Summary: You and Olivier took the same flight together to Barcelona for the Arsenal vs Barcelona match. You knew you’ll never see each other again so you constantly pushes him off until the game day. He demanded you to the VIP Players Zone to see you again and get things nasty.
As soon as your flight got called, you immediately stood up and grabbed your travel bag. Once inside the plane, one of the flight attendants greeted you and assisted you to where you were planned to sit on. There were already a lot of people inside who busied themselves putting their bags in the overhead bin. When you were already on the aisle from where you sit, you put your sling bag on your assigned seat and carried your travel bag to put it in the overhead bin.
You almost groaned when you’ve realized how heavy this travel bag was and your short height wasn’t helping at all.
You were trying to push your bag inside when suddenly, a pair of strong hands caught your bag and effortlessly placed your travel bag inside the overhead bin.
You turned around and saw how a man’s wide chest was already face-to-face with your face. You looked up and saw a man’s three-day-old stubbles and his sharp jaws and his long, pointed nose. You gulped. You weren’t even sure of who owns this face and you were already ogling because you feel like he was handsome. Not only that, he also smelled so good.
And you were right.
This man in front of you is gorgeously handsome. And to add on, you know this man! You know his name!
“Oh, my God…”
He looked down to face you and smirked. “No thank you?”
“T-thank you…” You murmured so low you weren’t even certain if he heard it.
Olivier smirked again as he leaned below to grab his things and put it in the overhead bin, stuffing it beside yours.
Before he could even noticed that you were checking him out, you turned your back and sat on your seat by the window.
Damn, Olivier Giroud was here! Oliver from the football team, Arsenal! And he was here because he was going to Spain, Barcelona! He was going to the Camp Nou Stadium, as well as I am! We were going on the same exact destination and now he was here, standing in front of me. Oh my, how did I get so lucky? If only my brother were here, he was already screaming and crying to get a picture and an autograph from his favourite football player.
Well, I’d get an autograph for myself if he belonged to the Barcelona team. But sadly, he wasn’t so my heart just feels chilling.
The moment I heard him sat on his seat beside me, he said, “So who are you betting on?”
“Pardon?”
“We’re going to the same country,” he said. “And it seems like you knew me.”
“Yeah, I know you,”
“Well, you must be one of my fans.”
Wow, Oliver is one of conceited man. Can’t blame him though. He has got all the looks, the body, the money and women, the talent. Basically everything.
“Not really. I only knew you because my brother is a huge fan of your team.” I replied truthfully. Everyone who likes football knows him, of course! Especially that you have a diehard fan brother.
“Your brother? How about you?”
“Well, I’m rooting for Barcelona. That’s what I was here for.”
Olivier’s face went dumbfounded with what you said. He was a little bit pissed that you liked Barcelona more than Chelsea and that you only knew him because of you had a brother who’s a big fan of Chelsea. He was a bit fine that he knew you at least, and also a bit annoyed that you went to Barcelona for the home team.
Olivier’s seat wasn’t really beside you. His was on the aisle seat in the middle column, but when he first saw you having difficulties with your bag, he didn’t hesitated to approach and help you out. Especially that your outfit was an eye candy. You were wearing a white sleevless croptop, covered with a grey cardigan and a pair of jeans and white kicks. Just so simple yet so beautiful.
But when he finally saw your surprised yet beautiful face, he was more than delighted to help you out. And he even sit beside you just to get a good look, and also to get to know you. But he still can’t seem to let go of his annoyance.
“Hey.”
You turned to your right to see Olivier, eyes straight on his phone and earphones. You weren’t sure if he was talking to you so you just ignored him and went back to reading your book.
After the embarrassment you threw at him earlier, you feel satisfied and overpowered. Hmp, just because he’s got basically everything, doesn’t mean he had to assume that every girl who knows him are his fan.
“Hey.” He called again, louder this time.
“Are you talking to me? ‘Cause I have a name.” I snapped.
He turned to you and you cursed in your mind as you watched how handsome this man was. It was like he was carefully, slowly and patiently sculpted by God himself, like it was his greatest creation to women.
“Well, now you’ve mentioned, I haven’t asked for your name yet, Miss.” He smirked again. Can this guy stop smirking? My insides are already tingling.
“You don’t have to know my name. We’ll never see each other again anyway. And where’s your teammates by the way?”
“Are you even sure?”
He didn’t even answered my question.
“Certain,” I said with finality. “I just went here to watch the game with my brother to win a bet then we’ll probably get back home. Just think of it as a situation wherein a fan wants to get an autograph then go off.”
“Well, you’re not a fan. You clearly don’t want my autograph,” he said. “So I’m sure you’re totally different. And it’s just a name, darling.”
“And now you’re starting to call me names.” I shrugged but my insides were already dancing in circles everywhere. I turned away to hide my face which was trying real hard not to smile.
“Because you won’t tell me your name, sweetie.” He chuckled.
My insides were already dancing like a hiphop dancer. Earlier just feels like a ballet, calm and gentle beat.
“It doesn’t matter. You can just call me hey.” You know you’re playing hard-to-get with him. And you feel like you just want to play and let him call you anything he wants.
“That would mislead people, kitty.”
I just rolled my eyes and ignored him. I just went back to reading my book as I felt him stare at me. I ignored his long stares but I couldn’t help it. My face was already flushed.
“Quit staring.”
“I can’t stop myself. You’re so beautiful, my tigress.”
“I swear to God, if you won’t stop I’ll switch seat far from you.”
He quickly sat straight and put his hands together on his lap. You looked at him confusedly and just shook, turning on your book.
“I’ll behave now… Wifey.”
Your eyes widen when he called you that. Your insides jumped like a gymnastic and performed a tumbling and back wheel all over your mind and body, making you uncomfortable and conscious on the way you sit and act around him. And at the same time, you leaned your head close to the window and release a smile you’ve been hiding for a while because of this guy.
Damn you, Olivier Giroud.
An hour later, you’ve realized you have been sleeping soundly when you woke up on someone’s chest. You observed the situation. Your arms was wrapped around his waist while both of his arms were also embracing you. Both of your bodies under a clean, white cloth. Your head suddenly felt heavy from something above you, and that’s when you realized that he was laying his head on you and he was also sleeping peacefully.
You wondered about how you even ended up here around him.
You stayed for a while and listened to his heartbeat that made you realized how close you were to him, his warmth and heat felt nice around and you felt you were safe and secured, you never want to get out of his arms again. And the way his head was resting on top of your head was soothing and you could hear his breathing.
But you don’t this man. You only know his name, and the way he plays football. You don’t even know him formally and you aren’t interested in him. No matter how much good it felt to have his arms around you, you know it didn’t feel right.
“Olivier.” You called. When he didn’t answer, you tapped him on the arm. “Olivier, wake up. My neck hurts.”
He immediately moved his head away. “Oh, I’m sorry, baby.”
You just shook again your head for the nth time and ignored him, waiting for the plane to finally land on Barcelona.
~
This is it! This is what you’ve been waiting for, what you’ve been wishing. To get inside Camp Nou and be an actual audience to cheer on Barcelona. The stadium was unexpectedly beautiful and huge, it is even bigger than the picture, larger than you’ve ever imagine this place would be. And most especially, you’ve never expected that you would be able to eyewitness a Barcelona game in your whole life.
Wearing a Barcelona your brother brought you five years ago when you turned 26th and a Barcelona blaugrana flag, you asked your brother to take a picture of you standing and behind you is the hugeness of the legendary stadium. You can’t help but feel excited to see Leo, Suarez, Ivan, Sergi, and most especially, your favourite boy, Neymar.
“God, I’m so excited! I think I’m going to pee again.” You said.
“Geez, you’ve been going in and out of the bathroom for like 74 times.” Your brother exaggeratedly exclaimed.
“I can’t tell my women nature when to pee and when to not, okay,” you reasoned out and excused yourself.
“I bet you’re not gonna see the whole actual game if you’re gonna be like that.”
“Well, I’d hold it in ‘til the game ends.”
Going your way into the bathroom, you spotted some of the Arsenal players walking past you and entered somewhere that only the players were allowed to. When you were done, you went outside the bathroom.
Then a good timing happened!
Olivier Giroud and you crossed roads again.
“Hey, you!”
Your eyes widen when he quickly walked towards you. You gulped as you eyed his strong, buffed arms almost visible against his white shirt. You wanted to cling on it, or climb on while he was carrying you, his arms on your ass as your legs wrapped around his hips as he pounds hard in you.
You mentally shook your head, waking yourself up in a daydream and calming yourself down. Damn, you thought what the fuck were you thinking?
He was with his teammate, Debuchy, I guess? The eyes of the staff and some bodyguards were all on you, making you shy and uncomfortable.
“You went off too fast at the airport,” He said. Yeah, you left him at the airport quickly to avoid him forever. “We saw each other again and I still never had the chance to know your name,”
“Hey man, who’s this pretty one?” That guy, Debuchy, suddenly popped out of nowhere and asked you, eyeing you shirt. “Oooh, a Barcelona fangirl,”
“Yeah, we took the same flight together yesterday.” Olivier said.
“What a coincidence. I’m Mathieu Debuchy. May I know your name, miss?” Debuchy leaned his hand for you which you embarrassingly took it.
“Y/N.” You finally said it. Then you looked at Olivier, you don’t know but you feel like his eyes suddenly went dark.
“What a nice name for a beautiful woman,” Mathieu gave you a smile and waved. “Well, see you around, lady. Good luck to Barcelona and to you too. Let’s go, man.” Mathieu then went off and completely left his teammate behind.
“Yeah, see you when I see you again, Y/N,” He said in a serious tone. His eyebrows met together and you felt the tension between both of you rising. “Or maybe later…”
You went back to your seat bothered. The way Olivier said those three little words was like a threat, as if he was really certain he was gonna see you again later. A part of you wants to but another thought otherwise.
Hell, you wondered why were you even bothering Olivier will see you again when you’re just gonna go home straight after the game? And it’s not like Barcelona is a small city. You gotta stop thinking and fantasizing about him! You didn’t even thought about it when you were in a plane together!
You just shrugged off those thoughts while looking at the Barcelona people having their warm-ups. The game will start after an hour. You saw Neymar and Messi together and the crowd screamed but you smiled as you watched them walked together. You were saving your voice later.
“Excuse me,” A woman in her 40’s appeared next to you. “Are you Y/N?”
“Yes?”
“Will you come with me, Miss, with your brother, of course,” The woman gently asked.
You glanced at your brother, puzzled, and looked at the woman again. “May I ask what this is about?”
The woman smiled. “One of the players from Arsenal has asked for you to be in the Players Zone seat, Miss.”
Your jaw literally dropped as you turned to look at your brother who was also having the same reaction as yours.
“Oh, my fucking goodness!? Is this a joke?” Your brother exclaimed. People near you were already looking. Some of them even gasped in surprise. Who wouldn’t be? You can’t even utter a word at this moment.
“I’m afraid it’s not, sir,” The woman said. “Mr. Giroud has asked both of you to come down and take a seat with them. Not only that, you have also gained access to the additional services brought by the VIP Players Zone seat later on after the match.”
“We’re still going to pay for this, aren’t we?” You finally found your voice.
You knew it. Olivier has been making ways to see you again here because he knows himself that he would never see you again after the match. You will part ways.
“Yes, Miss,” the woman agreed. “Both of you are already Mr. Giroud responsibility as of today’s match.”
“Enough asking, sis. Let’s go now.” Your brother quickly stood up while you were still processing these whole thing.
You were here for Barcelona, not for Arsenal. Why does he even want you near the team’s seat?
Then you saw yourself sitting behind the player’s seats. Though there were still no players, you can already imagine the team Barcelona in front you, so near that you could almost touch them. You looked ahead and you feel lightheaded when the Camp Nou grass were as clear as water in your eyes.
“I’m not a Barcelona fan, you know,” You turned to your brother. He was standing and glancing the whole stadium. “But I feel excited right now that I’m here, close as we could get. But the thing that confuses me the most is why the hell is an Arsenal player doing this?”
You shrugged. “I’ve no idea.”
“Hey, you’re here!” Your heart jumped when there comes a familiar voice behind you. Dressed in his still white shirt, Olivier Giroud walked towards you. “Are you sitting comfortably?”
He glanced at your brother and offered a hand. “Olivier Giroud. And you are?”
“I-I’m B/N.” You mentally shook your head at your brother’s shaking voice.
“You’re really not lying, Y/N,” Olivier said to you and chuckled. “Your brother is my huge fan.”
“I am!” Your brother exclaimed. “M-may I get your autograph, Mr. Giroud?”
“You can have more than just an autograph and photo, kid.”
“Really!?”
“Yeah, in one condition. Tell your older sis to cheer for me.”
The moment he walked away, your brother instantly slapped your arm. “Olivier Giroud knows you! And you didn’t even tell me? How the hell?”
You decided to tell the story to finally let him get rid of you afterwards. “We just took the same flight together going here. That’s just it. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“How lucky you are,” you brother muttered. “And I can finally say I’m glad I was your brother.”
You rolled your eyes.
“And will you cheer for Olivier for me, please? I promise to be a good brother forever, I swear to god.” He added.
“I don’t know. I’ve been in love with Neymar for years and no one can blame me if I scream louder for him than for that Olivier.”
A phone beeped stopped you from listening to your brother’s whining and complains. You fished your phone from your bag and saw a text message from unknown.
This is Olivier.
I have something for your brother.
Your eyes widened. How the hell did he get your number? Ugh, this guy is so getting into your nerves! All your nerves, even the sensitive ones between your legs. And you can’t do anything about it pisses you off.
How the fucking hell did you get my number?
Then you realized you were asking a dumb question. You have forgotten that you put your contact number in the registration form to enter the big stadium. So you sent him an additional message.
Go off.
He replied so fast that you could tell that he was doing nothing. Is he not preparing for the match? Will you just come down here? I’d want to say something before the match.
I’m here for Neymar, for the home team, for Barcelona.
He stopped replying which was a sign of relief. But then a woman from before appeared again.
“Miss Y/N, Mr. Olivier has asked for you.”
You blinked. This guy wouldn’t really stop, would he? “Uhm, can I just talk to him later?”
“He says it’s urgent, Miss. He asked for you alone.”
MTV’S ‘REBEL MUSIC: NATIVE AMERICA’ SPOTLIGHTS INDIGENOUS ARTISTRY AND ACTIVISM
Authentic representation of Indigenous artists in the mainstream is scarce. The wedge that exists between Indigenous people and the world stage of mainstream art has effectively silenced the present-day struggles of millions of people across North America. As a country and a continent, we are long overdue to extend the reach of the conversations surrounding the lives of Indigenous people. This week, the audience will grow a little more through a televised approach.
Rebel Music, a short documentary series created by MTV, captured the lived experiences, artistry and activism of four Indigenous artists in the United States and Canada. Through the eyes of Frank Waln, Inez Jasper, Nataanii Means and Mike Cliff, viewers will learn about the ongoing battles to maintain land, resources, safety and identity in Native American Nations, as well as the musical and visual artistry celebrating the heritage and building legacy of the seventh generation.
FULL STORY: http://tlrd.co/1zwM7tA
