control - Alexia Putellas

23.

since i'll most likely be quiet over the weekend, i decided to toss you another update today (at least this way i can keep you in suspense for two days. muahaha) ☕️✍🏼

It took no more than a second for Alexia to put one and one together.

Because his words, "The therapist didn't give the green light", meant nothing other than, "Erin didn't give the green light", to her.

Alexia was shocked.

She was at a loss for words.

But before the two time Ballon D'Or winner had time to panic, before she could locate an escape route that would get her toward the closest restroom, the head coach speaks up again.

"I care about the athletes' health and do not want to risk further injuries. So, together with our therapeutic team, we decided it would be best to start with Alexia on the bench. For the sake of her mental and physical health, as well as her well-being", the head coach answers confidently, folding his hands on top of the table when he looks at the reporter, who quickly scribbles the information into his note book, satisfied with the response.

The midfielder on the other hand, wasn't satisfied with those words at all, for she was there when Erin shared the information about the 'green light'.

So she did lie to her, no?

But before Alexia had the time to think about this, a younger, red haired lady, awkward looking glasses perched on top of her nose, stands up, raising the microphone handed to her as she asks, "Ms. Putellas, what do you think about the coach's decision?"

The question was a stab in the heart of the two time Balkon D'Or winner, and the answer almost rolled off Alexia's lips.

Almost.

Because just as the athlete's lips part in order to answer, she felt Jorge's demanding, warning look from her right, with the request, no, the command, to keep this professional.

And that was what was required of her. That was what was required of the perfect Alexia. That's what she was trained to do. For years. This was exactly the situation in which she had to sit back. In which she had to take a deep breath, sip from her glass of water, calm her nerves, and sort out her thoughts.

So she would not lose control.

And it took a couple of seconds for Alexia to reply.

Jorge was not once averting his warning gaze from the athlete, sullenly raising an eyebrow, then smirks when he heard Alexia's response.

"We decided this together", was the lie, which was probably the biggest challenge of the day for Alexia.

She hated lying.

But that was the answer she had to give. The answer that Jorge had demanded from her the moment he answered his question with nothing but a lie.

It was a relief once the press conference finally ended, and Alexia couldn't wait to get out of this, process everything, or somehow distract herself.

And then she remembered.

Because the person with whom she had allowed herself to feel comfortable, with whom she had allowed herself to relinquish control, had lied to her.

Erin had lied to her.

The therapist was just as much of a liar as Jorge was. Just as false as everything that had been going on behind the scenes of Spain's oh so perfect team.

Without another word, Alexia rises from her chair, hurries towards the door, but freezes as a slender blonde figure blocks her path to the locker room, a look of concern on the therapists face.