Breaking the Playbook [COMPLETED]

Chapter 25

Lolo's POV

The day had started like any other. I was at my desk, juggling emails and meeting requests while trying to drown out the persistent thrum of anxiety that had become my new normal. The NFL season was in full swing, and the pressure to balance my personal life with my professional responsibilities was mounting. But that morning, everything shifted dramatically.

It began with a text from one of my colleagues, a link to a news article that made my heart sink. The headline was a punch to the gut: "NFL Star Brooks Collins and Coach's Daughter: Scandal Unveiled!" I clicked the link, my fingers trembling as I scanned the article. The words seemed to blur together, but the gist was clear—a major news outlet had uncovered and sensationalized our relationship. Photos of Brooks and me, taken in moments of intimacy, were plastered across the page.

Panic surged through me as I read the article. It described our secret meetings, hinted at a possible breach of team protocols, and suggested that our relationship was causing division within the team. My breath came in shallow gasps as I processed the gravity of the situation. This wasn't just about our personal lives anymore; this was a full-blown scandal with potentially devastating consequences.

I tried to call Brooks, but my hands were shaking too badly to dial. The office around me became a blur as I tried to focus on how to handle the fallout. My father was out of town for the week, but I knew his reaction would be explosive when he found out. The walls of my office seemed to close in, and I needed to get out, to find Brooks and deal with this mess together.

I rushed out of the office, my heart racing as I made my way to the parking lot. The crisp air hit me as I stepped outside, but it did little to calm my nerves. I spotted my car and fumbled with my keys, trying to keep my composure. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts—what if the team's management decided to take action? What if this destroyed Brooks' career?

The drive to the stadium felt like an eternity. My thoughts were consumed by the implications of the scandal. What if my father decided to enforce the rule against dating players more strictly? What if Brooks and I were forced to end things? The uncertainty gnawed at me, and by the time I reached the stadium, I was barely holding it together.

When I arrived, the scene was chaotic. Reporters and photographers crowded around the entrance, their cameras flashing incessantly. I had to push my way through the crowd, trying to keep my head down and avoid making eye contact. My heart pounded in my chest as I finally made it inside.

The locker room was eerily quiet. The players were scattered, their faces etched with concern and curiosity. I spotted Brooks near his locker, looking disheveled and worn out. He seemed lost in thought, staring at the floor as he absentmindedly fiddled with his equipment. I walked over, my steps heavy with dread.

"Brooks," I said, my voice strained. He looked up, his eyes meeting mine with a mixture of shock and worry.

"Lolo," he replied, his voice rough. "I saw the news. Fucking hell. This is a mess."

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah, it is. We need to figure out what to do. My dad's going to go ballistic when he finds out. And if the team decides to take action... "

"I know," Brooks interrupted, running a hand through his hair. "I've been trying to stay calm, but it's hard. This is fucking everywhere. I can't even focus on practice."

We spent the next few hours huddled together in a corner of the locker room, brainstorming damage control strategies and trying to come up with a unified front. The pressure was intense, and the weight of the situation hung heavily between us. We knew that the public's perception and our careers were on the line.

When we finally emerged from the locker room, we faced the media together, putting on a brave face as we answered their questions. The cameras flashed, the questions were intrusive, and the scrutiny was unbearable. But we had to maintain our composure, both for the sake of our relationship and our professional futures.

BROOKS' POV

The day had been a blur of frustration and anxiety. My performance on the field had suffered, and now this scandal threatens to ruin everything I have worked for. When the news broke, it felt like a punch to the gut. I was already dealing with the pressure of the game and the mounting expectations, and now this—an invasion of my privacy—threatened my career and my relationship with Lolo.

When I saw the headlines, I was struck dumb. My relationship with Lolo, something that had been a source of solace and joy, was now fodder for a public scandal. The media's relentless pursuit had turned our private moments into a public spectacle. I was furious, confused, and deeply concerned about what this meant for our future.

As I walked through the locker room, trying to process everything, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The other players' glances were a mix of pity and curiosity. I knew they were talking about it, and I could only imagine the rumors circulating. My focus was shattered, and I struggled to get back into the game. Every pass, every play felt like it was being scrutinized under a microscope.

When Lolo showed up, the sight of her only added to my anxiety. She looked as overwhelmed as I felt, and I could see the worry etched into her face. It broke my heart to see her like this, knowing that I was the cause of some of her stress. As we spoke, I could see the strain in her eyes, and it only heightened my sense of urgency.

We needed to confront this head-on, and we needed to do it together. Our private discussions were frantic, filled with plans and strategies. We both knew the stakes were high, and the pressure was immense. We had to figure out a way to protect our relationship and our careers while dealing with the fallout from the scandal.

When we faced the media, the ordeal was grueling. The questions were invasive, and the cameras seemed to be everywhere. I could feel the weight of their scrutiny, and I knew that every word we said would be analyzed and twisted. It was an exhausting experience, but we had to keep up appearances.