𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎... // 𝙵𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝚃𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚜

8

~ Author's Note ~

I have shown my friend, who knows nearly nothing about football and has no interest in it, some pictures of football players, and asked her to rate them between 1-10. I'm still making her rate them over text, but here's some that she's said.

They get really annoying as you go down, by the way.

Kylian Mbappe = 4/10

Olivier Giroud = 2/10 without the beard

Antoine Griezmann = -∞/10

Pablo Gavi = 0/10 he looks like he is 3

Pedri Gonzalez = ew he's ugly

Ousmane Dembele = 2/10

Raphinha = 1/10 ew he's ugly

AND THEN there's the two most recent ones!! Which completely shock me, based on her ratings for all the others:

Eric Garcia = 6.4/10

And

Ferran Torres = 7/10

So yeah, that's my weird friend for you guys!!! If she had to love one football player, it'd be Ferran!!! 🙄🙄🙄

PHIL AND FERRAN

During the match between Manchester City and Manchester United, I spent about seventy-five percent of the time with my eyes on Ferran Torres. The other twenty-five percent was spent with my eyes on Phil Foden.

After the match, which was a big win for City, I knew exactly where to go. I still remembered where the guys went after a big match, and it's a very specific sports bar. That is, if they still went to that same place.  I assumed they did.

So I headed out of the stadium, and to that bar. I waited there, knowing it'd be a little longer until they got there. But I wanted to be ready for them for when they arrived. If they, hopefully, did arrive. I was pretty sure they would.

Turns out, I was right in being pretty sure, because about a half hour later, Phil Foden and some other Manchester City guys came in. My eyes searched the group for Ferran, and finally, they fell on him, at the back of the group, talking with some other young-looking guy that I'd seen playing with Manchester before on telly.

Before I could try my hand at talking to Ferran, though, I was suddenly attacked by a huge big bear hug by Phil Foden, and my breath got lodged in my throat. I hugged him back, somehow getting out, "H-Hey! Phil!"

"Hey, Jadrien! How've you been? It's really good to see you." He leaned away from me as his teammates looked at him weird, and instead sat down next to me.

I beheld his handsome face as I said, "Well, I've been great. Doing even better, though, now that I'm here talking with you."

"Hey, no flirting, Jadrien," he rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "I would have thought you'd've gotten over me by now. You know I have Rebecca!"

I shrugged, kind of embarrassed. "Sorry..."

"It's fine," he rolled his eyes again, leaning back on the table. "I guess I just understand you're just as stupid with love as you've always been, huh? No character development there, I see."

"Oh, you, shut up!" I had said, gently slapping his ear. He just laughed at this, saying, "So, where's Eric?"

"Uh, right..." I sighed, feeling a little uncomfortable. Of course he'd want to talk to Eric. That didn't make me feel any less unwanted. "Eric... he isn't here. He, of course, is playing in Barcelona now, and that's where we're living, and I'm just here in Manchester for career purposes. Eric couldn't come. It's still the La Liga season, man."

"Oh, right," he nodded, with a shrug.

Suddenly, a voice asked in front of me, "Wait, Phil, Eric's here?"

I looked up and over to see Ferran Torres. Finally. He was standing there, wearing this outfit, arms crossed, a smile on his face.

"Oh, no, sorry, Ferran," Phil shook his head. "Eric isn't here. But Jadrien, his sister, is! Ferran, you remember Jadrien, right?"

Ferran studied me for a few seconds, and I remember being glad that I was sitting next to Phil, because that could be my excuse, in my head, at least, for blushing madly like I was. Finally, Ferran uncrossed his arms, saying, "Oh yeah... I remember you!" His eyes softened slightly, and it was like an arrow to the heart. My breath literally stopped working for a second there, I'm sure. "Yeah... I remember you," he repeats with a soft smile.

I think that may have been the moment when I realised that I had fallen in love with Ferran Torres.

Ferran sat down on the other side of me, and I am pretty sure that this was my dream-come-true. The two boys that I was completely in love with, both next to me, in a bar, so close to me, the three of us talking. It literally was perfect.

I remember Foden mostly paid attention to me at the beginning. He asked me about modeling, Eric, how my day was, what I thought of the match, if I'd met anyone new in Barcelona, and so on. Ferran was mostly quiet, just letting Phil be in charge of the conversation, and only injecting his own two sense and comments into the conversation whenever he felt it necessary or appropriate.

Finally, though, Phil said he had to go, because he promised his girlfriend he'd be home on time for what he called with a rude laugh sexual intercourse. I told him ew, and to go leave and do that, then, because obviously he was getting excited just at the thought of it, and neither me or Ferran were really interested in hearing about that. So I hugged Phil goodbye, kissed his cheek, and told him I'd be better at staying touch with him. Then I sat back down next to Ferran. At this point, I definitely couldn't say I was sober. Not at all. It's not like I was drunk out of my mind, though, either. I turned to Ferran, who was just about to stand up and walk away, too. I grabbed the back of his sweater, though, and pulled him back down on the chair, laughing, and say, "What do you think you're doing, huh?"

He stared at me a few seconds, before shrugging slightly, a very slight smile also appearing on his face. "I... I don't know. You want me to stay?"

I grinned at him. "Of course I want you to stay, Ferran! I'd love to get to know you more!"