Shadows of the Pitch- a Virgil Van Dijk Fan fiction

Chapter 8: Destruction.

We got out of the car, and the looming training centre towered in front of me. The cold air was bitter, blustering my hair over parts of my eyes as I stayed fixated out of fear. Virgil squeezed my hand in small bursts.

'You gonna be okay?' He asked, looking towards me. My eyes didn't move off the massive building.

I gulped.

'Sure, yeah.' I replied, my breathing shallow. He started to take steps foreword, but my feet didn't want to move. I knew if I walked in there, I wouldn't be normal anymore, I'd be a football wife, a WAG. And I really didn't know how to feel about it.

Feeling my phone ring for the second time in my coat pocket, I took a deep breath and rushed next to Virgil as we walked through the glass doors.

The training centre was as I expected, most of the decorations were a dark red, the crest was practically everywhere, plaques of trophy's won by the club neatly hung on a feature wall just next to the reception desk.

Virgil stood speaking to the receptionist politely, though I didn't really listen to what they were saying. My eyes darted in multiple directions, taking in all of my scenery, when I got snapped out of my daze by a warm hand on my shoulder.

'Here's your visitor pass, Connie.' Virgil smiled. He moved my hair to put the lanyard over my head gently, I uncontrollably grinned. The receptionist signalled where I should go with her hand, down the hallway, away from Virgil.

'I'll come get you soon, I've got a physio appointment.' Virgil kissed my forehead before walking away before I could say anything.

I stood there for a moment, staring at my Liverpool FC visitors pass, running my nails across the laminated plastic. This was not my world, my life. I felt like a complete imposter.

'Miss, would you like a coffee?' The receptionist suggested, standing up from her chair. She had a thick scouse accent. Her uniform was a dark red contoured suit jacket, and skirt, with a white blouse. It looked beautiful.
I spun round and felt flustered.
'Oh, sure. If it's not too much trouble.' I muttered, visibly nervous.

'It must be scary for you,' The lady gestured, guiding me down the hallway, walking at my pace. Hearing the clicks of her heels on the marble floor, I suddenly felt as if I was underdressed. 'I felt the same when I first started here.'

'You did?' I asked, curious. Initially, I thought she must be a celebrity herself, how else would she had got a job with a premier league football team?

'Oh, yeah.' She chuckled, as we walked side by side. 'Before, I was a night receptionist at a Holiday Inn. I thought I was out of my depth here.'

So she was like me.

'Since I started here, everybody has always been so accommodating, kind, and patient. Virgil is a sweet man. I think you're in great hands.' She smiled, warmly. My cheeks grew rosy as I laughed a little.

'You're paid to say that,' I chuckled, causing her to laugh also.

'I'm paid to do paperwork, not fuel the egos of already inflated football players.' She rolled her eyes as she laughed with me. I sat down at a small table in what seemed like a staff room, through the window like wall, I could see the entire team training outside; doing drills, running up and down the grass, tackling eachother, and goal scoring.

The receptionist placed down a red paper cup with a foamy coffee inside in front of me, then one for herself opposite me.

'So, Constance, is it?' She asked, her lush red nails seemed to gleam with the overhead lighting.

'Connie is fine.' I replied, my nose filling with the sweet smell of espresso and her perfume.

'I'm Rebecca, it really is a pleasure to meet someone like me.' She smiled, and immediately my heart felt as if it had calmed down. Fight or flight wasn't running through my head anymore.