𝗟𝗢𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡 | ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ!ʙʟᴜᴇʟᴏᴄᴋ × ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

the start

In the heart of the stadium, under the blazing floodlights, two girls faced off on the football pitch, their eyes locked in a fierce rivalry. The air was charged with tension as the crowd roared in anticipation.

The first girl, a pretty brunette with doe amber eyes, exuded confidence from every pore of her skin, her cocky smirk never leaving her lips as she dribbled the ball with finesse.

"Are you excited to lose, [name]?" she taunted, her voice dripping with arrogance. She believed she had the upper hand; her stature made her feel invincible against her shorter opponent. That's why everyone thought so badly of [name], she looked way too weak to be thought worthy of winning Europe's women tournament. Well, the u20 women tournament, but that didn't make it winning it a lesser achievement. Not when [name] was representing Spain out of all countries.

The shorter woman, undeterred by Céline's audacity, squared her shoulders, determination blazing in her eyes. "Keep dreaming," she shot back, her tone sharp with bitterness and defiant with anger. "I'll show you what real skill looks like."

As the referee blew the whistle, signaling the start of the last minute, the two girls launched into action, their movements swift and precise. Céline weaved through defenders effortlessly, each touch of the ball fueling her ego only further.

But [name] was relentless, her defensive prowess unmatched as she intercepted Céline's passes with precision. "Is that all you've got?", she mocked, her voice cutting through the air like a knife through the 'boo!'s and cheers that shouted from every corner of the stadoum.

With each exchange, the tension on the field mounted, the crowd hanging on to every play. The brunette's cocky facade began to crack as [name]'s skillful maneuvers pushed her to the limit.

In a final showdown, with seconds ticking away on the clock, [name] stole the ball from her rival's grasp, sprinting toward the goal with lightning speed.

"NO ME LO PUEDO CREER, QUE ALGUIEN ME DIGA SI ESTOY SOÑANDO. ¡¿[NAME] ACABA DE DEJAR ATRÁS A CÉLINE?! ESTÁ CERCA DEL GOL, ESTÁ DEMASIADO CERCA DEL GOL—"

With a powerful kick, she sent the ball soaring past the goalkeeper, sealing her team's victory.

As the final whistle blew, [name] stood triumphant, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. "Looks like the only thing shattered here is your ego, Céline," she quipped, her words a stinging rebuke to her cocky opponent. The mocking sound of her cheerful voice felt like stabbing knifes on the brunette's ears, her eyes flooding with disgusting flabbergastment and a toxic pool of red anger swirling on her eyes.

She just lost.

"¡¡GOOOOOOOOL!! ¡¡GOLAZOOOOO DE [NAME]!! [NAME] SE DECLARA LA GANADORA DEL PARTIDO!!"

As the audience roared in delight, there stood the proud [name], raising a fist. No one thought she would make it, but now she showed everyone her worth. She smirked, knowing the amount of lost bets today.

'That's what you guys get for not believing in me.'

"[NAME]! [NAME]! [NAME]!" The crowd chanted, "[NAME]! [NAME]!, [NAME]!"