Mundane [a Gerard Piqué fanfiction]

One.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Despite the music that streamed through her headphones, the only sound that Ariel could hear was the thud of her feet on the ground as she ran. To her it was melodic; a continuous beat that helped her concentrate on her breathing, and push everything else out of her mind.

Running, once a pastime that she had enjoyed for years had now become a necessity; ever since her father's terminal diagnosis that had shaken her world to its very core. Ever since she had started to put her dreams and aspirations on standby to be beside him, waiting together until the day came that his condition would deteriorate dramatically and there would be no going back. Doing three laps along the beach was the one constant Ariel still had, and she held on to it with everything.

As she passed by the port for the third and final time, Ariel thought about how sunset was her favourite time to run; she liked how peaceful her hometown of Mataró was as the sun was going down and the sky was a beautiful pinkish red.

The area was starting to get animated as people descended on the seaside restaurants for drinks and dinner and she thought about her father and what to make them for dinner. Ariel looked down at her watch: 21:04, she was getting hungry. Almost unconsciously she quickened her pace, rounding the street that led past the football stadium.

The Martell's had owned that stadium ever since she could remember. It was to them what the father-son plumbing business was to a normal family; being passed down from generation to generation.

Ariel was an only child, so she knew what was coming as soon as her father was gone; she would have to take over the club. She certainly didn't want to, but Ariel knew that she had no choice; if she didn't, all 25 players would be left out in the cold with no clubs that wanted them and no studies to help them do anything else.

CF Mataró had once been a successful professional team, even making it into the Segunda División under the management of Ariel's grandfather. But over the years, mainly due to financial issues, the club had gotten weaker and weaker until all that was left was the youth team.

But over the last year Ariel had become her father's assistant manager, and the team had surged, so much so that largely thanks to her coaching contribution, the following season they would be playing in the División de Honor Junvenil, which was almost unheard of for such a small club.

It seemed that for reasons that even she couldn't explain, Ariel had a natural talent for team management and tactics; for her it was easy, logical. Like a life size game of chess. She could read people easily; she knew which way they would pass or strike a ball from their body language alone. Not that it changed anything.

She shook her head to free it of the thought of next season, which started in two weeks time. Ariel would have to invest even more time and effort now that the team was in the 'big league', and she was dreading it.

Sprinting the extra couple of metres as their golden stoned house finally came into view, Ariel slipped quietly through the garage door, careful to take off her trainers before entering the kitchen; her father hated having sand in the house.

As she placed her hand on the kitchen door, ready to push it open, Ariel heard hushed voices appearing to have a heated exchange. The door was cracked open slightly, and she peered through it with intrigue.