Between the Lines

Really in Distress

*Brianna*

The morning after everything had settled, I found myself sitting on my couch, still wrapped in the blanket Alex had draped over me the night before. The events of last night played over and over in my mind—the fear, the relief when I heard his voice on the phone, and the way he had shown up, without hesitation, to get me out of that nightmare. It was strange how safe I felt with him, how in those moments, everything seemed to narrow down to just his presence, his words, his touch.

I had agreed to his deal, and it surprised me how easily those words had left my mouth. When I had whispered "yes," it wasn't just to the idea of him being my plus one at the wedding. It was something more, a quiet admission that I needed him, at least right now, in this unpredictable chaos.

After he left for practice, promising to come back later with takeout, I had tried to shake off the lingering vulnerability by diving into work.

I sat at my kitchen table, staring at the blank document on my laptop. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the scattered papers and notebooks that cluttered the space.

I started typing, the words flowing from my mind as I recounted the events from the club. It was impossible not to feel a sense of unease, a tightness in my chest that had nothing to do with the events of the club anymore and everything to do with how I'd been saved. By Alex, of all people. The man who, less than a week ago, I would have gladly written off as just another arrogant athlete with a pretty face. And now here I was, writing about him not as a tabloid piece but as someone who had stepped in when I needed him most.

Premier League Star Steps in to Defuse Dangerous Situation at Local Club

Late Friday night, at a popular nightclub in downtown London, Burnley's star player, Alex, stepped in to prevent what could have been a serious situation. A young woman, whose identity remains anonymous, was being harassed by a fellow club-goer when Alex intervened. Eyewitnesses describe the scene as tense, with the footballer arriving just in time to protect the woman. While the exact details remain unclear, it's evident that Alex's quick action prevented a possible assault, demonstrating his commitment to safety both on and off the field.

Despite the media storm surrounding the incident, with many questioning Alex's intentions and portraying him as the aggressor, those who witnessed the event describe a different story—one of a sportsman using his influence to shield a vulnerable individual.

I leaned back in my chair, rereading the report. It was factual, devoid of the personal emotions I was struggling to keep in check. There was no mention of how I'd felt in that moment, the sheer terror that had gripped me as I realized the man who had seemed so charming was something else entirely. The relief that had flooded through me when I saw Alex charging through the crowd, fists clenched, ready to protect me.

A ping from my inbox pulled me from my thoughts. Brogan's reply was as expected:

Subject: Re: Draft Report

Brianna,

I appreciate the effort, but this won't work. It's too clean, too... heroic. We need drama, tension—something that will keep people talking. Alex Cooperfield playing the knight in shining armor isn't going to get the clicks we need. We need a story that will sell, not one that will make people feel warm and fuzzy.

Let me know if you can work on another angle.

Brogan

I stared at the screen, my frustration building. Of course, it wasn't enough that Alex had saved me. It had to be spun into something sordid, something that would sell tabloids and fuel gossip columns. I slammed my laptop shut, anger simmering beneath the surface.