control - Alexia Putellas

16.

audio should now be available, hopefully for everyone! i'm super excited about this! now enjoy reading, or listening ☕️✍🏼

After therapy was finished, and after the blonde had finally gotten her first cup of freshly brewed coffee of the day - thanks to a certain midfielder - Erin's day was getting better and better.

Though little did she know.

She had managed to work herself through her packed schedule in record time, yet with the best quality as always - for that was the standard she had set for herself - and made up for the lost time from the morning.

Pulling her hair up in a ponytail after throwing the white Polo shirt - ironed to perfection, for she wouldn't risk wearing a crumpled shirt on the team photo - over her head, the therapist just examined herself in the mirror, when a knock sounded from the door.

"Come in", she speaks, eyes fixed on herself as she buttons up her shirt, deciding it might look better with the top button open.

"Hola hermana!", Martha exclaims as she strides into the room, the black-haired dressed in the same white polo shirt as she hops onto the therapy bench, legs dangling from the edge, "Thought I'd come pick my favorite colleague up so we'll be on time"

"Looks who's talking, Martha", the blonde replies dryly, and pivots on her toes once she's satisfied with the way she looks, examining the black-haired on her therapy bench, whose uniform was far from ironed.

"You don't really want to be on the team photo looking... like that, do you?", the blonde wonders critically, brow furrowed as she gestures to the crumpled material of Martha's shirt, while tucking her own into her pants.

Looking down on herself, lips pursed, the black-haired bursts out laughing.

"You're kidding, right? Don't worry, Er...", Martha chuckles, sliding off the therapy bench as she reaches for Erin's slender wrist, dragging her out the door as she says in her higher pitched voice, "I did that on purpose, you know? We wouldn't want a certain brunette to choose me over you. Even though it's obvious I have other values"

Martha just winks, while the blonde couldn't help but laugh along.

What values?

"Whatever you say, Martha", Erin replies dryly, following her colleague down the hall and towards the pitch, where the photographers and media people had already prepared everything for the shoot.

Everyone was rushing around, trying to set up the lights, so the result would look absolutely perfect, the chief photographer was bossing his assistants around, while the athletes were slowly but surely gathering.

And amid the chaos, there she was.

Alexia Putellas.

The two time Ballon D'Or winner appeared far more stressed than this morning when she surprised Erin with that delicious cup of freshly brewed coffee, the midfielder standing there with her hands behind her back, patiently answering the what felt like hundredth question this reporter was asking her.

And she was tired of it.

So tired of it.

Alexia was tired of answering all those questions. She was tired of faking that stupid smile while she's asked the same questions over and over again.

Because even though this - football - was her passion, and meant everything to her, those kind of appointments always made her feel uncomfortable.

She felt how tense her body became each time she saw a camera. Each time she saw a reporter. Each time a bunch of fans surrounded her, asking for pictures, autographs or whatever.