gag reel | trent alexander-arnold³

one.

the mentor & the mentee

One thing that Wynter lacked was free time for herself. Yet even with the little time to herself during training—away from staff, away from her teammates—she didn't actually reserve it for herself. She chose to spend it mentoring players from the second team.

It wasn't her idea to take on the role of a mentor, truthfully. The thought of not being taken seriously by the players remained on her mind. Not to mention she didn't know them like that to put herself forth for the job. But others like Virgil and Hendo thought it could not only help players but she could also benefit from it all, knowing that their teammate wanted to solidify her leadership skills. And with time, encouragement from others and the younger players' enthusiasm and liking towards the french player, Wynter from there just couldn't say no.

The french player couldn't have been more wrong to ever think that she wouldn't be taken seriously by the younger players. In truth, she was adored by them (and Trent had heard enough of it.). There was so little time with so many players interested so Wynter arranged to have a rotational system in place. That way she could manage one player at a time and it would switch every other training session and on such a day, she had to take on Curtis.

Locking a glance on the empty goals, Curtis controlled the ball before taking the shot, smiling wide when the ball landed in the nets. He was proud of it, rightfully. It mirrored Wynter's first World Cup goal, and that's what he was aiming for. He called out, "So how did you think it was?"

A distance away to the side sat Wynter, head tilted and fingers tapping against her knee. "That shot right now?" She pointed between the net and the younger player. She shrugged, "I mean... I thought it was cute."

"Cute?" Curtis frowned. He'd never heard the word cute used to describe a shot. He began to shake his head. "I don't understand—"

"Like it was on target, sure," Wynter placed her phone down, clasping her fingers together, "but any goalkeeper could've stopped that."

"What did I do wrong though? I-I did everything you advised..."

"Relax, Curtis," she laughed as she approached Curtis. It was almost too easy to play with the younger players. Not that they were naive, it's just that they could blindly believe Wynter's words without argument, and the french player found that hilarious. She let out her final laugh when she nudged his shoulder. "I'm playing with you."

"Oh right," Curtis scratched the back of his head. "I just don't know when you're joking or not." Knowing Wynter meant knowing how she was one for laughs and banter unannounced. She was, firstly, shy from a few angles. But beyond all of her that was introverted was someone who found comedy in almost anything to make it her own.

She huffed out a small laugh. "Does anyone at this point?" Wynter patted his shoulder before moving away from him.

Curtis followed after Wynter with pace. "So just to be clear you actually think that my shot was good?"

"Yes, Curtis," Wynter affirmed with a chuckle. She picked her phone up from her previous spot and unlocked it. "I thought your shot was so good— in fact, beyond that. This right here is the definition of perfection."

She opened up her story, which held a clip of someone carrying out her first World Cup goal. Expecting a random guy from the internet, Curtis' nose wrinkled up when Wynter pulled up a video of him from no more than a few minutes ago. He tilted his head as he glanced at his mentor. "Wait, why are you showing me a video of me?" Then he stopped—suddenly, it hit him. His execution of her goal was her idea of perfection. "Oh wait, you were talking about me," he said, pointing to himself.