One day I'll have it all. // Williamson

London Colney

"Fuck me..." I whispered, my suitcase in my hands, looking down the stairs. The airport was full of Arsenal fans. Patiently, or impatiently waiting.

I knew they weren't waiting for me but for the girls to come back from Portugal. But
it still made my heart full to see that. I looked up to the glass ceiling, and the grey London sky welcomed me, contrasting with the constant sun my California usually offered.

The chill in the London air sent a shiver down my spine as I navigated through the bustling airport. The Arsenal fans' enthusiasm echoed in my ears, drowning out the typical airport announcements.

I made my way to the arrivals area, my eyes scanning the crowd for familiar faces. The sight of red and white scarves and jerseys only intensified my anticipation. Maybe they weren't waiting for me this time, but the idea of being part of such a passionate fan base thrilled me.

As I descended the stairs, I couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging, a subtle shift from the sunny fields of California to the football fervor of London. My suitcase clattered behind me. A girl seemed to recognize me, but only squinted her eyes at me, before turning around to wait with the rest of the girls.

I found a man a few minutes later, holding a white sheet of paper with my name on it. He was dressed in a black suit, elegantly.

His expression was composed, almost stoic, as he awaited my arrival. A stark contrast to the lively fans around. I approached him, my steps echoing through the corridor.

"Valentina Villanueva?" he inquired, his tone carrying a touch of formality.

"Yeah, that's me," I replied, offering a half-smile.

"Welcome to London. I'm your driver," he stated, extending a hand. I shook it, appreciating the firmness of his grip.

Without time to waste, he took my suitcase, and walked me to his sleek black SUV. I thanked him as he opened the door to me. I settled inside, and almost jumped seeing someone was already in there.

A woman was sitting in the backseat, smiling at me.

"Good morning, miss Villanueva, how was your flight?" She asked. Her hair was brown, and her accent thick. I returned her smile, slightly taken aback by her unexpected presence.

"Hello, um... my flight was okay. Just a bit long," I replied, still adjusting to the time difference and the new setting.

She nodded knowingly, her eyes scanning me briefly. "I'm Emma, by the way. Part of the club's support staff. I handle player logistics and such." She explained, as I felt the car move from our parking spot. I took a glance at the chauffeur, and smirked, seeing he was on the left side of the car. This was going to need some getting used to. I looked back at Emma and offered her a polite smile.

"Nice to meet you."

Emma returned the smile, her eyes reflecting a mix of warmth and professionalism. "Likewise, Valentina. I hope your transition to London goes smoothly. We're thrilled to have you on board."

I nodded, appreciating the genuine welcome.

"I understand if you're tired. We haven't scheduled anything for today, really. But if you're up for it dear, how about a visit of the training center? The other players aren't back yet from the training camp in Portugal, but you can still visit the venue
if you'd like."

I sighed, realizing the jet lag was starting to catch up with me, but the excitement pushed me forward.

"Yeah, sure. A quick look around wouldn't hurt," I replied, secretly eager to familiarize myself with my new football
home.

Emma nodded approvingly, and as the car smoothly maneuvered through the London streets, she shared snippets about the team and the city. Her words painted a picture of the vibrant football culture and the rich history of Arsenal. Of course, I knew all about it already. I had been a Gooner for what seemed like forever.

As we approached the training center, my excitement grew. The iconic red-bricked facility stood proudly against the backdrop of the grey sky. The air was filled with the scent of wet grass, a far cry from the familiar aroma of California.

Stepping out of the car, I marveled at the Arsenal crest adorning various parts of the building.

"Welcome to London Colney!" Emma announced with a smile, as I couldn't keep my eyes off the front building. "Come on, we'll get you your merch and kits, then I'll show you around."

I followed Emma into the training center, a mix of nerves and eagerness bubbling within me. The familiar red-and-white colors adorned the hallways, and I felt like a kid in a candy store.

In the equipment room, the scent of freshly printed jerseys filled the air. Emma handed me a kit, and as I ran my fingers over the Arsenal crest, a surge of pride washed over me. The realization hit that I wasn't just a fan anymore; I was part of this club.

She then proceeded to list me a bunch of equipment that the club offered me, while the kit-man next to her put them all in sports bags, before bringing them to the car waiting at the entrance of the facility. I kept my jersey in my hands, not wanting to let go of it just yet.

We continued the tour. It seemed like the place was enormous. The different pitches were astoundingly green and well maintained, the gym was high tech and extremely well organized, the cafeteria was big and inviting, and the conference room, serious and intimate.

And it was surrounded by gardens and water. It was a different world from the casual Californian kickabouts, but I was eager to embrace it.

Emma and I eventually made our way back to the car, as she explained to me how tomorrow was going to work. I would sign my contract, wearing the Arsenal kit, then have my picture taken alongside the coach, before meeting my new teammates and playing my first ever training with them.

I wasn't nervous about the press, wasn't nervous about meeting coach Jonas, and wasn't nervous about signing my name at the bottom of a contract.

But damn, was I nervous to meet the other players.