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CHAPTER ONE. ❝ DRAG ME DOWN ! ❞
CAMERAS. Flashlights. People. A wall of chaos.
That was all I could see as they swarmed in, asking question after question, their voices a chaotic blend of excitement and desperation. The flashing lights were blinding, turning the night into a dizzying strobe of brilliance, while the sound of shutters firing off filled the air like distant gunfire. Every face was split in a grin—some fake, others too real, the kind that left a bad taste in my mouth. They pressed closer, cameras shoved in my face, and with every step, the crowd tightened its hold, boxing me in as if I were some prized catch on display. My car, parked just across the street, might as well have been on the other side of the city. Each passing second stretched the distance further.
I had made a mistake—a big one. I shouldn’t have come out. Not tonight, not after the game. Not after the high that victory had unleashed into the world. But here I was, standing outside The Velvet Oven, my favourite bakery in all of London, craving cupcakes. It wasn’t just any night though. I had just secured a massive win against Nottingham, and the rush from that game-winning goal was still thrumming through my veins, battling exhaustion for control. The match had been brutal—Nottingham’s team was no joke. But they’d been messing with a King today.
And the King won.
I should’ve gone straight home. I knew better. I’d barely had a chance to breathe after that final whistle. On top of everything, my body was betraying me in the worst way possible. Period cramps. The bane of every woman’s existence. Pain radiated through me in waves, sharp and unforgiving, making every breath feel like a chore. And yet, in my infinite wisdom, I’d decided to wander the streets of London after the kind of victory that blows up the internet. Stupid. So stupid. Now, I was paying for it.
The noise was deafening—cheers, questions, my name being shouted over and over. The crowd was relentless, pressing in on me, my space shrinking with every second. My body screamed in protest. My stomach clenched, my thighs were on fire, and my back? It felt like someone had shoved a rod through my spine. Still, I forced a smile, though all I really wanted was to curl up in bed and disappear from existence for a while.
I appreciated the support—of course, I did. These people, they meant well. Most of them, anyway. But God, all I could think about was getting to my car and driving far away from this circus. My patience was already wearing thin, and the familiar edge of irritation clawed its way to the surface. It was only a matter of time before the real me—the one I liked to call Lucifer—made an appearance. Everyone should know better than to mess with a girl on her period. Especially not after a match like that.
I wasn’t mad at them, not really. I knew they were excited, probably genuinely happy for me. But that didn’t change the fact that my body felt like it was being torn apart from the inside out, and I just wanted to escape. To get some damn peace.
