I'M YOURS, lewis hamilton

03

Arsenal had been having a shit month, well, October as a whole had been shit. A bunch of draws, even more losses. It was torturous.

Loss felt bad no matter what, but she wasn't used to it.

What sucked even more was the comments building up, whispers going through the football fans and just players in general. The tunnels were always filled with glances and whispers, snide smiles and comments thrown her way.

She tried to ignore them, but when she didn't deliver anything it didn't help.

She was pulled out of games earlier than she was used to, earlier than necessary. Her starts were more often on the bench, watching them lose from the sidelines until she was maybe put out. Maybe that was. It didn't always happen at all.

The funny part was that most of the losses were when she was on the bench, the draws were when she was actually out on the field, doing her best to score for them—which she often did.

Mirabella didn't get much credit for it though. From the teammates who respected and liked her, she got the credits. But everyone else didn't care much. A team effort they called it, which it was to be fair. She couldn't have scored without the assistance of her teammates, but she also knew if it were anyone else they would have gotten credits.

The whole situation was annoying and it made her mad. She hadn't been in men's football for that long, well, actually she had soon been in men's football for over a year. Time has gone by fast. Something she was already getting used to was managing to block the hateful messages and yells from the stands. Somewhat at least. It was... difficult though. Football fans had some interesting chants.

It was almost impossible not to think about it. No matter how much she uses her time on other things: drawing, working out, running. It was what she was doing now, trying to better her record of how fast she could run while concentrating on her breathing. Trying to control it so that she could run for longer stints at a time.

Earplugs were in her ears, special edition ones actually—Mataraci Edition, from a sponsorship she did last year. Her hype—or confidence—list was blasting through them, successfully blocking out the sounds of the rest of the team working out and their chatter. She really liked them since they were quite literally perfect for running. Others just fell out quickly and she didn't like headsets. They were just heavy and also doing strength exercises, where she had to lie down, was not fun since they just ended up sliding off.

These ones that were literally hers—her little logo on them and everything—were made for working out in every genre. They were the perfect size for the majority of people—based on statistics—and the silicone part could also be switched out with others that fit more to each person. Then the part she was fond of was the small circle that fit pretty perfectly on the outside of the entrance of the ear channel. It sat comfortably and in place through all activity.

It was technically made for her though, so obviously they weren't for everybody. Though the 'bag of money' she got from the sponsorship said that they were selling, so some definitely liked them.

Her concentration was broken as a hand waved in front of her face, well, it was in front of the treadmill but whatever. Her eyes blinked quickly and her hands found the handles, pushing herself up from the belt—which was still running at the speed she had it set at, which was a lot—and let herself down again when her feet landed on the sides.

Her pinky went into the hole of the circle, pulling one of the earplugs out—that way being one she found efficient—and she looked over at Aaron, "What?"

"We're done," the goalkeeper informed her. He patted the treadmill twice, "Come on. Coach wants to see us in the locker room before we go."

She quickly pressed the stop button and grabbed her water bottle, her phone and the earplug box before letting the belt roll her off until her feet landed on the ground. She put her earplugs back into their slots on the small box, letting it close with a magnetic click. She couldn't help but ask as they walked, heading over to the locker room like everyone else was too, "Think it's about...?"