❝ everyone wants him, that was my crime.
the wrong place, at the right time
and i break down and he's pulling me in
in a world of boys, he's a gentleman ❞
fate [verb]; be to happen, turn out, or act in a particular way
malia's best friend, oscar pia...
Driving down Lakeside Drive, my usual running track at Albert Park looks completely unrecognisable, with it being transformed into the Grand Prix circuit for next week's race. The sunset was beaming down on my car, but I didn't mind one bit. This drive to the MCG was always gorgeous at this time of year, the first week back of AFL, golden hour still hitting at the right times of the day, and the GP around the corner where I'll see my best friend again after a few months of absence.
I pull into the car park and flash my pass to the worker to let me through, parking in the Carlton team space underneath the stadium. I walk through to the rooms, where the rest of the boys are warming up, some of them greeting me with a sweaty hug and kiss on the cheek. I stay standing to the side scrolling through my phone, swiping in my camera roll and favouriting recent photos to post later on. Suddenly, I'm jabbed at my sides, someone tickling me.
"Did I scare you?" Sam, my brother, says through his giggling.
"Yes you idiot," I say, before bringing him into a hug.
Sam Hughes is a 2018 No.1 draft pick AFL player for the Carlton Football Club, a top-rated midfielder, with the potential to be the next Brownlow medallist. Otherwise known as my older, protective brother Sammy, who's just 2 years older than me but has become an almost father figure to me. My in-built best friend, a brother has gone way beyond his role in my life and I am in constant debt to him.
"I've missed you sissy," he teases, knowing I've missed him so much while he's been in rehabilitation after his back surgery.
"Stop injuring yourself and I'll forgive you for being away for so long!" I pull away from the hug and notice a small sadness in his eyes, and I can understand he feels so upset to not be playing at the moment.
After we said hi to everyone, we headed over to the corporate box that the club reserved for us both. Tonight they were versus their rivals, Richmond, who have been a rivalry to watch for the last few decades and is usually the first match of Round 1 of the season.
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"NO FUCKING WAY!" Sam jumps up, and I grab his arm after I reciprocate his action, the game was a goal difference and we were both freaking out.
The siren goes, and the MCG roars, Sam and I still jumping crazily after the final moments being so stressful. We rush down to the rooms once the theme song finishes playing, excited to see everyone after the close win.
Sam has his arm around my shoulders, squeezing my arm every so often to try and get his energy out of the game's adrenaline. This arm was soon flung to the side as Charlie, one of his best friends, gave me a huge hug, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around. I squeal as he does so, genuinely happy for the boys' win and silently wishing Sam was well enough to be out on the ground experiencing it with them all.
"6. GAMES. IN. A. ROW. WITH. A. GOAL. SCORE. DIFFERENCE!" I scream, grabbing his face and shaking it as I say it.
He laughs and shakes my head back, "OUR BIGGEST FAN AND STAT WOMAN!"
All the players give Sam a hug with a careful pat on the back, him saying 'I'm not made of glass' after they all do it, but they're careful anyway. Sam gets pulled over by the media manager to have some chats with journalists, and then talks to other players.
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