Cosmo's Luck // 𝐊𝐚𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐳

7.

"Fuck, it's penalties!" Aidan whines in disgrace, frantically pacing into the Club Box and back out onto the balcony again. "I can't handle this."

We were eventually collected by one of the higher members of the football club, who didn't look impressed when he found us. I can only assume the poor waitress accidentally forgot about us, and now she's not allowed to serve us again. I haven't actually seen her since, so I hope she isn't in too much trouble. We tried making small talk with the waiter to lighten his mood, but every conversation we made he shut down within an instant.

The cup final has been intense. There's been so many fouls, chances that have unluckily been offside, a few unbelievable shots that have been missed due to high pressure and panic. The skilled teams even went into extra time and no goals were conceded. Now, it's penalties. Penalties! Aidan has been going berserk beside me, making me feel just as twitchy and on edge. I'm practically standing on the silver railing at this point, thinking that leaning over it will get me closer to the trampled pitch. Forget drinks, this very moment right here is enough to help me get through all seven stages of grief!

"Jesus Christ!" Aidan gasps, dashing inside and leaving the door open. "Cass, I can't watch!"

"Stop being such a drama Queen!" I scoff, looking back to the door and pointing at him. "Get back out here!"

"Cass, if I celebrate Liverpool winning whilst surrounded by Chelsea fans then I'll get jumped!" Aidan mutters quietly, crouching down on the floor inside and putting his hands in front his mouth. "Who's taking the penalty?"

I sigh, turning to look down at the pitch. I squint a little to try and read the number, then gasp and smile. "Kai!"

Aidan scrambles to his feet, dashing to the barrier with such speed that he actually bumps into it, causing a complete commotion. My fingers briskly grip the railing as Kai places the clean ball on the white spot, then steps back and observes the vast goal net. I hold my breath as he focuses on the net, ignoring the bouncy distracting goal keeper in the centre. Finally, he runs forward, slows down a little half way through, then shoots with as much power and precision as he can. The ball lands straight in the back left corner of the net, and the Chelsea fans go nuts! I squeal and grab Aidan's arm, who feebly tries to hide his devastation on my burning shoulder.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Aidan grumbles, shaking his head.

"Get over yourself!" I scoff, letting go of him and pushing him back to the door, causing him to laugh.

The penalties went on forever, and Aidan traipsed around like a needy dog. He whinged, whined, celebrated and groaned. He drove me insane to the point where I completely blanked him out. I don't think he cared about the crowd around us anymore, but he was hiding his mini celebrations every time Liverpool got a goal. The penalties have made it around to the keepers, and the crowd simmers it's celebrations, ready to erupt like a volcano. Aidan clings onto my arm as I do to him, the pair of us squeezing tighter and tighter with every split second.

Kelleher steps up to the penalty spot; it's weird seeing a keeper standing in what would be his opposition's place. You can tell that he isn't used to it either, it isn't every day he has to take a penalty. He puts a gloved hand on his face, keeping himself composed as he scratches his stubbly chin. As the whistle pierces through the atmosphere for the 21st time, everyone gravely holds their breath. If Kelleher misses, then The Cup is ours, but if he scores then the ceaseless game continues. God, final death in any game is awful, but this is insufferable!

The keeper takes his shot, and it sails into the back of the net. Misery, impatience and strain surges through Stamford Bridge; the small crowd of Liverpool fans behind the goal net leaping and cheering for joy. I groan as well, putting a hand in front my face. Please, I just want this to end now! I obviously want Chelsea to win, but it's actually killing me!

"Come on Kepa." I mumble as the young keeper steps up to the mark.

"This is madness." Aidan remarks beside me, restlessly bouncing from foot to foot.

The 22nd whistle blows, and the antsy keeper gets ready. After a few steps on the spot, he runs up to the ball and takes his shot, and chaos erupts. Aidan grabs my arm as the ball skies over the crossbar and into the crowd, and my heart breaks for Kepa. Aidan, on the other hand, made a beeline for the Club Box, slamming the door shut beside him and celebrating triumphantly. The fans are already up and leaving, and I can't help but watch in shock. I didn't even realised that my jaw had dropped? Liverpool FC run towards the corner of the pitch, all of them jumping on their victorious keeper as Arrizabalaga slowly returns to his team. The team embrace him in a group-like hug, almost protecting him from the vile social media that's going to take over within the next week. The ceremonial music pounds out the stadium's defeaning speakers, shutting down the mixed emotions of the crowd. I retreat back inside with a sigh, finding Aidan on his back on the floor.

"What are you up to?" I ask, standing over him.

"I just need a minute." He smiles in bliss, his eyes closed as if he's in heaven or something. "This has been the best day of my life!"

"Yeah well, get up." I chuckle, grabbing his hand and helping him up. "We need to go before the crowd."

Our door knocks again, and the same stern waiter opens the door. Again, he isn't impressed, I can't imagine Chelsea loosing helps either. Aidan straightens himself up, pulling his tie off his shoulder with a frown on his face.

"Follow me to the car, please?" The waiter asks, holding the door open with one wide, flat hand. "You have a private escort."

"I could so get used to this!" Aidan grins, jumping in excitement before walking up to the waiter. "Lead the way please sir!"

My God this has all gotten to his head...

Once again, me and Aidan are taken down a labyrinth of corridors and let out at a quieter side of the stadium. There's still people walking around, but I think they're part of Chelsea... or Liverpool... I'm not sure. The anguished waiter points us over to a Range Rover with blackout windows, then locks the door behind us. We both take a deep breath as we're outside, taking a moment to have one last look back at the stadium. Then, we get into the back of the car, shutting the door behind us just as it hurriedly pulls away. Our car pulls away out of the same exit that the players use, and wired fans huddle around each side of the car. Cameras and phones press against the windows and flash, creating a thunderstorm scene inside the car. The driver mutters something in another language that I don't recognise, beeping his horn twice as a cameraman jumps in front the car. I can't help but look at Aidan and hold back a smirk, who gives me the exact same face in return.

"Fucking hell!" Aidan laughs, sliding down his seat as a phone nearly smashes through the spotless windows. "These lot are insane!"

"I think I might copy you." I chuckle, sliding down my smooth seat and crossing my legs. "This is insane!"

"You see why I wanted to get us out the way of the cameras earlier!" Aidan reminds me as the driver curses again. "This is basically my definition of hell!"

"Oh God, thank you my saviour!" I grin sarcastically. "It's not like the Live TV didn't catch us anyway?"