The Final Touch | Trent Alexander-Arnold

2

The morning came faster than Nia anticipated. She barely slept, her mind racing with thoughts of the match and the opportunity in front of her. By the time she finally got up, her nerves were knotted tightly in her chest. Arsenal versus Everton—it was huge. This wasn't just another lower-league game where she could slip by unnoticed. This was Premier League, and every word she wrote, every question she asked, would be scrutinized.

She took her time getting ready, carefully choosing an outfit that struck the balance between professional and practical. Something that made her look like she belonged, but didn't stand out too much. Even as she tied her hair back, she reminded herself to stay focused. No distractions, no doubts. This was her shot.

When she arrived at the Emirates Stadium, the sheer size of it made her stomach flip. She'd been to big stadiums before, but always as a fan in the stands, never with a press pass that gave her access to the inner workings of it all. The moment she walked through the doors, the air felt different—charged with the buzz of pre-match excitement. Journalists, photographers, and TV crews milled around, each absorbed in their own preparations.

Nia showed her credentials to the staff at the media entrance and was directed to the press box. It was a surreal experience, sitting among seasoned journalists she'd admired for years. She spotted a few familiar faces, but no one seemed to pay her much attention. In a way, that was a relief. It gave her the space to breathe and focus without feeling like she had to prove herself to them just yet.

As kickoff approached, Nia opened her notepad, ready to take down every key moment. The game was intense right from the start, and despite her nerves, Nia slipped into the familiar rhythm of match reporting. She analyzed the play with precision, her fingers flying across her notepad as she tracked each tactical shift, each substitution, each crucial moment. The crowd roared with every near-miss and goal attempt, and Nia felt the excitement ripple through her as well. This was why she loved football—these moments of pure, raw emotion that could change in an instant.

By halftime, Arsenal was up 1-0, and Nia felt like she was holding her own. She had her notes, key stats, and sharp observations that she knew would make for a strong report. But the real test would come after the match—the post-game interviews with the managers. She'd been in plenty of press scrums before, but Premier League managers were a whole different beast. Their answers were often guarded, calculated, and brief. She would need to ask smart, pointed questions to stand out.

As the second half played out, Everton equalized, and the tension in the stadium ramped up. Nia could feel it too—this was one of those matches that would be debated in the post-match analysis for days. Every tackle, every pass, felt crucial.

When the final whistle blew, the game ended in a 1-1 draw. It wasn't the result Arsenal wanted, and Nia knew the questions for Mikel Arteta, Arsenal's manager, would be tough. Everton's manager, meanwhile, would be fielding questions about whether they could have snatched a win.

Nia hurried down to the media zone, where the other journalists were already gathering. She spotted Harry nearby, his camera ready as always. "You good?" he asked with a quick thumbs-up.

"I'm ready," Nia said, more to herself than to him.

The press room was packed, and Nia found herself wedged between a couple of other reporters, all eager to get their questions in. When Arteta walked in, the room hushed, and the barrage of questions started immediately. Nia waited for her moment, listening to the tone of the conversation, making sure she didn't repeat a question.

Finally, she raised her hand. Arteta glanced at her, and the moderator nodded her way. "Nia Wilson, with Northshire News," she said, introducing herself. "You had a solid first half but struggled to maintain that momentum in the second. What do you think changed tactically after Everton equalized?"