Breaking the Playbook [COMPLETED]

Chapter 13

LOLO'S POV

The atmosphere in the office is suffocating, the air thick with stress and unspoken tension. The media frenzy has reached a fever pitch, and every corner of my professional world is under scrutiny. My desk, usually a sanctuary of order and calm, is now cluttered with papers, phone calls, and the relentless buzz of notifications. It feels like every second is a countdown to some impending disaster.

I stare at the screen in front of me, the headlines blaring with sensationalist accusations and invasive speculations about my personal life. It's a fucking nightmare. "COACHES' DAUGHTER DATING A PLAYER?!" the headlines scream, and it's not just the media—it's the NFL itself, putting pressure on my father and, by extension, on me.

The door to my office swings open, and my father strides in, his face a mask of barely contained frustration. "Lolo," he starts, his voice tight, "we need to talk."

I look up, trying to keep my expression neutral despite the turmoil inside. "What's wrong?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

His eyes narrow, and he paces back and forth, his anger palpable. "The league is breathing down my neck. They're making noise about your relationship with Brooks, and it's becoming a problem. They're threatening fines and sanctions—goddamn headaches I don't need right now."

I swallow hard, trying to manage the rising panic. "I know. I'm sorry. I never intended for any of this to spiral out of control."

My father's face softens slightly, but the frustration remains. "I get that, Lolo. But the rules are the rules. You know the NFL's stance on these things. It's not just about you or me. It's about the entire organization. They're using this as a way to question my authority and the integrity of the team."

"I understand," I say, my voice barely more than a whisper. "But what am I supposed to do? Just cut him out of my life."

"Maybe," he snaps, "but it's not just about what you want. It's about the bigger picture. The media's not going to let this go. They're like fucking sharks, and we're the bloody water."

I feel a lump forming in my throat. "So, what do you want me to do?"

He stops pacing and looks directly at me. "I need you to distance yourself from Brooks. This is a matter of professional integrity. We can't afford any more distractions. The league's already questioning our focus, and I don't want them to think this is some sort of joke."

His words cut deep, a harsh reminder of the impossible position I'm in. "You think I don't know that?" I retort, my voice cracking. "I'm caught between my personal life and my professional obligations. I'm trying to manage both, and it feels like no matter what I do, I'm fucking failing."

The tension between us is almost unbearable, a taut wire ready to snap. My father's face softens slightly, but there's still a resolute hardness in his eyes. "I know it's hard, Lolo. But you need to think about the team. Think about what's at stake. This isn't just about us; it's about everything we've worked for."

I nod, feeling a surge of resignation. "Okay. I'll try. But this is not easy. I need you to understand that."

He gives a curt nod, his expression a mix of sympathy and determination. "Just keep your head down and focus on your work. We'll get through this."

As he leaves, the weight of his words lingers like a heavy fog. I'm left alone, the room feeling smaller and more confining with every passing second. I lean back in my chair, staring blankly at the mess on my desk. The pressure from the NFL and the media is relentless, and the personal cost of it all is starting to feel unbearable.

BROOKS' POV

The world outside feels like a hurricane of flashing cameras and invasive questions. My every move is being tracked, scrutinized under the relentless eye of the media. The headlines, the gossip—it's everywhere, and it's suffocating. I'm used to the attention that comes with being a professional athlete, but this is something entirely different.

I sit in my apartment, the silence around me a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The phone buzzes incessantly, each notification a reminder of the storm I'm caught in. It's a goddamn circus, and I'm at the center of it. The league's pressure, the media's scrutiny—it's overwhelming.

I pick up the phone and scroll through the latest headlines. The stories are all about me and Lolo, about our supposed relationship and the scandal it's causing. The invasion into our personal lives feels like a betrayal, a violation of something deeply private.

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. I open it to find my agent standing there, a grim expression on his face. "Brooks," he says, stepping inside, "we need to talk."

I nod, gesturing for him to sit. "Yeah, let's get this over with. What's the latest?"

He takes a seat, his gaze serious. "The league's breathing down our necks. They're not happy with the distraction you and Lolo have become. There's talk of potential fines and even suspension if this keeps up."

My fists clench at my sides, my frustration bubbling over. "This is bullshit. We're not doing anything wrong. We're just trying to have a relationship, and now it's turning into a fucking circus."

"I know," he says, his voice calm but firm. "But the league doesn't see it that way. They're worried about the image, the perception. They're using this as an excuse to question your commitment and professionalism."

"Commitment?" I snap. "I'm committed to the team. I'm committed to my career. But they're making it impossible to focus on anything but this damn media shitstorm."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I get it. But we need to navigate this carefully. Lolo's father is under a lot of pressure, and that's making everything worse. The best thing you can do right now is to lay low, keep your head down, and try to avoid giving the media any more fuel."

I nod, feeling a sense of resignation wash over me. "Okay. I'll do what I can. But it's hard to just sit back and watch this happen."

"I know," he says, standing up. "But we need to be smart about this. We need to protect your career and your relationship. Right now, that means dealing with the media fallout and keeping things as low-profile as possible."

As he leaves, I feel a sense of hopelessness. The media's attention is relentless, and the pressure from the league is suffocating. I'm caught in a web of expectations and scrutiny, and every move I make feels like it's being watched and judged.

I sit in silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. The future feels uncertain, and the pressure to conform and play by the rules is overwhelming. But beneath it all, there's a spark of defiance, a determination to fight for what I want, even if it means facing an uphill battle.

I think about Lolo, about the connection we share and the challenges we're facing. It's a struggle, a fight against forces that seem beyond our control. But as I sit here, the thought of giving up is not an option. We've come too far, and I'm not ready to let go.

The media storm may be fierce, and the pressure from the league may be intense, but I'm ready to face it head-on. Lolo, for our future, I'm willing to fight through the chaos and uncertainty. Because in the end, it's not just about the headlines or the scrutiny—it's about what we have together and the strength we find in each other.