Everybody's Romeo, Nobody's Juliet

Chapter Five: Late Night Stroll

"Toooooooor!"

The whole pub boomed with cheers as Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang sunk the ball against the Stuttgart goalkeeper. It was a home game with Borussia Dortmund equalizing the game now to 2-2. The team were celebrating the goal on the pitch as Pierre hugged Yakub Blaszczykowski who provided the assist. There was still fifteen minutes left until fulltime and everyone in the pub was on the edge of their seats.

"Come on, one more to leave them behind!" yelled one customer, his hand pumping in the air.

"Yeahhh!" agreed another one, raising his beer mug to him. There were sounds of clinking glasses, munching of food, and occasional chatter but all eyes were glued to three wide television screens mounted on the walls of the pub.

Rose walked over to one table and handed them a couple of bottles of beer, her eyes shifting to the television from time to time. The time was now down to seven minutes and it was very nerve-wracking to watch. She almost dropped the tray she was holding when the Stuttgart striker almost netted the ball. It was an inch off and hit the goal post.

"Jesus Christ." She exhaled in relief, her closed fist over her chest, her heart pummeling her ribcage. 'That was close.'

As the Stuttgart striker tried to get the rebound, Mats Hummels slide tackled the ball out of his feet. Erik picked up the loose ball with his left foot and kicked the ball over the midline, landing on Nuri's feet.

'Beautiful pass, Erik!' she thought as she squeezed herself behind the bar.

Nuri darted past a Stuttgart midfielder and spotted Marco racing past the first defender. He timed his pass and lobbed the ball over the last defender, making Marco's run an onside one. Only two minutes left.

Her gripped tightened on the glass she was holding. 'Cmon, c'mon, c'mon!'

Marco poised to strike at the left corner, the goalkeeper jumped to only to realize it was a feint as Marco stepped back and cleared the ball on the right side.

"Yes!" Rose shouted, both hands clenched and high in the air.

The pub erupted in celebration when the whistle sounded signaling fulltime. Everyone was in a great mood and kept ordering drinks. Her boss Mr. Steiner, a burly man in his fifties, had slashed the prices because of the win. Rose and the others spent the next hour and a half serving drinks. It was almost twelve midnight by the time the last customers left and only three of them remain to close shop.

"That was a quite a game, wasn't it?" Mr. Steiner asked.

She nodded. "I'm glad they won."

"Glad they won or glad Marco Reus scored?"

Rose snapped her head to face the young man who asked the question. He was tall, his long blond hair tied up neatly. "What's that supposed to mean, Aren?"

He set the tray down and sat on a bar stool opposite Rose. He crossed his leg and leaned forward. "Kristopher told me all about it."

"Whatever he told you, he's exaggerating."

"So, glad that they won or glad that he scored?"

She shrugged. "Both. Because if he hadn't scored then they wouldn't have won."

"Right. Uh-huh. Sure." Aren replied, giving her a teasing smirk. "Whatever you say." He shielded his face from the dish towel Rose threw at him. She rolled her eyes at him as his grin turned into laughter.

"Aren," Mr Steiner interrupted. "Can you please fix some of the chairs, please?"

"Sure." With one last sneer at Rose, he arranged the chairs.