perfume - marcus rashford

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

marcus was sent home from international duty, due to the private reasons of which were caused by grace.

he got to his (once shared) house, of where going through the front door caused immense pain to the manchester united forward.

because she walked out of it, and never came back.

he went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, sticking sky sports news on the television as he had nothing better to do.

the headline of which said 'breaking news: marcus rashford sent home from england camp' flashed across the screen whilst gareth southgate was taking his press conference.

"erm, yeah, rashy clearly wasn't right mentally due to something close to him, so it was soon made very clear to me by the way he was acting and with professional advice, that he wasn't ready to play for england. i knew that he wasn't like his usual, bubbly, always-cracking-jokes self, and he had to return home to reflect and for his family to be with him. i felt it was the right choice given the circumstance, and i'm sure that he will be watching this from home now, and i can only hope that all is well with him soon. he is an amazing player who will be missed from this camp." the england boss spoke on the screen, his wise words charming the youngster.

marcus then mentally noted to call him later to thank him for what he had done.

he soon got a message from juan mata, 'just seen sky, are you okay mate? let me know if you need anything,'

the mancunian responded. 'fancy a free-kick practice at carrington in 10? need to let out some steam,'

'of course! see you soon, i'll convince nemanja and david to come too,'

rashford's original intent worked, he knew that juan would ask the two experienced players of david de gea and nemanja matic to come along, as those three were incredibly close.

he got himself ready, and went to carrington, with the trio already waiting for him to arrive.

the four of them greeted each other, before walking around and heading towards the pitches which the men use.

"psst, marcus!" england goalkeeper mary earps whispered to him. "d'you know what's up with g? she's not herself,"

he was surprised that the break up had an effect on her, given how she left. "oh, erm, we broke up, maz." he responded, slightly dazed.

nemanja, juan and david soon stopped walking, and turned around to face him, wide-eyed, and mary looked gobsmacked.

"i'm sorry to hear that, mate. i'm guessing that's why you got sent home," the forward nodded in response. "and that explains why she cried when she heard the news. shit! she'll kill me for telling you that, ignore me,"

"it's alright. don't worry about it," the mancunian looked down, eyes searching for something to keep focus on.

"mary! you coming for training?" the captain, katie, was heard shouting.

"coming! sorry if i reminded you, i'll keep it hush hush," mary said, before dashing off to katie. "sorry, zel, i was filling up my water bottle."

marcus then walked forward, mary's voice becoming more quiet and as if he were going out to the pitches, before being stopped by the bodies of the two spaniards and serbian.

"what? why didn't you tell us about you and grace?" david asked, placing his hand on marcus' shoulder.

"'cause i don't really believe it happened myself, so i'm not gonna blab about it to others when it seems like a nightmare to me."

he pushed past the three of them, getting a bag of balls from the store cupboard. "get some of the mannequins and we'll get out there. when i say i need to let out steam, i really meant it."

they never spoke again until they were out on the pitch, and saw the women begin to walk out for their usual session, training for the game against everton at old trafford.

and then his eyes met hers, and he saw her for the first time since the fight.

grace immediately looked away, and begun talking to vilde boe risa loudly, as if she was trying to prove a point.

"did i tell you that i met a guy the other night when we went out, with the girls?"

"what! that explains why you weren't with us for most of that night. wow, you moved on quickly,"

"what can i say, i broke up with him for a reason."

"you can't say that and then not expect me to be interested! spill,"

"well," she said, noticing that ella toone and alessia russo had begun to eavesdrop on their conversation. "his name is callum mccrae, he's around 6 foot in height, he's irish and his accent is to die for, he's a bartender at that pub, he's an absolute hottie and charmer not gonna lie, and that night we had together was arguably one of the best nights i've spent with a guy, ever."

alessia nearly fainted at the thought of this man she had never met. "look at you go, grace! good to hear you're getting on well without him," she then looked up, and noticed that he was on the pitch right next to theirs, and had definitely heard their conversation.

"grace," she whacked her hand against her abdomen, getting her attention, "you do realise that he is right there, don't you?"

"what?" the young woman acted oblivious, "oh, shit." her hand soon reached to cover her mouth, like a cartoon character.

the four girls then laughed it off, before going over to one of the coaches to begin training.

"you have got to be kidding me," nemanja spoke, scaring the living daylights out of marcus. "she did not just do that,"

"she did," david confirmed.

"she really did," juan enforced.

"i swear to god that woman," nemanja spoke, his thumb and index fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "how can she do that?"

"erm, by doing that?" juan responded,

"well no kidding, dummy. it's just that," the serbian sighed, "it's just that her ex is right in front of her and she just speaks about this irishman with an accent to die for who's called callum as if he was right next to her and that marcus doesn't exist."

"she's moved on, and it has been," marcus glanced at his watch, "four days," the englishman turned around, and just stared at the three of them.

"free kick practice sound really cool, we should start it now," david spoke, getting his gloves on and wandering over to the goal.

and they just practiced free kicks, mainly doing knuckleballs, with the keeper and two midfielders trying their best to make the forward feel slightly better about himself.