I thought I hated that man before. Little did I know I could despise a man more than y/b/n (sorry Everton fans). The staff acting like they'd just won the league. Grow up, are we that superior that they go mental with a draw? For them, it felt like a win; for us a loss, even though we shared the points.
You know it's bad when Scott doesn't post on social media after he's scored.
I think you could say I was a little angry last night. I made a mistake of bringing on Axel, and now he's getting racially abused. I'm taking full responsibility, similar to what I said to the media. It needs to stop, there was a reason why we changed the Manchester United social media pages.
I left Scott to it last night, as he was just as pissed (if not more) than me. I slept in the room which was originally mine before we got together.
Now the storm is (kind of) over, I wandered to his room to see him sleeping peacefully. There's no time for rest yet as we've got West Ham in the FA Cup on Tuesday. Both teams don't get much of a rest, but they drew with West Brom, which is a bit different to Everton.
"Tommy, wake up," I lightly shook him. "We need to get ready for training. Come on,"
"y/n, no. Leave me alone." He turned over so he wasn't facing me.
I was taken back a bit, he hadn't called me y/n for ages. Even with the lads, he called me y/n/n (your nickname).
"Scotty, I get your mad at the result and I bet your mad at me for bringing on Axel. I regret bringing him on more than anyone, as he gave the free-kick away in the end. My apologies can't change the actions what happened last night. Nothing can. I'm sorry for letting you down, Tommy, but my words won't be good enough. I hope you can learn to forgive me, but at the rate we're going, we will be late for training, so we need to get going."
I gave him a weak smile at the doorway then went down the stairs. I made him his cup of tea and put it to the side as I ate my breakfast. Scott walked through, grabbed his tea, mumbled a quick "Thanks," and sat next to me. An awkward silence filled the room while we ate. I went to take a quick shower once I finished and did my hair and teeth. I got dressed and sat on the sofa to go on social media. I made a post on Instagram.
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@yourusername
Old Trafford
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(imagine it's you)
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@yourusername: Gutted with the result last night. We deserved the win, the draw was harsh. I can only apologise for the mistakes I made, I wish I could take them back. These mistakes cost us the win, and I take full responsibility. Though, we pick ourselves up and move on to West Ham. #GGMU
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Scott soon joined me in the living room. He just sat there, staring into midair. It was as if we had ran out of the words to say. I had enough of it, so I decided to speak up.
"Tom-"
"Don't call me that." Scott gave me a death stare; I probably would be lying on the ground motionless if looks could kill.
"Okay, Scott, will you stop being so blunt and harsh in your tone? It's taking the biscuit,"
"No. You fucked up last night, and my goal could have been the winner."
"You think I don't know that? I nearly cried myself to sleep for god's sake."
"Stop being bitchy, you're not getting past me," he huffed. "I could have scored the winner, but if it weren't for you thinking you were god's gift, we would have won."
"I never once thought I was God's gift. I tried being defensive to secure the win but clearly, it backfired-"
"You don't say."
"Scott, if I could turn back time I would change everything I did last night. I know you could've scored the winner, I've never felt this down because of a game ever before. I'm sorry, Scott. I'm sorry I messed up, I'm sorry I tried to do something different, I'm sorry that I let you and the lads down. I know it won't be enough, but it's a start."
I looked at him deep in the eyes. My defences were broken; he could see through me. Tears lightly brimmed my eyes as he moved back in his seat, his mouth gaping open.
"y/n, I-"
"Don't pull the pity card on me. We'll talk after training; I don't want to be late."
I got up, grabbed my bag and strolled out the door. I noticed he had his head in his hands as I looked through the window. I got into my car and drove off to Carrington.
