Chica was a curvy Indian with large, dark brown eyes that were capable of reflecting your soul, long black curly locks and a gem of a smile. She was in the last few months of her teens. She'd be turning 20 soon, an awesome year, but her life was far from awesome. It had been over a year since she broke up with a long term boyfriend. The torturous break up had left her frazzled to such an extent that she was over relationships (for a LONG time.) She had lost all the friends she had, the people she loved the most, because of a silly misunderstanding. Chicha felt betrayed. She was about to turn 20 and had lost all her faith in friendship and people. Her only solace was a sport that is often called 'beautiful.' Football never failed to lighten her mood. Watching her team in red and white, she forgot about her loneliness. People always referred to her love for Manchester United as borderline madness.
Had she known, about the people she was about to meet in the coming few days, Chica would've spend her days in anticipation than in vain.
