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Summary
Jarno felt his stomach twist. He hated this—hated him—hated the way Fernando could look at him like this was just another normal conversation, like nothing wrong had happened.
"I gave everything to that team," he went on, voice rising. “And the second they decided I wasn’t useful, they fucking discarded me.”
And still, still, Fernando didn’t react.
Jarno wanted to grab him, shake him, force him to say something. His pulse was hammering in his throat, breath coming uneven, the anger bubbling up hotter, faster.
"You think they wanted to keep you after your performances last season?"
OR
Jarno is tweaking out after being sacked and Fernando is winning the idgaf war
