Chapter Text
It is the 2022 FIFA world cup, Argentina vs. France. It is currently tied 3-3 and penalty shootout takes over. France missed two. Argentina didn't miss a single one. If Gonzalo Montiel scores. Argentina wins the world cup. He sets up the ball for the shot.
Kylian Mbappe holds his breath as he does so. He shoots. The ball flies right past Hugo Lloris and hits the net. The crowd erupts in cheers, shaking the whole stadium. Everyone on the Argentina team runs to Lionel Messi, pulling him into a giant hug.
Kylian stays frozen, staring at the net. France lost, Kylian lost. He wipes his face with his hand, then rubs his eyes. His body feels empty, like a bottomless pit, full of disappointment. What if he scored in the first half instead of playing like shit? What if his team didn't let him down? He feels like crying, but his pride stops him. Kylian starts to notice a bunch of cameras around him, so he walks away. "Kylian Mbappe scored a hat trick, and still lost!" A reporter says nearby zooming a camera in on his face.
Ousmane walks up to Mbappe and looks at him with guilt. "Im sorry.." He mumbles before pulling Kylian into a hug. Kylian wraps his arms around him gently. Dembele eventually pulls back and wipes a tear from his eye, then walks away.
Kylian collapses onto the ground, and sighs, he rests his hands on his knees. "Kylian." He hears someone say to him,but he doesn't move. He then feels a hand on his shoulder, so he turns around to see Lionel Messi with the Argentina flag draped on his shoulders. "Kylian, you played phenomenal tonight. I am so, so proud of you." He says softly to the younger one. Kylian lets out a hurt laugh, then shakes his head, "Lionel, I really want to believe you, but you know I played shitty." Messi lets out a small laugh. "Don't say that kid, keep your head up, this was one of your best games." He says softly looking Kylian in the eye. He squeezes his shoulder, before pulling away.
Enzo Fernandez practically drags Lionel to the team, and they take turns kissing the trophy. A wave of déjà vu washes over kylian as he watches. He bites his tounge hard, until he tastes blood, then holds back another wave of tears. Kylian gets rewarded the golden boot, in honor of scoring the most goals. He takes pictures with the FIFA president, and some other people he assumes are staff. Then Kylian participates in some interviews, "Yeah, we should've done better today, but it is what it is.." once they are satisfied, they let him go.
The bus ride was mostly silent, a few words here and there. "Kylian Mbappe!" The coach yell. He instantly snaps out of his thoughts and turns to him. "Kylian, I called your name over 4 times. Tu as marqué un coup du chapeau, le football c'est le football." (You had a hat trick, football is football.) The coach says then gives him a pat on the head. Kylian nods and looks at his golden boot. Its supposed to be an award, a prize for all of his goals. But right now, it feels like a gift of mockery, a gift for letting the world cup trophy slip right out of his hands. France could've made history. They could've been the first team ever to have two wins in a row. But instead, his own teammate crushed the dream. The person who took Neymar from Kylian. Bullshit Kylian thought.
When the bus finally arrived at the hotel, everyone said goodnight to each other before heading to their rooms. Kylian fumbled through his bags, looking for the key. He eventually found it and unlocked his door, and opened it. When he did, he saw his father sitting on the desk chair, looking at him. "Kylian, we need to talk." He said softly. Kylian runs into his arms, letting all of the pain out.