My Own Worst Enemy

I'm Screwed

A/N: Soooo. This is my first story. I've been lingering a while and reading, but I haven't been writing at all. Until I realized a theme. So here's my fic about how Christian Yelich fell in love with a fat chick. Because I can at least write my way to hope... right? 😂 Let me know if I should continue this!

As an anxious person, plane rides tend to be exhausting. First, the light rails were running behind. Then, the TSA line was disastrous. THEN the flight from Minneapolis to Milwaukee was delayed. My anxiety and the height of my Type A personality were really starting to create a storm that I knew wouldn't end well.

After the short flight, I was ready to leave the airport and get home and snuggle with the dog. I was home for a weekend and I already knew it would be jam packed. Being a college student who works two jobs means that free weekends to go home were few and far between. Thus, having a weekend where I could reconnect with old friends meant the world.

Of course, I had to get off the plane first. My patience was waning thin and I continued to curse myself for always choosing a seat in the back - the seats were just a tad bigger and that meant a lot to me. After an agonizing eternity, I made out of the plane and started to speed walk through the terminal, not really paying attention.

Because that ends well in an airport.

As my upper body smashed into what felt like a wall, my midwestern kicked in.

"Ope! I'm so sorry," I gushed, cheeks flushing an even brighter red. I looked up to see who's day I inconvenienced and stopped dead in my tracks. Christian. Fucking. Yelich.

Dear god I just rammed my fat ass into an Brewers player.

"Hey it's not a problem. Airports seem to be a dog eat dog world around here," he smirked.

Me, being the dweeb I am, let out a chuckle and bit my lip.

"I really am sorry. It's been a hell of a morning and I was in a rush. Bed. Dog. Y'know," I smiled, looking down. "I'mahugefan," I rushed out before going to pick up the phone I dropped.

Of course his foot stopped me.

Of course he went to pick it up with a smile.

Of course he's a perfect gentleman.

Of course.

"I'm glad to hear that. I can understand the dog situation, too," he smirked.

Oh god he's lingering. People are gathering. I'm going to be the joke of the city.

I let out a breathless laugh, heart hammering in my chest.

"So obviously you know my name, so the charm in that is gone. So... what's yours, Miss Minnesota?" Christian asked, eyes sparkling as he winked.

"Does it really matter? I doubt the chick running into you at Mitchell International will leave a lasting impression," I sigh, brow furrowing. I'm just another fat girl from Wisconsin. Why would I matter to Christian Yelich - inarguably the hottest player on the team?

"It matters because..." the outfielder paused, forehead crunching up.

"Exactly," I whispered and use every inch of my 6' frame to grab my phone. I nervously flipped my hair and started to walk away. "Sorry again for bumping into you. I hope to see you play well against the Cubs Friday," I smiled softly, eyes slightly sad.

I knew that I, the oddly tall chunky chick who assaulted Christian Yelich would be smattered across twitter and Instagram in a matter of minutes. I just hope no-one knew me or my handles.

——————-

I made it around two corners before the shaking and quick breathing took hold of my chest.

An anxiety attack. In the middle of the airport. Today was going swimmingly.

Less than a minute passed until I was suddenly handed a bottle of water and a strong hand wrapped around my shaking one. After that, it was only a few more minutes (and a round of vomiting into a garbage can) until my breathing calmed and my shaking lessened.

Did I even have to look up to know who helped me? Probably not.

I did anyway.

I was right.

Christian fucking Yelich was crouched beside me, entire face looking out of its element and ridiculously worried. "What happened? Do you need a doctor?" He asked, a frantic edge suggesting that he'd been trying to get an answer this whole time.

"I'm okay," I said quietly after drinking some water and shakily standing up. My shakiness was steadied, of course, by the beautiful man beside me.

"How can I make this better?" He pleaded.

"I really just wanna go home," I whispered, on the verge of tears. This was not my day. "I just want to get my luggage, call my Uber, and go home," I begged.

"We'll get your luggage. I'll have my buddy drive you home," he said. "Now please. What's your name?"

I decided that it wouldn't hurt. He wouldn't remember it anyway. "Grace. Most people call me Gracie."

"Well, Gracie, it's a pleasure."

I think I'm screwed.

—————

We found our way to baggage claim and grabbed the duffel that I checked at the gate.

"I um... why're you at the airport?" I asked dumbly. Jesus Christ Grace you sound like a dolt.

Christian let out a chuckle, and I knew he was thinking the same thing. God I'm an idiot.

"I was doing some sponsorship ads in Chicago. Nothing exciting."

"Ah," I said breathlessly. You're acting like a fool Grace. He probably has a girlfriend.

"So... you're a Brewers fan?" Yelich asked.

Being the sarcastic twerp I am, I stared at him like he had stated the obvious. "Fuckin duh," I laughed, rolling my eyes.

"So are you going to freak if I tell you that the buddy picking me up is Travis Shaw?"

You've gotta be shitting me.

"Like... The Mayor of Ding Dong City Travis Shaw. Like walk off against the Cubs in late September Travis Shaw?!??" I'm freaking out. Holy crap I have to tell my dad and brother.

"I'll take that as a yes," he sighed, with a smile. "Where are your seats for this evening?" He asked as we walked out.

"Oh my friend and I got student tickets so we're up in the terrace," I smile, knowing that I love baseball too much to care.

"I can fix that. If you promise me something," he winked.

Shit. "What's that?"

"Hang out with me after."

This weekend just got a whole lot more interesting.