from hollywood hills to stamford bridge, sheva demsky lands herself an acting job in london, embodying an english women's football star in a movie directed by wilma woodward. she must watch, learn about and study the game, but also the dynamics off...
a/n: this chapter is brought to you by bad idea right? by olivia rodrigo 💜 this chapter will be a little bit more angsty and spicy towards the end (18+). if that's something you don't enjoy definitely feel free to skip!!! you can take it or leave it. it will not impact your reading experience in the long run. let me know if you want less or more of that kind of thing, just trying it out.
sporting a pink bathrobe and pamela anderson inspired updo, margaret had margarita's on the brain come friday. she was not backing down without drunken a girls night between the three starlets.
she was putting the pressure on sheva, who didn't feel like going out that friday night, for obvious reasons, "I refuse to believe you're choosing to spend your night in bed watching the hills"
"FEEL THE RAIN ON YOUR SKIN, NO ONE ELSE CAN FEEL IT FOR YOU, ONLY YOU CAN LET IT IN," sheva sang into her hand imitating a microphone and was refusing to directly address margaret. she knew that if she engaged, margaret would somehow get her to agree to go out with the two of them.
"you're depressed and it's sad." sophia dryly added in a rare contribution while sheva just scoffed.
"this is peak happiness. besides it's shabbos," now sheva knew damn well she wasn't shomer shabbos, but pulling any given jewish holiday out of the air worked in her favour... most of the time.
"since we've been in here you have switched on the lights, took a business call, offered to drive us into the city, bought a new chanel purse online and I'd like to think you'll be wiping your ass at some point but I don't see any pre-teared toilet tissue in the bathroom."
"sophia... when did you become a rabbi?" margaret's eyes lit up at tierney exhausting sheva's excuses.
"we were out a mere two days ago, I'm literally still hungover right now."
"you were raised in paris hilton's hollywood. don't think we don't remember the tabloids, and you, out, every night on sunset blvd. these excuses aren't excusing right now." margaret's persistent aussie monologue was a permanent reminder of the girl sheva was trying to get out of her head, and in a desperate bid to shut her up or at least drown her out with some loud music, sheva groaned and agreed.
"fine!"
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sam's pov training is intense on a normal week. it becomes unbearable when you throw three beginners in the mix. I was looking forward to spending time with caitlin and mackenzie who wanted to meet up after spending the week with their respective london teams. their clubs, quite frankly, appeared to be having a much more normal time than that of mine. we opted for a quiet spot in the city to get some drinks and talk about life after the international break.
in a cubby at the corner, spritzed with neon pink lighting, I quickly caught them up on the americanised sorority that had now formed at cobham, spilling as much as my contract would allow me to.
