I was walking down the streets, looking for a cute cafe where I could sit down and do my work. And as white as I am I end up at the Starbucks, ordering a soy latte, with 1 pump caramel and 2 of chocolate, but without the whipped cream. "Name?"
"Alicia." I answer to the barista.
When my coffee is ready I look for a table where I can sit down with my laptop. I'm a column writer for a magazine, and they're asking me to write something about soccer. As if I know anything about soccer, I mean well I know that the players look hot as fuck after a game in those way to thighs shirts, but that's all.
When I'm done I take my MacBook and leave the Starbucks.
"God dammit can't you just look where you're going Jesus Christ." I say when I bump into some one.
"Tut Mir leid." He answers. I look up, it's a German boy. Blond hair, styled like basically every guy's hair these days, really pretty eyes and a cute face.
Wait, oh my god, that's Marco Reus! Marco is like the only soccer player I know because, well, he's hot.
"Hi I'm James." Well it was to good to be true.
AN
This book is going to be one huge mess of sarcastic realistic football one shots because why not. You can recommend players in the comments, and I promise the stories will get better than this one lol.
