The final whistle blew, sealing a triumphant 2-0 victory, but for the eighteen-year-old midfield maestro, the real evaluation was only beginning.
The noise of the stadium gradually faded into a dull roar as Rico descended the concrete tunnel in the stadium’s underbelly.
Sweat clung to his brow, and his muscles ached with a dull burn, but his expression remained as unreadable as it had been during the ninety minutes.
Waiting for him just outside the home dressing room were the two people who shaped the trajectory of his life.
His mother beamed with an uncontainable pride, stepping forward to embrace his sweaty frame without a second thought.
“You played so well,” she gushed, “You were everywhere.” His dad stepped up next, offering an appreciative pat on the shoulder.
“Yeah, that was great,” he agreed, his experienced eyes recognising the dominance his son had just displayed.
Rico, however, let out a slow exhale, looking down at his taped wrists.
“I was sloppy.” His dad frowned, shaking his head.
“You’re being too hard on yourself, Rico.
You got three points, that’s all that matters.” His father wasn’t just offering empty paternal platitudes.
He was a former professional player himself, a fiercely talented midfielder who had carved out a respectable career playing for Arsenal.
Unfortunately, his career had been cruelly cut short, forcing him to move across the Atlantic to manage a string of devastating knee injuries.
It was the main reason Rico had grown up in America; his father had retired in the MLS, putting down roots in the States.
Rico asked, “You think?” His mom smiled softly, “Yeah.
If you keep playing like that, there’s no way you stay here much longer.” Her confidence wasn’t maternal bias, either.
She was Rico’s official agent.
She knew the business of professional football inside and out, having gained her extensive experience navigating the European markets.
In fact, that was originally how she had met his father decades ago.
She knew her son was a goldmine waiting to be exported to Europe’s elite.
And she was right.
Over the following week, Rico took the MLS by storm.
The LA Galaxy won their first three games dominantly, and it was clear to everybody in the stadium that Rico was levels above the standard of the MLS.
He simply shouldn’t be in the MLS.
He was too good.
It was like watching a man playing against boys.
He dictated the tempo of every single match.
Because the football was coming so effortlessly to him, Rico found that he needed a different kind of mental stimulation.
He was taking a night’s rest to indulge in his greatest off-pitch passion.
Rico was a massive cinephile.
He loved going to the cinema and watching films of all genres.
Usually, he didn’t go to a movie theatre very often, as he much preferred to watch films from the comfort of his own home.
That was how he spent most of his free time.
But tonight, there was no way he was going to turn down an exclusive VIP pass to go to the premiere of School of Rock.
The atmosphere outside the Hollywood theatre was a circus of screaming fans, barricades, and blinding lights.
Rico arrived, stepping out of a black car, dressed in a dark charcoal suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and lean waist.
The moment his designer shoes hit the red carpet, a barrage of camera flashes erupted in his direction.
The paparazzi didn’t actually know he was a professional footballer; they had no idea who this eighteen-year-old kid was.
They were just snapping photos of him because they thought he was attractive, assuming he was a new up-and-coming model or a heartthrob actor.
He walked past the flashing bulbs, his eyes scanning the chaotic red carpet until his gaze briefly flicked over a woman standing near the entrance.
It was a fleeting moment, but her presence was undeniable.
She possessed an ethereal elegance that set her apart from the glamour of the surrounding crowd.
Her skin was fair, resembling porcelain, beautifully contrasted by her cascading, dark brunette hair that fell in soft waves, perfectly framing her delicate features.
She had large expressive doe eyes, a warm, captivating shade of brown.
Her smile, whenever the cameras caught it, was wide and breathtakingly radiant, lighting up her face and highlighting her striking full lips.
She radiated a graceful, almost regal charm.
Rico barely broke his stride.
He just walked right past her, indifferent to the Hollywood royalty standing mere feet away.
He just wanted to see this movie.
Anne’s POV The night was supposed to be a relaxed, supportive affair.
She was there to support her friends involved in the production, smiling graciously for the cameras and waving to the fans lined up behind the velvet ropes.
As she navigated her way through the loud throng of paparazzi, the sea of photographers suddenly parted slightly.
Suddenly, the crowd of photographers parted slightly, and a man strode confidently past her, commanding the atmosphere.
He was, without a doubt, the most staggeringly attractive man she had ever laid eyes on.
Standing at a towering six foot two, broad-shouldered, lean, and exuding an unspoken grace beneath his impeccably tailored dark suit.
His facial features were almost aggressively handsome, sculpted with the kind of ruthless symmetry usually reserved for marble statues.
He possessed a razor-sharp, chiselled jawline that could cut glass, high aristocratic cheekbones, and dark eyes that seemed indifferent to the blinding camera flashes surrounding him as he was completely unbothered.
Anne blinked, turning her head slightly to watch his broad back disappear into the grand lobby of the theater.
“Was that…?” Anne muttered to herself, her brow furrowing slightly as she tried to place the incredibly handsome face.
He looked like he belonged on a billboard in Times Square, yet he moved with a purposeful anonymity that intrigued her.
Inside the dim, sprawling theater, Rico found his seat near the very back.
It was exactly where he liked to be as it gave him an unobstructed view of the massive screen.
He sat comfortably in the plush velvet chair, his long legs stretched out, his hands steepled in his lap as he waited for the previews to conclude.
A moment later, the seat next to him shifted.
“Have I seen you before?” a soft voice asked from his right.
Rico kept his eyes fixed dead ahead on the screen.
“You watch football?” Anne nodded slowly, “Yeah, I support Arsenal.” “Oh,” Rico replied, his tone conversational.
“My dad played for Arsenal.” Anne’s eyes widened slightly in realisation.
“I thought I recognised you from somewhere.
Do you play?” “LA Galaxy,” Rico answered succinctly.
“That’s pretty nice,” Anne said, interested in the gorgeous athlete sitting beside her.
“What are the games like?” “Very boring.” Anne frowned, tilting her head.
“What’s so bad about it?” Rico finally shifted slightly, his hands remaining steepled.
“It’s too easy.” Anne let out a quiet scoff, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I can get behind arrogance as long as it’s not directed at me,” she said, sounding annoyed as Rico hadn’t looked at her once during the exchange.
At her remark, Rico finally turned his head.
His piercing eyes locked onto hers, and a slow smile spread across his face.
“Oh,” Rico said, his tone shifting into one of pleasant realization.
“It’s you, Anne Hathaway.
Big fan.” Anne blinked, taken aback by the warmth in his gaze.
“You are?” “Yeah,” Rico nodded smoothly.
“I’ve seen all your stuff.” Anne couldn’t help but smile, flattered by the athlete’s admission.
“What was your favorite?” “The Cat Returns,” Rico stated without missing a beat.
Anne’s jaw dropped slightly in shock.
“You’ve watched that?” “Why are you surprised?” Rico asked.
“It doesn’t seem like your sort of thing,” Anne admitted.
A dubbed Japanese animated fantasy film about a girl turning into a cat wasn’t exactly what she expected a professional footballer to enjoy.
“I’ve also watched Princess Diaries,” Rico added casually.
Anne laughed softly.
“Why did you watch Princess Diaries?” “I went to a cinema, and it was the only thing I didn’t watch,” Rico replied with refreshing honesty.
“What did you think?” Anne asked, highly amused by his candour.
Rico shrugged.
“It was enjoyable.
Kind of formulaic, but you did great.” “There is a sequel coming next year you know,” Anne pointed out, a playful glint in her doe eyes.
“Well, I look forward to it,” Rico replied, leaning back in his chair.
“Not as much as Cat in the Hat.” Anne stared at him, trying to gauge if he was joking.
“Seriously?” “I’ve been wanting that movie for years,” Rico said honestly.
“Aren’t you a bit old for that?” Anne teased.
“I’m 18.” Anne’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.
“You look so mature for your age.” “Thanks,” Rico smirked, “You look good for your age, considering you’re older than I am.” Anne gasped, lightly hitting his muscular bicep.
“You did not just say that.” Rico chuckled, a low, rich sound that vibrated between them.
“Okay, I apologize.
You’re really beautiful, but can I watch the movie now?” Before Anne could even formulate a witty response to his brazen flirting, the massive theatre speakers boomed to life, and the studio logos flashed across the screen.
As the theatre darkened and the opening credits began to roll, Anne looked at Rico who’s posture was rigid, his striking profile illuminated by the flickering projector light.
He didn’t utter a single word for the entirety of the film; even when Anne stole glances at him, his eyes never left the giant screen.
For the next two hours, Rico remained a silent statue, engrossed in the cinematography.
When the credits finally rolled, and the house lights slowly illuminated the theater, Rico leaned back and stretched his broad shoulders, looking satisfied.
Anne turned to him, a curious smile on her face.
“What did you think?” “It was good,” Rico replied, turning to look down at her.
“What did you think?” “It was great,” Anne said enthusiastically.
Rico hummed, “Maybe I just have higher standards.” Anne rolled her eyes playfully, leaning against her armrest.
“Maybe.” Rico looked at her intently, his dark eyes tracing the delicate features of her face.
“And you certainly meet those standards.” The smoothness of the line caught Anne off guard.
She let out a breathless laugh, “What a forward young man you are,” she said, deliberately playing into the age thing to mask how charming she actually found him.
“My goodness.
That was good.” Rico stood up, effortlessly buttoning his suit jacket.
“Well, can’t fault me for trying,” he said, offering her one last smile.
“Well, I got to go.
I got another movie booked.” Rico turned and went to leave, his long legs easily navigating the narrow aisle.
But before he could take three steps, a soft hand reached out and lightly caught his wrist.
He turned back to see Anne looking up at him, a confident smile lighting up her flawless face.
“Woah, I didn’t say no,” Anne said softly, her brown eyes locking onto his.
“I would like to go to another movie with you.” A/N) He will leave LA Galaxy in like fifteen to twenty chapters.
My thing is he should go to a team in England.
It’s just easier because there are more studios over there so she can still do films.
I think Fulham is the best bet.
You play with Van de Sar and Louis Saha.
Also, I think it’s a realistic signing.
He wouldn’t go to a big team, especially back in 2003.
This could be his 2015/2016 Leicester.
What do you think?