𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 ↦ 𝐣𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 ↦ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁 ↦ 𝗷𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗮𝗿𝗱

I stood there, arms crossed across my chest as the soft wind whipped at my hair. Despite the fact that it was the day I would finally meet Jesse after a couple days talking on the phone, I was barely nervous - my stomach was still and my heart wasn't pumping like crazy. Emma had convinced my to come here early, just in case he was early too - but she was wrong, yet again. Jesse was late by about twenty minutes: something which I didn't seem too surprised by. 

"I am so sorry," A voice sounded from behind me. I turned round, met by a cheesy grin, "Who knew there'd be so much traffic on a Thursday afternoon."

Jesse stood there, hands stuffed into his jean pockets with a sloppy grin plastered on his face. He was taller than I expected, but only by a few inches - his hair styled perfectly, his eyebrows knitted in confusion as he waited for me to greet him. Realising my mouth was agape with shock I closed it, my eyes still searching his face. 

Sunlight draped across his features - the curve of his upper lip, the bridge of his nose. 

"No! No worries, I only just got here myself." I lied, not wanting him to know I'd been here a while. He cocked his head to the left staring at me through hazel eyes. 

He offered me his arm, using it to guide me through the small crowds that pooled outside of shop windows. I was aware of a handful of camera people that mirrored our every walk, snapping the cameras once in a while. Jesse ducked his head down towards mine, "Every photo they take has to go through management, don't worry. If you don't like one it won't get released."

His words somewhat comforted me as the worries about angles and camera shadows slowly faded, my stomach fluttering at his kindness. I mentally kicked myself, reminding my brain to not fall into the routine of fancying Jesse too soon as the business deal might not even work out. Yet here I was, staring at the back of his head in awe.

"Me and Marcus usually eat here, can be well nice," He stopped outside a small Italian restaurant. Vines and orchids ran up and down the door-frame, a chalkboard menu propped against the grey washed walls, "We usually come after training, sometimes bring the rest of the lads as well, just depends really."

I so desperately wanted to tell him that I didn't care where we ate, or where he and Marcus usually ate, or when he'd come here to eat - I just wanted to sit inside and ask him about himself, find out stuff that he didn't include in the profile reference because it wasn't relevant at the time. Taking the lead I pulled him inside, choosing a table for two at the back of the room - away from all the windows and doors.

He opened a menu, scanning the list quickly before placing it in front of him, "So, you know Emma right?"

Taken aback I struggled to string together a sentence, "Yeah, of course I do! She's my best friend, we've known- Wait. How do you know her?"

"Through Dele." He shrugged, obviously unaware that Em' had lied to me for the past couple weeks. Ever since I had agreed to do this whole fiasco I'd begged her to speak to Dele about Jesse - just to see what he would be like. But she always said she'd forgotten or hadn't got round to asking him because the time wasn't right. Jesse noticed my expression, quietening his voice, "Look, Dele proper likes her and everything. Just if she's said different to you it's just her being insecure or something, I'm not sure. But he likes her. Bad."

"No it's not that, she knows it's probably gonna' turn serious."

"So what is it?" He placed his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his fist. Even in the dim light his skin shone, completely smooth and flawless.

"She just never mentioned that she met you, even when I asked her several times," I babbled, not wanting to dwell on the situation or make him think that I was a little weird. His eyes softened, watching me as I scanned the menu in order to move the conversation along. Yet, I couldn't decide on what I wanted to eat - or even if I was hungry anymore. Instead I felt a little disappointed (disheartened even) that my closest friend somewhat lied to me, "I'll probably order a little later, not really that hungry anymore."

"You have a pretty smile," Jesse complimented, his own mouth stretching into his signature grin, "Like for me, a smile is the most important. And when Mr. Powell phoned me and wanted to set this whole thing up I literally told him - no word of a lie - that I just wanted someone with a pretty smile."

My heart warmed towards his likable personality. Even after researching and watching several interviews with Jesse I was still uncertain as to how he would act and behave when a camera wasn't thrust in front of his face. But he was exactly the same; he didn't put on an act whatsoever. And for that reason alone I felt like all of this was going to be fun. 

"Have you spoken to Mr. Powell recently? Like he just messaged me the details for today but that's the first I heard from him since signing the contract." I nodded towards the waitress as she placed two glasses of iced water in front of us both, uttering a 'thank you' before taking a small sip.

"Yeah, pretty much every day," He fumbled with the edges of the menu, "But he manages me in a lot of other area's other than football as well. Just like he manages Dele and a few of the other boys."

"So how regular do we have to meet? Once every week or once every fortnight?" I asked, unsure as to how many times we had to see each other. I was aware that the premier league was about to start so I was pretty sure we wouldn't be meeting all the time; a few times a month at most. Even though Emma had already fully started her 'job' I knew that I couldn't really expect the same due to Dele and Jesse both being very different people who lead very different lives. 

Jesse shrugged, "Well, you'll have a call later today to discuss whether you'd be up for moving down closer to Manchester, like near the training grounds and whatnot."

"What move? Like by myself?" My eyes widened, and although I had briefly discussed this with Mr. Powell I didn't realise it would be so soon into the contract, "I mean that'd be fine but I didn't think it would be so soon."

He muttered an incoherent sentence before drawing his attention to the menu yet again, "He'll set you up in a well nice place, a food shop every week. Trust me, it'd be near the city but not too near. I've seen the places he's loaned out before and they're good. You can always bring family and friends up."

"I mean I guess, but so soon? I thought it would be at least a month or so into the contract, not like the same week," I massaged my temples, trying to take in the fact that I was going to be moving away from my hometown - somewhere I had rarely ventured out of - and be thrown into life in a bustling city, "What about my home and everything here? I thought I'd be given time to sort out my rent and everything for the house I have here-"

"Powell will pay the rent for your home here and for the place you'l move into in Manchester. Look, just phone him and explain your situation. I don't mind travelling to see you but the camera's and whatnot won't really capture anything down here. Nothing we could offer to the newspapers and websites."

I sighed, frustrated that I understood exactly where he was coming from. If I was to make this contract worth it I wanted to make sure that everything was as good as it could possibly be. Even if it meant being torn away from my home life and swapping it for a life I had always read about in magazines and watched on reality television shows.