football imagines

interview (barcelona//griezmann)

You put the lanyard around your neck and felt your heart still fluttering. You couldn't believe it- being a reporter for Barca! Never in your wildest dreams did you think you'd have the opportunity to meet and talk to the star players of this legendary club. Through good seasons and bad, no one could deny that Barcelona was one of the most celebrated football clubs in the world and had a large, large passionate fanbase. And now you were here, trying to come up with content to feed the fans.

You looked down at what you were wearing- a Barca home jersey and black skinny jeans. That should make a good impression- shouldn't it? You hoped so. You had interviewed some Team B players before and the manager, but you had yet to meet the starter team. Until today.

One of the secretaries guided you to the room you'd be interviewing the players. You clasped your notebook tightly, running through the questions mentally while the crew set up reflectors and lights. You were then asked to sit on one chair and given a list of the orders of players you would interview. Your heart was about to jump out of your chest, and the interview hasn't even started yet!

You asked for a mirror and looked at yourself. You had tied your hair into a high ponytail and put on light makeup. After all, the focus wasn't you- it was the players. You didn't understand why you were this nervous. But, in a way, wouldn't anyone be?

The moment finally came. Your first interviewee was Gerard Pique. You asked him some general questions about Barcelona, his favorite memories here, what he hopes for the coming season. You never noticed just how beautiful his eyes were. You couldn't figure out who was luckier- Shakira or him. They were both beautiful specimens and perfect for each other.

Then, you interviewed Coutinho. He was so polite and sort of shy, different from the star who constantly scored goals on pitch. You appreciated his sincere answers. After that came Lenglet and Jordi Alba. By then, your nervousness was almost completely gone. You seemed to get engaged in the conversations, forgetting that these were world-renowned footballers. Instead, they felt like men who used to be boys with big dreams. You realized these were all humans, underneath the glory and trophies.

The feeling started rising again when you saw Lionel Messi was next. You couldn't believe your fate, for the lack of better words. Lionel Messi was going to be just a few feet away from you. You were raised in a football-crazy nation like many others. It felt like you couldn't go anywhere without hearing Messi's name. He was a genius with the ball, and his talent was indescribable.

The man finally graced you with his presence, and you felt your legs begin to shake involuntarily. He was real and in front of you! You greeted him and pretended to be calm and having fun interviewing him, whereas in reality, you were a nervous mess. Messi was probably used to people losing it in front of him because he knew how you felt and was very kind.

"Muchas gracias," you remembered to say to him when you were done. He nodded and gave you a smile. Once he left, you breathed a sigh of relief. You were done with the biggest interview. You assumed the next few interviews would be of just other regular subs.

"May I have some water?" you asked one of the crew members. They graciously brought you some. You were just about to screw the lid on your bottle when you saw him. Your mouth was full of water and you dare not spit it out. So you swallowed it, but of course, some of it went down the wrong hole and you started choking. Perfect timing.

You tried stifling your cough by taking another quick swig of water. Thankfully, it worked, but you were left with red eyes. You took a very quick glance at him again. He was looking at you. Shoot.

"Y/N, the last interview of the day is Antoine Griezmann," the secretary informed you.

You took a deep breath and smiled at the secretary. Griezmann seated himself down and extended his hand. You took it and shook it, hoping he would not mind how cold your fingers were. You usually got cold when you were nervous. You tried not to think too much about the fact that you just shook hands with probably your biggest football crush. French people all out to be in the Louvre- every single Frenchman or woman you've met exudes sophistication. And they were always so gorgeous. Griezmann was no different. There he sat, casually wearing the same jersey as you, only with his name and number on it. His perfect tan, sharp jawline, bright eyes, hair seeming incredibly soft. You tried not to think about his eyes- your favorite feature about him, but it was hard to do considering he was sitting right in front of you.

"Are we rolling?" you asked the cameraman. When he nodded, you looked at him, trying your best not to scream or melt. One by one, you asked him questions- about how it feels to be a part of Barcelona, about his best moments, about what he does after a bad game, and his pre-game rituals. With each answer, you seemed to know him better and better.

When the camera stopped, you said, "Merci."

"You speak French?" Antoine asked, taking his metal headband out of his glossy mane and putting the headband on again.

"No, I wish. I stayed there for three weeks, though," you said, your nervousness returning. On camera, you hid it well, but now that this was just him talking to you, the butterflies in your stomach were raging.

"Oh, really? Where did you stay?" he asked, looking at you.

"Bordeaux. I was there with my cousin for a festival."

"Was this your first time interviewing?" he asked, still looking at you.

"Was it that obvious? It was. Sorry if I messed up," you apologized. 

"No, no. You actually handled yourself pretty well. Not everyone has the gift of interviewing. Or asking interesting questions instead of the same ones over and over again," he said, getting up. You were saddened that he was leaving. But what did you think? He has training to do and goals to score. "Well, Ms. Y/N, it was good meeting you. Sorry you choked on your water. Happens to the best of us," Antoine laughed. You laughed along.

"Sorry about that. My body always mixes up the pipes," you said, looking down, trying not to blush. You felt your cheeks get warm, though.

"All good, all good. This was fun. I guess I'll see you around," Antoine said, giving you a wink. Then he left the room. You felt your heart stop for a moment then jump up and down. If you were Barcelona's new reporter, you better get used to that.