𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 // 𝐣𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫

✰ 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞

THE SECOND HANNAH stepped onto the training pitch, where she could see the national team already doing their warm-ups ahead of their first practice in Chicago, she regretted the amount of clothes she was wearing. The windy city during the summer wasn't as windy, and she could hear a chuckle as Jordan Henderson walked by her, the smile playing on his lips. "You know, Hannah, if you're cold, you can always step inside. I'm sure you won't miss anything important from this session anyway; it's just for us to find our feet, really."

               Though his words seemed sincere, he chuckled as he spoke, and soon found himself face to face with a sneering ( and tired ) Hannah, who was far from impressed about his way of choosing words. "I am not cold, but one would think the city nicknamed the windy city at least had a fucking hint of a wind, and didn't feel like a desert, temperature wise."

Jordan raised an eyebrow in slight confusion, glancing at Wayne as he passed by them. "Come on, Hendo — let's not anger the already angered Chihuahua." The Manchester United striker sighed heavily, wrapping an arm around Jordan's shoulders, as he pulled him along.

"Chihuahua my ass." Hannah muttered, rolling her eyes. While the rest of the players emerged from the dressing rooms, shortly after being finished with their warm-ups, Hannah found a place in the shade on the stands. The camera equipment she owned felt heavy in her hands as she lifted it from her bag; the same camera equipment that, though it was worth a lot, had been handed down to her as Marie once again had upgraded her own equipment.

She exhaled sharply as she fine-tuned the settings, double-checking that the lighting was right, before starting to shoot pictures of the team while they were training. No one had asked her to; she could see the media team's photographers down on the pitch, moving in between the players as they did light drills, but she couldn't just sit around for two hours, watching as twenty guys chased a ball in various forms.

Shouting could be heard as a handful fans approached the tall fence protecting the training field, and Hannah found herself grinning as she saw the team's reaction. Several of the boys didn't seem to know how to react, especially the younger, but the older, more routined players all grinned, waving and shouting greetings back at the fans. Both Roy Hodgson and Gary Neville stood patiently in the middle of the field, chuckling and speaking to each other in a low tone.

               Practice lasted another thirty minutes, before the team got told to hit the showers. By then, Hannah also found herself on the pitch, standing a little back, chatting with Gary.

               "Plan is, a few of the actors and actresses will be coming to practice with us for a couple of days, starting Thursday." The assistant manager revealed to Hannah. "I still don't really know how many, but I know they won't be more than us."

               "Thanks for not doing your research, so I can't do my research." Hannah rolled her eyes, still placing her camera equipment into her bag.

               "Come on, this whole bit with celebrity guests and funny things like that, things that have to do with the press, that's your division. Making an attempt at getting these absolute morons to not make a fool of themselves while playing together is my division." Gary rolled his eyes.

               "I'm pretty sure I could do your job, like, a thousand times better than you."

                 Gary scoffed, furrowing his brows at her. "I beg to differ, I've got a solid grip of how to do my job just fine, thank you."

                "Whatever you say, Neville." Hannah shrugged, keeping her eyes on his back as he returned to the squad. Chuckling, she returned to the stands, deciding to contact Jules. After all, if there was one person who'd know who would show up to train with the squad, it would be the head of the England media team. Quickly, Hannah typed the message, pressing send; she had no intention of calling her boss, knowing the time zones meant it was already evening in England, while the foreigners in Chicago still had the entire afternoon ahead of them.

Truth was, Hannah looked forward to exploring the city ( and though she loved both Marie and Dean, she was thankful she didn't have to explore the city with them ). She had done some research, and had even found a few of the locations where the One Chicago–shows had permits to film. Of course, she had chosen to seek out the permits for ' Chicago PD ', wanting to give herself another excuse for Dean to hate ( well, not necessarily hate, but feel somethinf he wasn't too used to — jealousy ) as she found herself with the possibility of sending him photos of Sophia Bush and Marina Squerciati; Dean's two big celebrity crushes.

Hannah was pulled out of her thoughts as her phone buzzed, a message from Jules lighting up the screen. The journalist was surprised to see her boss was still unsure which members of the cast would be arriving for a few training sessions, though Jules assumed at least one or two regulars from the shows would be present.

                "Hey, Hannah — you want to join us back to the hotel, or are you planning to spend your day here in the stands?" Gary chuckled from the pitch, his hands cupped around his mouth to make sure the journalist heard him. "I'll be able to hold the bus for, well, another five minutes? But you should probably come around pretty quickly."

                Shaking her head, Hannah gathered her things and moved down towards the pitch, joining the national team's assistant manager as they walked to the team-bus. "I didn't find out which of the cast will be joining us. Jules gave me a cryptic, but logical answer about the amount of people she assumed would show from each show." She explained, glancing over at Gary, waiting for a reaction from the man. "I guess you know what this means?"

                He turned to her, an eyebrow raised in confusion. "Don't be cryptic, Henderson; it's obvious I don't know what this means, isn't it?"

               "It means we all — Jules included — suck at Jules' job."