like- Like right now? After being an absolute shit show of a player? And Injured for god knows how long. They like- Want me in the Champions league and all that jazz?" The striker breaths deeply her voice quivering. It has always been a dream to play in England. Michael nods. „Holy fuck." She says and draws out all the syllables.

„Mhmh, yeah. That was my reaction too." The blonde responds. „This is big, Ava." Michael concludes very unnecessarily. „Don't you think I fucking know that!" She yells and immediately feels sorry, shrinking into herself. She is just- totally disheveled and doesn't know what to think. Fucking hell, she doesn't even know how to breathe properly anymore. Michael holds his arms up in a defensive gesture. „I'm sorry, it's just- a lot. I don't wanna move. Especially across countries, there's so much to think through. I also highly fucking doubt their ability to choose right. I just don't want to be the odd one out. Again. I don't want to be unnecessary. Again. It's hard when it's a club this big." Ava drops into the chair and covers her face with one hand. She shouldn't unload this all on him. Michael's not her therapist.

Not like she had one. But she should definitely think about getting one. Especially after today.

She sighs and looks up from inbetween her fingers. „But I also can't say no, can I?" She asks. „Technically, you always can but.. Not if you want to push your career forwards instead of backwards, no." He answers truthfully. „Argh!" She groans and grabs the papers again. She hasn't even so much as glanced at the formalities. Reading the room perfectly, Michael steps in.

„It's nothing too special. Three years starting, 1,500 pounds weekly salary with the option to multiple bonuses and extras. However, there's no additional clause where future clubs will have to pay more. Which could be useful in the future but, If you want my completely unfiltered opinion, I honestly have a good feeling about this whole thing. You'd be able to rent an apartment close to your teammates and housing expenses would be covered. Duretti told me they call the flat complex Cat's Cradle or whatever. Doesn't really matter." He whispered at the end and brushes it off. „Anyway. I'd come with you. The agency told me that if you accept, I could work from there and take two other players from OCS under my wing." He finished and leaned back, now having spilled every last drop of secrets that have been building up.

Ava felt like combusting. It's not even exaggerated. If she had ate something different this morning, it wouldn't be so funny for Michael's desk right now. This is huge. So unbelievably huge. And she is scared. Every single fiber of her being absolutely terrified. What if she screws up again? What if she is just simply unlikeable? What if she doesn't like her teammates and football starts feeling even worse?

Ava starts drawing shorter breaths and unconsciously clenches her hands around the binder slightly. „Hey, Ava." Michael starts softly. „You got this. Seriously. You are amazing, this offer should tell you as much. They don't take offers like this lightly. No professional coach or scout does.. And this team feels different." Ava looks up at him, slightly teary eyed but raises an eyebrow as if to say „You always say shit like this." He scrambles to pull out his phone and shows her a screenshot of some group chat. „Haloran herself is involved in the groupchat the team fosters and after accepting his offer to negotiate, Duretti sent me this."

Ava takes hold of the phone and looks at the chat. Haloran told the group that Silva is interested in transferring to Oldham and all the responses were positive from an „Wait, I think I do know her, she's fast!" To „She seems like she can kick ass." (Which was quickly deflected by someone saying „Language, Mary.") „Camila" even said she might cry when she meets her.

Now, that's a tad bit dramatic but Ava feels so touched that, she feels her heart swell with positive emotions. Seriously, Ava has never felt such a positive reaction to something so small. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, willing the tears away. „Okay." She whispered. Michael waits patiently. „I got this. Let's do it!" Ava said, clapping her hands one time after giving Michael his phone back. „Yes? Are you sure, Ava?" He asked one more time.

„Yes, this is a really fucking good thing, right? I will not let anyone take this away from me right now." She feels like she's just done a three kilometer sprint. This is gonna change her life completely. „Do you want to challenge any of these conditions, like-„ He starts but Ava immediately waved it off. „Nope. Just want to know when we'll fly and move. If you have any news on that." Michael looks at her and squints. „As your Manager, please carefully read through this. But yes, if we really agree on this draft, we'll fly over in two days and do your medical. Then we'll sign and look at the apartments."

Michael pulls another sheet of paper out of the drawer. „This is about your current home. It's a sort of contract elimination. Ending your lease as a footballer can be either easier, or a whole lot more stressful, but this contract gave us an easy way out." He clips it into the binder, right on top and Ava starts and thinks about her current home.

Home doesn't quite hit it, to be honest. It's just an apartment where she sleeps in. The walls are way too plain, except for her bedroom. She has no pictures or decorations standing around, no tiny things that just exist or plants that, no matter the effort, slowly die alongside her. No real proof of life and being lived in if you will. She could literally move with one suitcase full of clothes. Ava has no attachment to any of the things or to the furniture. And she sure as hell has no attachment to the hell hole of the training ground or the city she lives in. The longer she thinks about it, the more she is excited to switch cities- well.. countries as well to be honest. She is absolutely not fluent in french and that makes life so nuch harder and so much more isolating.

„You have enough time to read over the entire thing since you're blocked for the next two games anyway." He said and Ava winced, the bright red of the card shoved into her face still very prominent.

Excitement slowly filled Ava and she bounced both her legs up and down. „You're like 23 when did you suddenly became the best in the industry, huh?" Ava joked and Michael shrugged but with a smile on his face. „Are we gonna talk about why I was leaving or is the club gonna do a statement?"

„Yes and No. I talked to Coach and he said that he will just talk about it in the next press conference and say it was the best decision for both parties. Just the typical nothingness." Michael nods and reopens his laptop. Ava leans back and stretches her legs out, spreadeagle. „So. England." Ava says, helpless. She has no idea how to go from there. Michael snorts. „Go Home, Ava. I'll text you the details."

She has never been to England, Ava realizes. But she always wanted to.

Ava went home feeling like she floated a little above anyone else. Her brain felt light and fuzzy, almost balloon-y, filled with helium making her the tiniest bit dizzy. Her step quickened, almost breaking into a light jog. No idea what exactly triggered this, but she felt so fucking good. Maybe it was knowing that she can finally escape this hell of a city she painfully called home or maybe it was the fact that she doesn't have to endure this typical „french meanness" in the locker room, or really anywhere, anymore. The striker literally felt like frolicking through the streets of Paris.

As she entered her apartment, she put on music and looked through the whole shitty flat. For the first time in multiple years no worries, no weird thoughts or problems seeped into her brain as she feels truly careless and good. She jumped onto the bed and let herself flop down. Ava could really use some company right now, if she was being honest. Being alone all the time sucks ass. She doesn't even have a pet, for gods sake.

However, she was never good at maintaining relationships. Doesn't matter how deep they go. Before the accident she was a preppy, happy and excited kid.

She had few good friends and of course, Diego. After the accident however, she used football as a coping mechanism and shut herself out. What else was she supposed to do, freshly orphaned and with no idea on how to deal with it. No more friendships, no more relationships, no nothing. Instead, she watched a lot of movies and tv shows aswell as read a lot of books about highschool, coming of age and romance because she never got to experience any of it as she was younger. It was the only way she could get some sort of normalcy into her life. All she did was play football and train. She never kissed any boys or got to experience discovering her own sexuality with cute, timid crushes. She was a barely functioning teen and now is an even worse young adult. This is about to be a great turn of live events.

She feels better about her future now, which might be a bit too soon, considering she didn't even sign yet but she set herself new goals to reach. Unrelated to football. She is determined to go out and experience all that good shit as soon as she lives in england.

She will go out, party, make friends, play well, kiss somebody and get laid, she wants to get stupidly drunk and regret it the next day aswell as play videogames with people instead of only against them and just be young and dumb. Yes, she is going to be a professional athlete, but who is to say being a young person living life and being a professional football player are mutually exclusive? Of course she isn't gonna be able to go full out in one night but she feels giddy just thinking about maybe finally arriving somewhere good. Somewhere, where she finally feels at home. And not alone anymore.

Ava falls asleep completely askew on her bed, limbs akimbo. Her night is dreamless and her morning grumpy, as always. She feels giddy as she checks her messages and sees that Michael told her the exact infos of when they're gonna fly over and that she, if she wants, can already take a few things with her.

This is real. It is fucking real. There's no way it was not just a dream. Ava squeaks and excitedly wiggles around the bed. She feels a slight twinge in her calf and decides it's high time to get up.

Ava rolled out of her bed, stretched out her upper body and begins warming up her legs. (which are still totally screwed from the game since she had absolutely no time to do active regeneration) She spreads her yoga mat out next to the bet and gets her blackroll, starting to work out all the knots and kinks in her thigh and calf. Jesus, nobody warned her that being an athlete really fucking hurts when you don't treat your body extremely carefully. One roll particular hurts and she winces.

Rolling out your thigh always looks and feels weird. You have to sort of „Magic-Mike-Grind" the floor because there's literally not other position where you can put enough force onto the thigh to really work out any tenses.

She looks down at her ankle and sees it still spotting blue green and a good amount of purple, right where Zoe's studs rammed into her. She scrunches her face up at the memory. These metal studs are really not to be messed with. Ava remembers herself tackling somebody way too hard and breaking the skin with her boots. Red card. That was a tough one.

After a few more minutes of getting her body into working conditions, she pulled out a suitcase from under her bed. This day will be the longest day in a long time. Nothing to do but wait.

The dark blonde threw in all the clothes she normally doesn't wear too often as well as all her spare bedsheets she has laying around. It's almost already 90% of what she owns. That's... sad. She puts in her few overflowing sketchbooks, as well as chargers and her ipad. There we go. She looks down at the pathetically (and wholly unorganized) filled case. Her whole life, packed up and ready. Okay not entirely but, symbolically it is.

The whole day is so agonizingly slow. She packed most of her unused stuff up, cleaned her flat, sorted out 3/4 of her drawers, threw away lots of stuff, went on a walk and already took a nap. Currently she sits down at her marble counter enjoying a cup of coffee when she decided to call Diego.

Ava smiles as she remembers how she got him the phone. She just turned eighteen and got her first seriously big paycheck, because her team won some sort of national cup which in return, brought them all a bit of money. Nothing too special since the wages and prices for women are still nothing compared to men at this level, but it was enough to buy Diego a phone and ship it over to Madrid. He has been living with a great foster family for quite a while now and Ava has been getting letters every two weeks, so she was very excited for the first letter after her package came through.

Three rings later the younger boy picked up. „Ava! Mi hermana!! I saw you've been up to big trouble lately." He laughs and Ava grinned, loving to be hearing his adorable voice again. He sounds older every day. „Yes, lindo, I might be doing something very very big huge." She started, mysteriously. Trying to hook him in. „Oh?" He asked excitedly. „I'm gonna transfer." She whispered into the phone. He waited patiently, knowing she will continue anyway but she heard the tiny stutter in his breath. „To oldham." Ava finished and smiled as she heard him gasp fully now. She leans back, satisfied with the effect.

„Oldham? Oye, how did you do that?! Why do they want you?!" He asked with a lot of joking critique and enthusiasm. „Eyo, niño, be nice! And- no se." She laughed. „I'm just that great." She continued and smiled as he started excitedly listing facts about Oldham, almost stumbling over his words. Diego was, and probably always will be, the biggest football nerd known to mankind. He is like- a walking transfermarket. Diego knows everyone. Seriously, If you have a cousin playing on semi pro level, he probably has heard of him. It's utter insanity and Ava keeps telling him to keep it up. This could really benefit him if he continues having fun with it. Finally one to break the system.

„Oldham- Damn! That's incredible Ava. You gotta send me one of your jerseys, please!" He begged and Ava chuckled at the hard spanish accent that always comes through when excited. „The contract is not even singed yet. But yes, I will do it as soon as I get them, prometido." He yelled and whooped and Ava laughed a deep laugh. God she needed this. „Ay dios mio Ava, you're gonna play Champions league! I think i'm gonna pass out." He said and Ava laughed even harder. She feels like crying out of sheer happiness. Never in her life has she felt so great about her career.

„Relax, Papito. I will call you the second I walk out of the room in England to talk to you about all the details and upcoming games? Vale?" She said, shoving the now empty cup into the dishwasher. „Vale!" He paused a little longer this time. „But seriously, this is amazing and I am so so so proud of you!" He said, quieter now. „Thank you, Diego. You're the only one I want and need to be proud of me. And I, personally, couldn't be prouder of you. Now go and do something productive, Papito." Ava chuckled and desperately wished he could be here right now.

„Okay okay." He chuckled. „Te amo, Ava." - „Te amo, Diego." Ava said and pressed the red button blinking up onto her screen. Breathing deep, she orders herself some food and after eating spends another two to three hours doing Yoga, Working out and Running on the treadmill. Ava was always the worst when it comes to time management, but before she knows it, she wakes up to her phone ringing.

She groans into the Phone before Michael tells her that an Uber will be there in 15 minutes. Let's fucking do it. Ava slips into joggers and sweats before she picks up the suitcase, shoulders her bag and gives the apartment one last affectionate middle finger. She is out the door and slides into the backseat of the Uber Michael called. It's time to completely re-do her life and fuck yes, she is excited.

Michael texts her, saying he's already at the airport, organizing everything for them and making travel seemless. Having a Manage Michael really has it's perks. After stepping out of the Uber, everthing blurs. She sits down, they take off and they land. Before she really understands, she stands before the doors to Oldham FC.

Chapter Text

Ava loves chaos.

She always flourished best in the midst of complete disorganized chaos. It kind of follows her around, too. Always swirling around her like a swarm of bees around it's hive.

When she was just a normal kid before the accident, her school day would consist of at least two disappointted scoldings from teachers and definitely more than one broken thing. Thing, in this case, being the broadest variable known. No matter if it was her pencil that had to succumb to being used as a sling, her classmates binder which needed to serve as a surfboard on slimy (deliberately, by the way.) hallway floor or the teachers chair that, unbeknownst and completely unrelated to Ava, learned to fly.

Sometimes, on rare occasions, where absolutely nothing happened and Ava behaved normally with every„thing" and everyone, the teachers would come over to her at the end of the and, depending on which teacher, either pat her on the back or ask if she did anything undercover. Ava always felt insulted because if she causes trouble, she will definitely let everyone know. Willingly so. No reason in causing trouble if there's no witnesses.

It's safe to say she was a definite teachers favorite. By far. At least if you look at the list from upside down, she was clearly the winner with a lot of distance to the second. A win is a win, really. Some teachers would try their best to match her energy and attempt to reduce the damage. Those were her favorites. Because at least they understood her childish and dumb humor. That counted for something.

When everyone turned older and slowly everything turned and grew into organized adulting, she wasn't freed from chaotic behaviorism. Ava was definitely not a functioning adult, being messed up from the years without real parental figures, she started seeking the chaos. She seeked the unpredictability. The way that everything moved faster. The lack of responsibility inmidst chaos. The way this was the only constant she had.

She started loving the chaotic streets of Paris and the hectic movement, she loved the additional chaos on the field that always „oh-so accidentally" happened when she was on and she loved the chaos with Michael and Diego.

So really,

Ava loves chaos.

So her heart flares up immediately when they open the big and heavy glass door that leads into the training ground in Oldham.

The first thing Ava fully picks up is yelling. And laughing. And more yelling. Michael got handed one of these swiping-key-cards beforehand, so they can get onto the ground without any problems and look around after the signing without having to constantly be around someone else. That- Feels a little reckless, but who is Ava to say that.

"You utter, goddamn cunt! Gimme that back!" Was heard muffled through the halls, shortly before laughter and a genuinely outraged "Language!" echos through to Ava and Michael. Her Manager sighs, probably sensing the way that Ava will feed of this liveliness and Ava grins as she whips back and forth on her heels, giddily. This one single thing she heard already makes her feel better than the club in Paris. Everything there was so uptight. Everyone lived with a stick up their asses and let it grow and marinate. Ava is pretty sure that she didn't even witness how fourty percent in that facility just so much as smiled.

The entrance hall was pretty spacey and wide spread. The floor was partly carpeted in a beautiful yellow-ish orange swirl. It looks eerily clean. As if it got cleaned and combed every half hour. The colors look incredibly vibrant, however, not in a „that hurts my eyes" kind of way. Those are her new club colors. Exciting. Ava kind of feels bad stepping on it.

There are huge windows along the right side of the entrance almost taking up the entire right wall, showcasing a footpath towards their multiple training pitches, a few modern looking sheds and a lot of other stuff that Ava does not have the time nor the will, really, to discern.

Michael nudges her into the side before nodding to the left, signaling her to follow him to the door with the obligatory golden "office" sign attached to the front. If she would get a dollar everytime she walks through one of these, she would be able to buy herself one of those. Probably out of pure gold. Or at least glazed in gold. Maybe then she could foster infinite money in her own home if she walked through the door like 30 times per Minute-

"Ava Silva! What a pleasure to finally have you here!" A woman, maybe just shy of ten years older than Ava, smiles warmly and stands up from her office desk, walking towards the soon to be OCS striker with an outstretched hand. This woman probably has the prettiest brown locks Ava as ever seen. It looks like she was born to be in a commercial for some luxury conditioner. Just generally, this woman is stunning. She is a little taller than her, has the bone structure of a goddess and the smile is the most contagious Ava has seen in a long time.

Feeling very slightly intimidated, she grabs the hand and shakes it, smiling timidly. "I'm Margot. The Sports Coordinator from Oldham." She explains and leads Ava and Michael towards the two intensely white chairs infront of the american walnut desk.

How does Ava know it's america walnut you may ask. She loves those. Since she saw them in a video she has been obsessed. Always wanted one for her flat, to feel like a rich and hot business woman. Leaning on it with her hip and flicking her hair back before doing something hot and businesslike. But good god, these dumb wooden plates were fucking expensive. Eventually she'll get one. It's a good investment for the future, for sure.

Ava's gaze continues drifting over the walls, different pictures from the team throughout different eras, lifting trophy's or huddling after a goal are framed in dark wood and hang along the back wall. That must be crazily motivating. Imagine turning around in your chair and being hit with multiple pictures of world class you helped produce. Fuck yes.

Sunlight streams in from the left, just perfectly right. This room looks beautiful with the sun coming in. It also really highlights how neatly every single surface is cleaned. Not a single dust particle on those dressers, which are probably housing the most interesting of contracts and thousand player profiles of unsung heroes. She would love to take a look through there.

Ava sinks into the chair a little as she sits down. That shit feels like a goddamn cloud. Or at least what she would think clouds would feel like if one could sit on them. She doesn't even realize that Michael starts to talk to Margot because she is completely enraptured into the chair. That will go straight to her whishlist after the desk plates. "-Halloran will be here shortly." Margot keeps her smile and already pulls out three different binders in different shades of yellow and orange, aligning them properly next to eachother onto the table. "Did you find everything okay? And was the travel not too much of an inconvenience? Can I get you something? Like water or something different, if you‘d like?" Margot rambles of, gets up to grab a glass of water from the dresser directly under the Window and looks intently at Michael. Huh. He chuckles and answers her questions with the professionalism Ava always feels a little weirded out by.

Michael goes into this weird completely different mode. His whole body language changes and his tone sounds like it comes straight out of an episode from law and order. "The facility is rather easy to access. No problems there for us. The flight was pleasant. It's still a flight, but there was no delay and the other passengers were also mostly easy to deal with." Michael leans back and crosses his legs, relaxing into the familiarity of the situation. "Good! Good. That's nice to hear." She sits back down after sliding Ava and Michael a glass of water. Margots Hand grazed Micheals as he already reached to take it into his hands to drink. After another minute of painful silence that lets Ava simmer with the question on how to find out how to get one of those chairs without stealing, Suzanne Halloran walks into the room.

The whole room immediately feels different, almost electric and Ava has to strongly supress the urge to stand up straight and salute. That's new. She gets up anyway, a kindness and proper "Greeting-etiquette" as Michael would call it, to shake Suzanne Hallorans hand and let herself be welcomed in. Ava's palms feel as damp as if she just washed her hands and her heart hammers against her ribcage all the way up to her throat. Everything just got a whole lot more real.

"Ava Silva." Suzanne speaks up, as everyone settled in their respective chairs. "That would be me, yes." Oh god, her brain is shutting off already. It's exactly like the time where she found this certain nurse incredibly cute and she just couldn't stop talking. Like legitimately could not stop. It was horrendous.

Everytime Ava experiences hightened emotions, her mouth goes off on its own. She scrunches her nose as she realized what had just left her mouth and signaled Suzanne with a tiny nod to go on. "I will be going straight to the point. I have been watching you for the better part of eight years now, and I am very pleased with the way that you have developed, depite the major setbacks. I was rather scared you wouldn't ever be on that level again, if I'm honest. So I am even more pleased with the fact that I was finally able to offer you a space here in Oldham." She nods appreciatively. It feels genuine.

Ava looks down, smiling from ear to ear. But feeling like she needs the tiniest bit modest about her happiness right now. She expresses it anyway. "I am very glad and happy my way has lead me here." She looks up and into the very satisfied face of Suzanna Halloran. Still feels weird to think about that it's actually her infront of Ava. "Very well. However, I need to be completely honest with you." Oh fucking hell. „The main reason why that offer is coming through now, is that we, as a club, are facing some major internal challenges as we currently foster two long time Injuries on the same position."  Two? Ava was only aware of one.

„You have been on our list of potential transfers for long, but after the start to your season and the injury updates that came through on our team, you turned into a main priority. That means that you would be an immediate main contributor of this team. As long as you are able to harness the talent and ability you possess, you will be a set key player." She pauses. Ava‘s throat is caged in anxiety. „Do you understand what I am asking of you, Ava? This is a big responsibility. I have been in this business for more years than you have been on this earth for, so I know that this can make or break a person. Are you able and willing to do this?" Ava swallows, suddenly there's something unwanted in her throat.

She expected this to be smooth sailing, to just stamp her name onto a few pieces of paper and be on her merry way. She didn't expect to be confronted with a lowkey threatening question about her future at this point in time already. She expected more of „How are you‘s“ and „Are you happy to be here‘s“ instead of „Are you willing to potentially sacrifice your sanity‘s“ but, whatever.

If Ava is one thing, it's determined. And she sure as fuck is determined to give everything to get her career out of the gutter it is stuck in. So she nods before saying „Yes, ma'am." She glances to Michael and he gives her the tiniest nod to reassure her.

„Good. I will do everything possible to make sure that you are getting to be the best you can. I am excited to be working with you, Ava Silva." Now she smiles. Suzanne Halloran just smiled at her. „As I'm sure, you are familiar with the formalities of signing for a new club. We will go over the terms and conditions and as far as no more questions and or changes arise, we will get your medical check-up done today and get you signed officially in the next two hours." She concludes and slides the first binder onto Ava's hands.

The club logo is perfectly placed in the middle and this is definitely the most high-quality binder she ever held in her hands. It displays the hilt of a sword, speckled with metallic details. The logo itself is round, but the hilt protrudes out of the ring, giving it a little more depth. The club name is written rounded along the underside of the ring and the color scheme is a rich orange, topped of with bright blue accents. All in all, you can definitely see the age and the tradition in the logo. After all, they never reworked it like some clubs do over time.

Michael gets handed a second binder and Ava notices after flipping through that it's her real contract. Not just the draft anymore. She knows it's bullshit but the papers feel richer, almost as if they carried more meaning, more importance. Ava, for once in her goddamn lifetime, has done her homework and completely read through this. Line by line. That took quite some time to be honest.

Was it finished shortly before they got here? Sure was. Nobody has to know, nor will they.

"I presume you have looked this over already?" Ava nodded. Suzanne seems happy enough. "Good, so lets get it going."

They go over the contract, page by page, with little to no problems. Every condition and every bonus as well as the salary (plus salary increases over the years) and living situation is discussed and explained. Every now and then Michael asks something relevant for him, his job and agency, but aside from that, Ava just sits pretty and nods along, already going hand in hand with her new contract. Her leg jitters up and down, ready to get started.

Long minutes and a lot of different pages and numbers later, they move to their medical facility. “As you might know, Medical tests are not mandatory. We have been in contact with your other Physicians and doctors due to your rather special situation, so we already know quite a few of the things we would have tested." Margot explains to her as they walk through the halls. Pictures of the clubs historic events hang along their sides, connect by timelines and facts about the place as well as outlines from silverware they won and stadiums they played at. It feels like they are doing some sort of time travel throughout the years. The design, again, is extraordinarily beautiful.

“We do, however, have a few things we always do. Just to assess your fitness in certain situations and to see your breaking point." She smiles. Ava thinks it’s a little psychotic to smile while insinuating that one will be pushed to their absolute bodily limit. “It's also a great way to get to know your future medical team." Caught herself there.

Medicals before a transfer were always a strange deal. They are no necessity, really, but her first coach said it's like buying a car secondhand without checking it for flaws that could've dampened the price. Yes, he was a “treat a car like you would treat a woman" kind of guy, but at least on this occasion he does have a point. Medical tests before a signing are often just to stock up their documents and to see if they're fit and durable for a whole season or if they need to plan for a permanent substitution plan. The tests vary in lenghts, too. On deadline days, these medicals take mere hours, if even, but during regular transfer season, these tests can be as thorough as multiple days long, doing every test imaginable like three times. Ava shudders at the thought of going into an MRI tube anytime soon.

Ava is handed a training kit and a green squeezable sports bottle filled with some lime isotonic drink before they start with the basics. EKG while resting, while walking. Measuring body fat percentage and testig her agility and mobility. Those tests are one of her favorites. They're funny. She literally has to jump, squat and jump-squat onto a mat that measures all these different things like height, speed, maximum speed, maximum height etc. It's kind of insane, really. They get all of this damn data from jumping on a mat with sensors. Crazy shit. Then she does it one legged, left then right, testing her balance.

It all goes over smoothly but sweatily. The test she loves the most are the sprints at the end. Really not the most important thing but Ava's like a hyper active dog when it comes to running.

She fucking loves running her goddamn lungs out. It probably has something to do with the fact that she is able to do that and wasn't for a long time, but right now is definitely not the time to dive into that. “Ready? I know that part can be a little dreading." Nick, one of the doctors asks her, standing next to her while attaching the little sticky ends that measure her heart rate and a lot of different other factors to her chest and back. Michael, who sits in the back of the room snorts. “Believe me, She has been looking forward to that all morning." He says, drumming on his knee. The way those sprints work is that every three minutes, the speed is amped up. So it's not only draining because it's running, but because it gets increasingly worse.

Nick laughs as he adjusts something with his monotoring and Ava raises an eyebrow. He looks at her face and falters in his movement a little. “Oh wait. You're not joking?" He asks, genuinely concerned. Ava laughs, throwing her head back a little. “You just wait until I tear this thing to shreds, my guy." Now he just looks a little terrified, even if smiling. “Most people called these suicides. Guess that doesn't apply to Ava Silva." She snorts and swears she can hear Michael snicker in the back. The striker cracks her neck for show and starts the run

She totally does tear the treadmill to shreds but it also did the same to her. She was desperate for some air when she finally taps out. Nick nods appreciatingly. “Not bad. Consider it torn, Ava. Consider it torn." He laughs and unclips the measuring pads before handing Ava a towel. There's sweat everywhere. Everywhere. Ava's socks feel a little like she just jumped into a puddle. Her body shudders when her brain registers the feel and she becomes hyperaware of every body part. “Uh.. Where's the shower?" She asks, stepping down from the treadmill and slicks her hair back which wouldn't even need any hairspray to stay like this for the next day, probably.

Ava showers quickly even though she wants to spend a week in here. The water pressure is so much better than anything she has had before. The shower cabine itself is beautiful. The bathoroom is adjacent to the fitness room and there's three separate shower cabines inside, which you can close. That's not a given in most sportsfacilities, so that feels like the biggest win. The tiles are in black and grey and the showerhead is adjustable in its different water spraying styles, without detaching it from the hanger. It is pure and utter bliss.

She got a little bag with toiletries and it's adorable how small those portions are. Smaller even, than the inside of her palm, but hey, for one shower that's more than enough. Ava gets out, her legs a little heavier, dried herself off and puts on the fresh clothes they gave her. It's a nice tech fleece jogger set in a warm blue color. And good god it's comfy. Really comfy.

She steps out of the bathroom as soon as she got her hair under control with the miniatur hair dryer which hangs on the wall and after she did the tiniest bit of make a up to not look dead, at least. Suzanne, Margot and Michael all sit in the room, talking about something when Ava joins them. “Okay." Suzanne gets up, letting Michael and Margot follow her. “Now that the details are all done and the tests look promising, let's get down to real business, no?" She smiles and leads them towards the office again. Ava's heart starts pounding faster than when she was in the last minute on the treadmill.

She absolutely can't wait for this to be real. Be official. Be fucking reality for Ava Silva. It has always been the dream to play in England. To make enough money for her and Diego. To put herself on the map for the national teams and to finally be a part of a team that works together. It's a bonus that this is a club known for really good structures. And it's a fucking bonus that Suzanne Halloran is the coach.

When they re-enter the office, it looks a little different. The chairs are moved to the side and the table is turned a little, so the background spots the Oldham logo as well as a few of the pictures showing the successful moments. On the table itself, there is her contract, a pencil and her new jersey. She can't stop the smile creeping over her lips. In the back of her peripheral vision she sees somebody moving and flinches violently. The person reflexively holds up their hands in an apologetic gesture. A camera is slung around their shoulders. Oh. Yeah right, Social Media presence and all that. Ava smiles out an apology and holds out her hand, a greeting. They shake hands and get acquainted before everyone else trickles in.

Ava is told to sit down and she looks at her jersey. Her heart sank a little. Her gaze flicked to Suzanne, currently talking to the photographer. They looked at eachother and Ava asked “Can I please call someone?"

After only the second ring, Diego picked up via FaceTime. “Did you do it? Lo has hecho, Ava?!" He asked excitedly, his little toothy grin filling her screen while her eyes filled with tears. Without saying something, she turned the camera and it showed her jersey next to the contract. “Not yet, Papito. I want you to see this." He squealed and almost dropped his phone. “I wish you could be here, little man. I miss you." She said gestured for Michael to hold the phone. “Yo tambien, hermana." Diego sighed and added. “But I'm so happy for you!"

Michael took place next to the photographer and held the phone like a proud dad, smiling at the display. Halloran sat next to Ava in one of those goddamn soft chairs. The photographer, Zari, gave them a quick rundown on what to shoot and where to look, before Ava was officially signing her contract. They did a few pictures of shaking hands, held up jerseys and smiling faces and Ava heard Diego call for his Mom and lots of squealing. Ava positively beamed. Nothing makes her happier than having this little part of herself be proud of her.

Both Halloran and Ava had to sign a few different pages before the contract was stamped, saved and put away. Another finalized and signed copy was gifted to Ava and Michael. And now they were free to go. Well, mostly. Around the facility, that is. Suzanne took it upon herself to introduce her to the few people that still lingered in the facility after the morning session and Ava's nerves begann sizzling again.

She is a very social person, really. As a kid, she always tried talking to every single person that came her way and even after growing older, she was fascinated by people and how everyone had their own stories, but this time? She wanted to retract into her shell just like a turtle. This was her team. Her profession. This needs to go well. So so badly.

They walked around first.

It's beautiful. The possibilities are probably the most advanced Ava has ever seen in a women's side. There is a whole floor just for the medical department. And the weight room is not in multi use with three different youth teams who do not respect the equipment the way they should. Ava‘s skin prickles with disgust at the thought of gripping onto those sweaty handles, that haven’t been wiped in two weeks, ever again.

And then the lockers. Good god, the lockers. It's finally more than just three wooden planks and two and a half hooks very uncomfortably placed right on head height. Ava can't wait to see the actual stadium, which is located around an hour south of the facility. They tour her around until Ava can pick up the same voices from before. “Now, If you are ready, you'll meet a few girls from the team. We had an early morning session and will have another one in around two hours." She pauses at the door. “Usually, everyone is free to go and do whatever they please until the next training, but some decide to stay here, eat and-“ Another well timed yelp and laughter gets out towards them “do.. that." Halloran let's her head hang, but the smile is evident.

Suzanne opens the door and the first thing Ava notices is chaos.

It's some sort of break room. Just- to chill, Ava presumes. There are tables, closets but also a few mats and stationary bikes to warm up on. The other thing Ava immediately notices, is that two people, clad in club wear, stare at them like two deers caught in headlights. A board game, which seems to be monopoly, lays sprawled across the floor and Suzanne groans upon entering, leaving Ava to trudge in behind her.

Ava looks at both of the girls infront of her. She recognizes one, but not the other. The one she notices, is Camila. She has short locks, is a little smaller than Ava (and Ava really isn’t tall at all.) and from what she knows, has legs like rockets.

She doesn't know much, being way too scared to google her teammates beforehand. Some information always seeps through, of course. You always hear who transfers where, but aside from names on Paper, Ava knows hardly nothing and swore to herself to find out in person. But she couldn't stop herself entirely. From the looks both of them throw onto Ava, atleast Camila also knows who Ava is. The “Deer-In-Headlights" kind of shocked transfered into a “Holy-Shit?!" kind of shocked.

“Girls, this-“ Suzanne gestures towards Ava, a reassuring smile grazing her lips. “Is Ava Silva. As i've told you, there might be some new faces. This is the first official one." Before Suzanne could even finish the sentence, Camila grinned and came running over to Ava. Ava, completely startled, stumbled backwards a little. Camila grasped her wrists, so she doesn't fall over (entirely for her Camila‘s own good, for sure.), before showering her with questions. All of the words come jumbled into Ava's mind, but she heard some “Where are you from"s and “Why are you here now"s as well as one or two “I'm so excited"s. Ava just smiled overwhelmed.

The second person stepped up and pulled Camila away softly. She had darker skin and a very tight, black bun ontop her head. Her aura just exuded “badass“ to the brink. “Camila, Please don't." She said and Camila retracted just the slightest bit, her eyes never leaving Ava. “Mary." The more collected girl told Ava, holding her hand out. “This excited Puppy here, is Camila." She added, rubbing Camilas shoulder with her other hand. Ava nodded, her throat way too dry to push any words out, silently grabbed the hand and shook it. “Ava." She croaxed before clearing her throat and saying this again.

Calm your tits, Ava. This is fine. Just- be yourself.

She looked at Camila and smiled, as wide as she managed. “I’m from Spain, Madrid to be exact,
I’m here to be a striker, or at least thats what I was told and yes, I'm excited too, Camila." and apparently, that was some sort of cue that set Camila off. She grabbed Ava by the hand pulled her into the room. Now, that the rest of the space came into view, Ava noticed that there were a few more people in here.

Three, to be exact. One girl, sitting on a couch in the corner, legs stuck in some rehab sleeve and another girl talking to an older guy. Oh boy. Ava loves people, but getting to know them and always making a good impression to not fuck anything up, is the most stressful thing ever. It’s a little like putting up a temporary mask. Holding back, just to not come off as weird. That never seemed to be Ava‘s strong suit.

The girl on the couch looks like she might not exactly appreciate what’s going on, currently. Her gaze felt like it might burn into her back, almost like a glazing light. Ava lets herself steal another glance and recognizes the tight braid and neat eyebrows. Oh okay. Makes sense. This, on the couch with her legs inside the rehab slevees, is Lilith. Lilith Cordona. The strker who just tore her ACL and injured her MCL two weeks ago. Aka: The person Ava was literally bought to replace.

Mhh. Great first impression. Camila continues babbling something towards her. She wants to hear what she is saying. Not wanting to be rude and feeling like this is a good refresher but she really only had half the mind to do so, when Lilith literally looks like the only thing stopping her from skinning Ava alive is her leg. Ava shakes out of her train of thought. “Sorry, what did you say?“ She asks, a little red with embarrassment. Camila just smiles brightly. “I just just said that I‘m exited for you to meet with the team.“

Camila is really just the sunshine in person. Her looks are curling adorably around her ears. The smile could literally light up somebodies day. It‘s intense, almost. She hopes that she will benefit from the sunny energy on days where she cannot get herself out of the cloudy haze.

“Are you already coming to training today?“ Camila asks more calmly now, pulling a chair back for Ava to sit down onto. Oh god. She doesnt know. She really couldn’t handle this today. Her legs already feel like giving up for two to three business days. Ava looks helplessly to Suzanne in the doorway. She shakes her head. Nice.

“I think I have to check out my living situation first.“ Ava saw something click in Camila‘s eyes. She gasped and leaned towards her, onto the table. “Wait, where do you live?“ She asks and Ava has to think about what was just said in the Office talk.

The OCS has three different apartments currently rented and on call. They keep these apartments for various reasons, but the ones Margot told her, were mainly about business shit Ava does not completely understand. It has to do with some higher ups not always being in town etc etc.

One Apartment is freshly free because of a player who transfered to somewhere in Germany. And another apartment has to stay free, so Ava has to choose between two housing options, no fee, no rent, no nothing. Just readily available. Both in the same region too. Michael called it the “Cat‘s Cradle“ but she doesnt recall why.

“I still have to choose where exactly, but Michael called it Cat‘s Cradle, if that tells you anything.“ Ava laughs and Camila claps, happily. “Cat‘s Cradle is what we call our little apartment compexes. Ninety percent of the team lives in the area, so it‘s amazing that you live there too! It‘s very convenient with cooking and stuff. Especially when Dora is almost a master chef. Or with the Movie nights. Oh! We have a bigger one planned in two days; you should tag along!“ Camila explains.

Ava‘s heart grows exponentially the longer she talks to Camila. She is so sweet and it‘s already more human niceties than she had in probably two years. If you count out Steve, of course. Ava smiles brightly and let‘s herself be raptured into a talk with Camila. It flows without problems and Ava finds herself talking a lot more than she expected to in the beginning.

Camila explains her their schedule in the league, the travelling situation for away games or just rambles of about certain people on the team. Ava finds out that Mary is tough on the outside but will for sure cry at eighty percent of romance movies (and if any animal dies on the screen.). She finds out that Lilith has a longer list of people she doesn’t tolerate than the ones she does, but she tries to at least get along with everyone, which, hey. Ava gets it. She gets told that Dora is a little shy but once you get her to open up, she will be the most unhinged and best friend you will ever see and Ava finds out that Beatrice is one of the best people to have on your team. When she asks why, Camila just adds a shrug while smiling and tells her “you‘ll see.“ Mh.

She can’t quite connect the faces to the names yet, but Camila told her she‘ll help her with that. They talk for a few more minutes before the other girl in the room moves to leave. The first thing Ava notices, is the biceps. She keeps the already short sleeves rolled up onto her shoulders. The arm muscles are.. very prominent, to say the least. The second thing she notices, are eyes. Intense eyes looking directly at her, head turned towards the two of them sitting at the table. Third thing, is the voice, echoing sweetly through the room.

“Camilla, it’s time to get ready for the afternoon session, let’s get going.“ Camila nods at her, smiling, as always. She looks at Ava and grins, pulling her into a short sideways hug. “I‘ll see you around, Ava.“ She turns to the woman infront of the door and pats her on the back. “Let’s do it, Bea.“

Bea. That rings a bell.

Beatrice.

Ava has heard of her. She is one, if not the most promising up and coming Goalkeeper talent in Europe. Now those arm muscles make sense, at least. Ava shakes her head. She needs a nap. Desperately.

Chapter Text

Ava hates being alone.

It's a thing she always despised, even when she was younger. She clung to her parents, friends and teachers just to avoid the unfamiliarity of loneliness. It was a thing she was often chastised for as a kid. Her mother wanting time alone, while Ava hated nothing more than that. The hate transformed into fear seamlessly after the one accident that left her completely bare to world.

In the hospital after her back injury, those fears resurfaced and seethed into every nerve and bone she possessed. Living alone would be the end of her, if she didn't have a profession to go after.

She talks to her plants and acts as if these green's have atleast the tiniest conscious awareness.

She gets panicky easily in public. Especially when she is supposed to be with someone and isn't anymore, unplanned and unprepared.

When she was smaller, the initial fear came from the phobia of being forgotten. As she got older, this turned to the fear of being alone with herself unsure on what depths of herself she could fall into. Ava is not one for being good on her own in this universe, really.

So, yes.

Ava hates being alone.

But having Michael tell her that her direct three apartment neighbors would be teammates, elates her. She isn't alone. She doesn't have to be, she has to remind herself.

„Suzanne said something about two options, though?" Ava asked, standing infront of the door to her future apartment. Michael just shrugs and threw her the keys telling her that „this is it."

Which, feels like way more than it actually is. Or should be, anyway. It's a fucking door, but that single, stupid piece of a metal handle is the manifestation of Ava's dreams and hard work. It holds so much more than she thought it would. For fucks sake, it's hard for Ava to move her hand towards the lock. This is too much emotional bullshit. She hates it.

She loves emotions. The good ones. Those though? Not the good ones.

The building itself is very clean and extraordinarily modern. Key cards to the entrance which are used for the lifts and all that jazz. Ava, coming from lower middle class standards, feels severely out of place. She never lived in a house that didn't sound concerning 3/5 nights a week.

The floors look clean, almost polished. Very white. „Furniture?" Ava asked, a little dumbly. Her brain is doing summersaults, so her words are just barfed out. Michael's eyebrow lifts the slightest bit. „Basics, yes. A bed, the kitchen and a few dressers here and there. You will definitely need to go on a shopping spree, though."

Ava wouldn't say it out loud yet, but the first thing that came to mind, was Camila. She would be the best help and probably knew all the hotspots and ways to safe a good amount of money. And it could actually be nice to have her with her.

When she held up the electronic key, Ava felt the urge to adress how easy and smoothly it unlocked, feeling very satisfied by that, but the words froze in her throat. The first thing you see, is plain. Of course. So damn plain boring. And she loves it.

Right behind the entrance, is a small hallway stocked with hooks for jackets and a slightly worn shoe rack. Some sign of previous life. The light comes in from a huge Window front ahead. In, what Ava presumes to be, the living room. The hallway leads into the room infront but also continues down the right, where the living room is partly seperated by some sort of half-wall. It's spacious, it's beautiful. And it's her's.

The Windows showcases a scenery of the city which, to be honest, is not the most beautiful Ava has ever seen. She grew up in Portugal, for fucks sake. But it was decent. It was just the way that those late sunlight streams trickled in that made it all the more beautiful. The room itself was equipped with a couch and a tv stand, as well as a pretty cool looking glass table. No TV. That's depressing. How was she going to keep up with her night time of Trash-TV tonight? That's a concern for later.

„You like?" Michael asks, plainly, leaning against the half-wall. Ava nods, a wave of tears reaching her eyes. If she could see herself, she is pretty certain she is the embodiment of a child who just has been denied candy. Lip trembling and jutting forward, her shoulders slightly lifted and her eyes filling with tears.

Ava hopes someone is proud of her.

„Oh no. Nope. No tears in this flat already." Michael says, stepping closer and very lightly but very annoyingly slapping her cheeks a few times. „There's no reason to cry just yet, okay? Enjoy it. Really. You finally get to live, Ava! It's great!"

She breathes, deeply. Then she starts giggling. Then laughing. And at that point Michael probably has the emergency room on speed dial because she might be having a stroke. Or going crazy.

Ava never really noticed just how much her old environment hurt her, trapped her and slowly gnawed away happiness. She was aware of the sneeres, the comments, the ignorancy and the general dislike everyone seemed to possess towards her. She was aware that she was alone far too often and seriously injured for ninety percent of her time there. But that it made breathing, walking and existing so much harder, so much heavier and so much worse, she hadn't realized. Not quite.

All up until now. Where everything really fell into place. And now she laughs. She laughs with her whole chest and Michael smiles, still holding her shoulder. Ava's conscious is close to floating away entirely, already reaching the ceiling, for sure. „Are you high? Doping on the first day? Ava..." Michael says and pinches the bridge of his nose. Ava shakes her head, still not done with her questionable laugh and hugs Michael.

She never really did that before. Not with Michael, at least. He is practically some sort of higher up to her. Yes, they're friends. But they're also colleagues. But she really doesn't have herself under control right now. Ava really shouldn't be accounted for the next few hours. Whatever happens; not her fault.

The striker can feel Michael tense up, undiscovered territory for the both of them.

And, let's be honest here, Michael has never been much of an explorer. „Thank you. For everything you did for me, and my career. You really saved my ass, Manage-Michael." She whispered and pat him on the back twice before pulling back.

She clapped her hands, regaining and collecting whatever the fuck she just lost and said „Let's check this baby out completely, yeah?"

Ava can't really believe her luck. This flat is fucking awesome. The bedroom is incredibly cosy but big enough and her bathroom looks like an actual bathroom and not like some rundown public swimming pool cabin.

„The things you took with you should be here soon. We deposited them at the training ground and someone will drop them off soon." Michael says, lounging on the couch and tapping away on the phone. „And.. I will need to get going soon aswell. Are you gonna survive without me or will I find a sea of tears tomorrow morning?"

Ava snorts and kicks in his direction. It's already afternoon which means it’s almost evening and Ava feels a little antsy. She can't wait to train here. To properly meet the team and to fucking finally play on her actual good level again. A few minutes of mutually silent phone scrolling later and Michael gets up.

„Your bags are here, let's get going." Ava follows him down to the reception.

Ava really doesn't remember packing this much stupid shit. Michael already dipped. The asshat let her alone with two huge duffel bags because his own stuff just arrived at his new apartments. As if she didn't have a fucked up bag already, she shoulders both bags with a criss cross technique that definitely does not hurt her shoulders and cuts into her throat in the slightest. Definitely not. And her back will also be thanking her for this the second the weight will be off of her.

She somehow stumbles up into the elevator, tumbling down her hallway until she halts infront of her door. Her elctric key is in her back pocket. As she tries to grab it, she realizes that her arms are somewhat entangled with the criss crossed shoulder straps and that she is a little.. stuck in her movement. One of the flaps managed to completely get caught under the other bag and is probably restricting three thirds of her blood flow in her arm. Ava groans and twists her upper body, trying to free her arm out of its slung to no avail. Ava also tries to shimmy the bags off completely but also with no results.

Ava struggles a little more before she hears a door somewhere on this floor be opened. This is about to be the best neighborly introduction Ava has ever been a part of. Ava turns her head and immediately wants to disappear.

Fuck.

It's the hot goalie. That's her neighbor. Beatrice. Oh fuck.

She redirects her entire body towards, stumbling a little with the ridiculous weight distribution. The Goalkeeper paused to look at Ava, eyebrow raised. Ava shrugs her schoulders as best as possible and she can feel the warmth spreading up into her cheeks. What a first real impression.

Beatrice is now smiling the tiniest bit. Slightly bemused. Her posture is unbelievably straight and she looks incredibly well put together in a casual way.

She still has a trainings tee on, shoulders and arms on display. Clearly nothing she should ever, ever hide. Her hair is slightly damp, presumably from a shower and a pair of glasses sit atop her nose. If Ava weren't in this.. compromising position, she would drop sone sort of comment. But all that left her mouth was: „I could.. maybe.. Uhh- can you maybe help me?" She croaks, her throat a little hoarse. Beatrice chuckles and lets her head drop before coming closer, two tiny strands falling infront of the glasses.

Okay what the actual fuck. Ava just wants to turn around and waddle away because she might just melt. This is the literal definition of Kryptonite. Ava was never one to be really resistant to a pretty woman's charm. But this- God.

„Well." Ava giggled and felt the redness spread. „How can I help, Ava?" Beatrice smiles and awaits the instructions. Ava dies at the fact that she knows her name, but strong as she is, doesn't let it show. „It would be lovely if you could free my arms from their straight jacket, please." Ava looks down and shrugs in a „I have no idea how that happened" way. „I‘m Beatrice and it’s lovely to properly meet you like this.“

„Now.. I don't want to overstep but.. how does a very athletic person end up this trapped in- duffel bags?" Beatrice asks as she starts untwisting the straps and slowly lets blood run into her fingers again. Ava snorts. „Michael left me to my own devices, usually that doesn't end too well." She states as she frees her left arm with Beatrice lifting the bag. „She shakes it free and groans, the entire arm tingling and rising in temperature.

„Michael?" Beatrice asks, a little curious. „My manager." Ava sighs as she lets the second duffel bag drop to the floor. Beatrice nods. The silence is awkward for the tiniest amount of time before the goalie continues. „Will you be there tomorrow morning for training?“

Ava was close to dropping „everything for you“ but she realized she might have to regain her composure around the goalie for a little while longer. She’s been here literal seconds and this is getting ridiculous. She smiles but shakes her head. „Yup. Tomorrow morning is my first session so I can get.. acquainted with everything first.“ Beatrice nods and pushes her glasses up a little. Ava only now notices the small straps of the training bag on beatrice‘s shoulder. „And you? Extra sesh?“ Ava asks and gestures to the bag. Beatrice straightens her back ever so slightly and politely shakes her head. „Weight room.“ She simply answers and the striker can’t help but glance at her arms again.

Un - fucking - fair.

„Well. It was nice formerly meeting my neighbor and soon to be goalscorer.“ Beatrice smiles again. „I will see you tomorrow.“ „Yes, tomorrow. Exactly. Yeah. I‘m excited.“ Ava stutters as Beatrice moves past her towards the elevator.

Oh good lord. Ava is slightly, just slightly regretting everything now. This is ought to be interesting. Ava gets out her keycard and spends the next two hours sorting, re-sorting and moving stuff around before dropping into her (freshly changed) sheets and scrolls on her phone.

She spends a lot of time on instagram when suddenly her inbox gets flooded.

She looks at the time. 8 pm.

Oh, right.

Ava was told the official news will be posted around 8. The pictures itself look good, she doesn’t nearly come of as nervous as she felt that second. The jersey also looks pretty great on her, so it’s not bad. As she scrolls through the comments, she really didn’t know what to expect. Many people were surprised, some were a little wary but most of the responses were downright- excited?

She never had that before. Usually when she transferred, she wasn’t nearly big enough to be a talking point, especially after her injury. It‘s true that she is considered to be one of the most promising young talents but nobody really cares the second they get injured. Injuries this big can and certainly almost always will, kill the reputation of young players. If you are gone for more than a year, you are almost forgotten because new young talents arise and you do not have the stats to back it up.

It’s stressful. It puts a lot of strain onto your confidence and also your rehab schedule. Because you feel like injuries should only last a certain time and if you overstep, there’s no way that things will go back to normal. That’s what Ava felt like, at least.

Scrolling around the comments and women‘s football news pages, Ava feels her eyes begin to droop. Today has been incredible full of emotions and new things that it completely wore her out. It‘s now almost nine and Ava adjusts her alarm before going to sleep, thinking about training.

And for once, that thought didn’t want to make her crawl even deeper into the blankets.

Chapter Text

Ava very quickly realized that the french way to train massively fucked her up. Well okay.. Not massively, she is a professional athlete after all, but she did almost throw up after the first rounds of 1000's sprints. You'd think Ava's love for running would have her covered for this but- oh boy.

It's her first session in the new facility in london and Ava thoroughly enjoyed it for a whole of twenty minutes, before being absolutely demolished by cardio training. Cardio training has always been her least favorite activity when it comes to sports. Don't get her wrong, she absolutely loves running and sprinting. She is incredibly fast and loves reaching her highest tempo and overall pushing her body to its limit, but getting her body used to the immense impact and intensity, especially when it comes to breathing? Torture. Running once until the limit? Fine. Running five times and exceeding the limit? Extreme fucking torture, but luckily, it's worth it. She was just glad her body was in a position where it only has to recall muscle memory most of the time.

When she came in this morning, no bag, no shoes, only vibes, everyone had been nice to her. The coaching staff all introduced themselves warmly and explained what and where to do and to get. After meeting with the equipment team and Grace, the kit woman, Ava made her way towards the changing rooms. She was chitchatting with Camilla while putting her gear on, gossiping with Dora during the warm up round, getting Mary to explain the drill to her and generally greating and shaking hands with all of the girls.

Now, after regaining her bodily abilities and somehow containing most of her internal fluids, Ava cannot shake the grin out of her face. The typical post „near-death-experience" face, for sure. „Someone's happy." Mary states, bumping shoulders as they make their way to the bottle station at the side of the pitch. „You don't even know." Ava grins, breathlessly. „It's good to see someone this genuinely happy here. The general mood hasn't been too great with all our injuries. Refreshing to see someone else beside Camilla have sunshine streams out their arse." Mary explains, pulling the gatorade bottle cap up before squirting it into her mouth.

Ava chuckled a bit timidly. Ava knows that she definitely got her sparkle back, but for other people to already notice, is a little intimidating. At least she is happy for now. But, a fresh change of.. everything, pretty much, will do that to you. And she is eternally grateful for that. As she drank some of the isotonic drink, her eyes automatically scanned her surroundings. The facility was huge and incredibly modern, three pitches available at all times solely for the women's and women's academy teams. She looked around, taking in the accomplishments displayed at the side on the gravel walk. Mutiple league titles in the last decade, four times in a row the domestic cup winners and, the biggest ones, championsleague winners twice. They haven't won it in forever, though. The OCS reached the final four times out of the last five but always lost. Ava caught up with the fact that they want to try and change that this season.

That's what Ava wants. To win and achieve everything, with a team she likes and.. to be feeling happy standing on a pitch again. As her eyes trailed along carelessly, she stopped as she spotted a familiar pony tail of dark brown hair quite a few feet away. She was standing between the posts of the goal that was moved a little inside of the field. Their goalkeeping coach standing behind the far post, ball in hand. Beatrice was turned towards him, light on her feet and waiting to catch the ball which was drop-kicked towards her.

Her hair swayed as she bounced a little on her tiptoes and she threw the ball back. Tim, the coach, moved a little inwards, towards the middle of the pitch, placed on ball down and told Beatrice to position herself properly. The goalie turned a little, making it possible for Ava to see her side profile. Her heart picked up as she carefully examined her defined features and sharp expression, solely focusing on the task.

Tim shoot the ball low and fast, towards Beatrice's far post and she dove, effectively stopping the shot before quickly getting up on her feet again and returning the ball with good percision. Her eyes never leaving Tim and the other ball's surrounding him. Good lord, that expression is killing Ava a little bit. The sharp eyes squinting a little, eyebrows furrowed and the jaw flexing and unflexing. Ava has to actively keep her mind in check to not drift away completely. „I know that she is a good goalkeeper, but really, there's no need to drool." Mary interrupted Ava's entertainment very rudely, making Ava flinch and squeeze a little gatorade out of the bottle. Mary snorted before closing Ava's bottle with a thump. „I'm not drooling! I'm appreciating talent." Ava defended, pushing her hands into her hips like a disappointed mother.

Mary's lip quirked, trying to surpress the most obvious grin. „Sure you are." She said and took Ava's bottle out of her hand, throwing the both on the ground and pulling Ava towards Haloran, who is waiting for everyone to file in to explain the first actual drill. Halloran relied more on a walking cane lately than Ava would've thought.

It's easy enough. It's a rather simple passing pattern to get the team to get used to eachothers movements. Because, unsurprisingly, Ava is not the only new signing. Francis, one defender from germany is, along with a few academy players who are training with the first team for the first time, also completely new here. Dora explained to her that the team is currently in a „redefining stage". A few people left, more than three are out with long term injuries and Halloran had to think quick. Therefore: here Ava is along with a shy german and a few teenagers. That will definitely be an.. interesting experiment, for sure.

They are split into multiple teams, positioned in all four corners of the designated area. In the middle there are few poles and cones used as obstacles or stoppage points. The difficulty with this drill is the coordination between all four groups who mingle with each other at the same time.

The first few passes are.. rough. Some are overhit, some just barely trickle in and others go completely wide. Suzanne scrunches her eyes and Ava has to stop herself from laughing. They must look like a wild bunch of kids, running, tripping and overhitting everything. After a minute or two, everything slowly clicked into place. Everybody knew when to go around a pole or when to stop to receive a ball, with how much power to hit and where to give the ball to next person. It started being easy. And despite Ava's many fears that nothing will feel the same, especially with the ball at her feet, she feels utterly at peace with the ball at the feet while being shouted at for needing to pass the ball. It's great.

They continued with another passing and finishing drill but this time in open field. Two teams, One attacking, one defending and the goal for the attacker was to make quick, two-touch movements and passes before scoring, gaining points for their team. The attacker team has an entirety of 10 passes before the ball will be the defenders ball. Meaning: If the attackers don't score within 10 passes, they are a little fucked and now have to defend. The defenders have to intercept before a goal or before the ten passes are over to earn points. If done successfully they then turn into the attacking team. It's a little brain boggling, but Ava has done it enough times to know what to do. Or- she at least she fully believes so.

Ava was in the first round of the game with Camilla, Mary, Dora and the academy player Jess. Position wise, everything was pretty clear and despite being the shortest, Jess was determined to go in goal because they lacked an actualy goalie. Confidence is key, is what they say. They didn't have time to actually discuss tactics or anything, but they started by having Jess punt the ball towards the designated midfielder Camilla. She looked around, aiming to make the game quick and saw that Mary ran into open space, completely ignoring the opponent and pointed at her feet. Camilla passed and Mary looked up, scanning the field with a speed Ava was throughly impressed by. The general intensity is a lot higher than she's used to and Ava fucking thrives in it.

„Ava! Run through!" Mary yelled and Ava doesn't need to be told twice. She made her way through the two defenders as Mary punched the ball all the way to Ava. She was not yet free entirely but managed to steal the first touch, stretching her foot out infront of her, pushing the ball with enough room to move out of the defenders grasp and shoot directly into the goal. „Yes Ava! That's the way to go!" Mary cheered for her and as Ava moved back into position, got herself a high-five from her teammates. Fucking hell it's good to be back.

Being back in high quality training is something she needed so badly. She was out for so long, having to concentrate on.. regaining mobility and learning how to walk again that football wasn't even in the top ten things in her mind. The last few weeks back in france were.. not great. The entire system in the club had started to break and the intensity was not what everyone, especially the higher ups, were focused on.

Here in london though? Completely different. The club was fucking balls deep in crisis mode but nobody lost their head or let anything affect the quality of the sessions. Ava loved it. The rest of the scrimmage drill was increasingly more fun. The longer Ava played with Mary and Camilla behind her,  the more she found her flow. She even assisted Camilla to an absolute screamer and witnessed a very awkward but incredibly cute flying arm celebration. After switching groups, Ava had time to sit back and observe.

Beatrice was part of the second group, positioned right before where the dark blonde striker sat on the floor, legs sprawled out, gaze locked on the gloved woman between the sticks. Ava loved football as much as she loved strong women with muscles. Sue her.

Beatrice had an intense aura constantly swiveling around her. Her face is stern but not rude, her back straight and her demeanor excudes pure concentration. It's incredibly attractive as a whole. Now paired with the bicep muscles peeking out from the rolled up sleeves and the way she claps the gloved hands together everytime the opponent received the ball? Ava was a fan, that's for sure. She, however, mentally pushed herself into the cold shower because that's her new teammate. Not somebody she just met in a cute bookstore.

Nici, the oponent currently trying to put one past Beatrice, started to pick up the pace, running up the pitch on the right side with incredible ball handling. Ava whistled appreciative when she let the last defender slip up after a body feint. Beatrice went into the slightest squat position and closed the near post. Lifting her head, Nici saw her chance and shot, aiming top bins at the far post. And.. to be fair, it was an incredible fucking shot. The ball curled perfectly right into the goddamn corner if it wasn't for Beatrice's arm tipping it just over the crossbar after the most angelic dive Ava has ever seen live.

„What the actual fuck, Beatrice!" Mary shouted and laughed, running up to the goalie to shove her.. lovingly? Ava is not yet sure with Mary's antics. Nici looked a little discouraged about her absolute banger being safed but Beatrice made her way to the young midfielder and patted her on the head affectionately. „Incredible shot, Nicole! That's what I want to see!" She clapped a few times again before flexing her neck and taking position between the posts again. Fuck. her.

After training, Ava got herself some lunch in the canteen and talked with Camilla about the league in england. „Well, I'm sure you know the basics of the league system.." She drawled with some noodles in her mouth. Lilith, who sat a few metres away, scolded her for talking with her mouth full and Camilla only smirked at her. Ballsy. Ava wouldn't dare do this or she's certain her ACL would have the same tragic end as Lilith's. „Yeah. I know. I want to know the inside shit you know? The things only players or.. Staff would know." Ava answered and filled her glass of water. „Well.. Okay. Rivalries are big in England. Our london rivals are.. annoying, really. The players are way too cocky and the fans are actually insufferable. You will meet them soon enough, so don't worry." Camilla smiled. And yes, Ava knew about the rivalries.

It's one of the things Ava looks forward to the most. She is an absolute menace when she's allowed to be. And when is it a better time to be the most hated person on the pitch than in a derby? „We have one of the best infrastructures in a league system actually. If you look across europe you'll see that many have intense problems when it comes to facilities and paying the players ecetera. We don't really have that here." Camilla concluded and stuffed her mouth again. Ava nodded. „I noticed. In france it was.. strange. The discrepancy between two players in the same team was so strangely high. But not- in the right way. Some people barely had enough to eat for the month and others were living their best lives." Camilla looked up at that again. „Oh man. It sucks so much that professional female athletes have to go through things like that." Ava hummed in agreement. She had been in the lower middle, but definitely not as bad as some players who were only brought as a reserve.

Camilla looked like she thought of something else to say when she let out an „Oh!" Ava lifted an eyebrow. „Funfact: This league has many couples across different teams. It's a little funny to look at actually." Ava snorted. The stereotype that all womens footballers are lesbians is wrong, but definitely has a root in truthfulness. It's definitely a lot more open and more inclusive that the men's game has ever been. „Have there been some big rival weddings?" Ava asked, smirking. Camilla laughed and nodded excitedly. „There has been! Here, actually." Ava choked a little, not knowing anyone here was married.

„Mary's wife, Shannon, played for the rivals quite sometime. Even during the time where the both of them got married. It was adorable, though! The party afterwards was a little awkward because we were supposed to play eachother eight days after the wedding and basically the entire teams were there but.. it made it less boring." Ava smiled. „I need to see pictures." She concluded and giggled as Camilla excitedly fumbled for her phone.

Some time later, Ava sat herself down in the break room. Right infront of Beatrice whose nose was burried in a book. Glasses sit comfortably before her eyes and her hair, tucked behind her ears, is still wet from a shower. Cute.

They were alone in the room, nothing to do except rest. They were free to go until afternoon for a quick video session but.. since Ava‘s home didn’t really feel like a home yet, she decided company will have to do. Ava took out her phone and answered a few dm‘s since Beatrice did not seem like the type to make casual conversation with.

After a minute, Beatrice looked up at Ava, head tilted slightly. Ava met her gaze. „What?“ She asked and chuckled nervously. The piercing glance enough to make her shiver. „Were you not intending to talk to me?“ Beatrice asked, a slight hint of a smirk in her voice. Ava swallowed. „You-“ her voice breaks slightly. Jesus get a grip, woman! She clears her throat. „You don’t seem like a person to appreciate my enormous amount of talking.“ She said truthfully. Beatrice closed her book. „Well then. Why are you here at this table?“ She asked in this intense british accent. „Because I wanted company?“ Ava retorted the tiniest bit harsh. „And you do not speak to your company?“ Now she was breaking out in a smile and Ava was feeling a little agitated. „Well.. why didn’t you speak to me?“

„Mh. Okay I have a thing to say to you, actually.“ Beatrice straightened her back. Ava leaned back, finding this entire interaction way too confusing and.. a little too intriguing.

„You lack defensive skills.“ Ava‘s eyes were sure to fall out of her skull. Because what the actual fuck. Her mouth fell open and Beatrice opened her book again. „You- I- Wha..“ She couldn’t even finish a single word. „Okay what the fuck.“ Ava laughed. „That’s what you decided on telling me? Not a simple „Hey Ava, how you doin‘?“ or a „How was training Ava?““

Beatrice closed her book again and laid her hands atop. Long slender fingers decorated with a few rings interlocking. And Ava would definitely find this hot if she wasn’t so confused. „Well.. You didn’t specify what you wanted to talk about. I noticed your lack of defensive work today in the training drill. And the shock factor will keep you thinking about it everytime you need these skills. The second you had to work back, your mind was too slow and you began to pass sloppily and your positioning was not correct.“ Ava laughed a little bitterly. „Okay, Miss „I-notice-everything.“ That was still rude to say.“ She pouted.

„I apologize. But I thought that you definitely need to know what to work on. Because your forwarding skills are excellent.“ Beatrice concluded and Ava felt a rosy warmth begin to rise from her chest. Oh for fucks sake. She crossed her arms and leaned back, still pouting. „Great. Now I‘m insecure.“

Beatrice chuckled and got up. „I can teach you defensive skills if you want. It’s kind of my specialty.“ She smiled and grabbed her bag before moving out lf the break room. The striker looked at her phone and realized it was time to go into the film room. Oooh boy, she was in for a ride.