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𝚣𝚊𝚑𝚛𝚊
2-1 Manchester United
nothing will hurt the fans more than loosing to our rivals
Coach's words rang through my head as I sat in the dressing room, my forearms resting on my thighs.
this is my fifth red card of the season.
I looked up as the girls started to pile in.
Rose sat down beside me and sent a sympathetic look.
"2-1 at home!"
I jumped.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at Coach.
"you robbed the fans of a win and yourselves of dignities!"
She began to ridicule everyone's performance, but when she got to me, I knew I was over with.
"Ramos you were the worst one out there today! your inability to keep your head in the game costed us these points! come on!"
My jaw clenched.
"worst one out there!? I was the only one who fucking scored!" I yelled back matching her same energy.
She sent me a glare then stormed out.
I grabbed my bag and slammed my locker shut.
I refuse to take this kind of disrespect after all I've done for this bullshit of a club.
I'm a fucking Ramos for gods sake who dares to talk me like that?
I ignored the girls calls from behind me and left.
My knuckles turnt white from the grip I had on the wheel.
I don't think I've ever been this mad after a match.
Better yet, no coach has ever spoke to me like that.
I shook my head letting my foot sink into the gas pedal.
"fuck Manchester"
I'm out
3:00am
"Welcome to Nice, France"
what?
You didn't believe that I was actually going to leave?
I pulled my hood up as I walked to the counter.
"bonjour"
I smiled.
"bonjour. I'm here to pick up my car"
"under what name?" She asked.
"Ramos"
"the Mercedes, correct?"
