Bend the rules

Chapter 1

Palma is in a friend's group of 4 girls, Amelia, Eleia, Willa, and herself. They went to the hottest bar in town last night. The music was pumping, the drinks were flowing, and before they knew it, shots were being poured left and right. Suffice it to say, they indulged a little too much, and this morning, the aftermath hit them like a freight train.

The ladies
Group chat

Willa
Hey ladies, who's alive?

Amelia
Too early for me girl

Palma
My hangover is critical.

Eleia
I would like to know what happened with Amelia and the bartender

Palma
ME TOO, spill the...

Amelia
I literally just ran out of his apartment

Willa
Girl you're too crazy for me, but you do you
Remember I love you

Eleia
So did you add one to you bodycount??

Palma
Ofc she did, when have Amelia slept with a guy without doing the d

Amelia
Palms you know me too well hehe

With the pounding headache from last night's adventures, I have devised a brilliant plan to fix the remnants of my hangover: a McDonald's feast delivered right to my doorstep. With a few taps on my phone, my salvation was on its way. I stumbled out of bed and took on my glamorous robe on. My greasy hair and bleary eyes didn't deter me from my mission, to transform my haggard appearance into something worthy of facing the delivery person. Just as I admired my efforts in the bathroom mirror, a sudden knock at the door startled me. The sound of food arriving in my hour of need! I flung the door open ready to embrace the heavenly hangover-curing delight that awaited me. There, standing in front of me, was a guy in a delivery uniform, joined by the scent of crispy fries and burgers wafting through the air, making my stomach growl with joy.

Willa is a massive Chelsea fan and us girls promised her to attend one of their home games together with her. They planned it out for weeks and tonight is the night.

As for me, my football stadium experience was limited to Camp Nou, a place I had been dragged to during a family holiday in Barcelona. However, I knew that attending a match in London was an essential adventure to undertake while living in this vibrant city. With Willa leading the charge, our excitement bubbled over as we made our way to the stadium. The air crackled with anticipation, the energy of thousands of fans storming through the streets singing Chelsea chants. As we stepped into the stadium, a wave of awe washed over me. The atmosphere was electric, a collective roar rising from the stands as if the very stadium itself was alive.

The warm-up began, and the stadium erupted with every fan screaming for joy. The players from both teams burst onto the pitch, showcasing their skills of different sorts of shooting, and passing drills. Our seats were strategically positioned in row 3, at one of the ends, placing us close to the heart-pounding action. We were so close that we could practically taste the sweat dripping off the players.

Willa, overflowing with excitement, was utterly captivated as she watched the players weave their magic, executing flawless passes and launching thunderous shots. As for me, I was slightly less engaged in a lighthearted moment together with Amelia. Little did I know, my distraction would have unexpected consequences. In the midst of Amelia and I's laughter, a thunderous shot found its mark—my face. The impact was immediate, and my nose started gushing blood.

Let's be honest, that moment was downright painful. However, the girls quickly sprang into action, procuring tissues from the kind strangers around us. Then something surprising happened. The player who had unintentionally nailed me with that shot rushed over, urging the security guards to bring me down to the pitch. He wanted to personally apologize and make amends. I was surrounded by towering security guards, all on the order of the player who had inadvertently turned my face into a bullseye. It was an extraordinary scene, and I couldn't help but feel a mix of pain, gratitude, and awe.

"Hey, I'm Mason, I wanted the opportunity to apologize to you personally, it is important to me that you know how genuinely sorry I am for what happened. I hope your nose is healing well, and please know that it was never my intention to disrupt your enjoyment or cause you any harm."

"Thank you, but you really don't have to be sorry, of course, you didn't mean to hit me, and I completely understand," I said smiling.

"I'll take you to the medicals quickly if you don't mind. Just to make sure you're alright."

"You really don't have to do this, you should be doing warmups. But I could use some more tissue soon."

"I messed up, so, of course, I'll take care of it before anything." He said smiling and putting his hand on my back to lead me to the medicals.

While walking he started a conversation

"So, is this your first game, or are you often out watching the games?"

"My first one, my friend is a huge Chelsea fan so me and my friends joined her today."

"Well, I'm sorry this is your first experience at a game, the second time can only turn out better."

As we arrived at the medical area, the doctors promptly attended to my injured nose. They assured me that I should stay relaxed and calm, for the next few days, and if nothing got better I should contact my own doctor. After speaking with the doctors in the medical area, Mason insisted that I remain on the pitch, seated by the bench. His concern was to ensure my safety and prevent any further mishaps.

With a warm smile and a heartfelt apology, Mason embraced me tightly before dashing back onto the pitch to resume his interrupted warm-up. I settled down near the bench, observing the game unfold from a different perspective. While my nose throbbed with every beat of my heart, I couldn't help but be captivated by the genuine care he had shown and the lengths he went to ensure my well-being.