Football singularity

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[13/11/2019, Location: Motor Lublin Arena, 19:20]

The crowd at Motor Lublin Arena was already a roaring beast, its voice echoing across the darkening sky as anticipation swirled through the air like wildfire. The stadium lights burned bright, shining down on the freshly cut grass that stretched out like an emerald carpet, waiting to be torn apart by the upcoming clash.

Banners draped in red and black fluttered along the stands, their colours merging with the sea of fans dressed in jerseys and scarves. The South Koreans chanted with relentless passion; their synchronized roars filled with national pride that reverberated throughout the venue. Meanwhile, the German supporters countered with their own thunderous support, voices deep and resolute, waving flags and singing battle hymns.

The players were yet to emerge from the tunnel, but the pre-match tension was already building to a fever pitch. Everyone present knew that this wasn't just a game—it was a battle for the right to stand on the world's grandest stage, or for the right to be able to say that my country's next generation is the best in the world, which signalled the possibility for a real-world trophy.

However, above the noise and energy, high above in the sleek, glass-fronted VIP lounge, the atmosphere was vastly different. It almost resembled a modern ball or a gathering of elites in ancient Rome, ready to watch gladiators do battle for their entertainment. The room offered an almost broadcast-like view of the field, the kind you would see in video games like FC, perfect for those who preferred luxury to the frenzy of the common stands. Soft leather seats, elegant decor, and gourmet refreshments arranged on polished tables created a refined contrast to the chaotic energy outside.

Businessmen in tailored suits murmured in hushed tones, their attention split between conversations of profit margins and the match soon to unfold. A few celebrities mingled with their entourages, most eager to be seen at the event of the evening, phones flashing as they documented their attendance. Most had only attended the game after realising just how much attention this tournament, which should have been just another youth competition was getting.

However, some genuinely loved the game or showed up to support their family members or simply their home country. Among them were two figures that drew a few glances from the others but maintained a distance from the small crowd. Lisa Madeline Rex, a beautiful lady in her mid-thirties who might as well have been in her late twenties as she sat back with the elegance of the businesswoman that she was.

She was dressed in a stylish beige suit that accentuated her natural grace, her turquoise-gold eyes glinting like precious stones under the soft lights. Her light blond hair was pulled back into a sleek bun with two curly strands framing a face that carried both beauty and authority.

Beside her sat May Parker, her appearance was equally striking but a touch more delicate. May wore a grey suit jacket over a crisp white shirt, its top buttons left open to give her outfit a relaxed, carefree edge. A matching belt was tied loosely at the front, hanging with an effortless style that looked almost unintentional. Rather than suit pants, she opted for a matching skirt that reached the top half of her thighs, giving her a youthful touch.

Her white ankle socks were mostly hidden by the classic white Adidas sneakers she wore, their black stripes and green-and-white Adidas flower logo on the tongues completing the look. Draped over her shoulder was a small red handbag, matching her black glasses that had a light rosy tint to them. May's peach blond hair fell in loose waves down her shoulders, framing her sharp green eyes that flickered between the field below and the phone clutched in her hand.

She had taken the pictures she needed for the day to keep her socials active and simply wanted to watch the match like a regular fan. She would be lying if she said that she didn't prefer Basketball over football, but she felt like she was watching a movie live whenever she saw her boyfriend play. For this sole reason, she liked to put her full attention on the field when he played, rarely posting pictures of her while he was playing.

Just as the pre-match proceedings were about to begin, the doors to the VIP lounge swung open. Two new arrivals entered, drawing a few casual glances from the room's occupants. The man moved with a smooth, effortless confidence, his dark hair neatly styled and his piercing blue eyes sweeping over the room with cool precision. He wore a tailored charcoal suit that fit him with the kind of perfection only achieved by a personal stylist or a closet filled with outfits with which one couldn't miss even when trying.

Beside him was a little girl who seemed to be a bundle of energy barely contained within her ten-year-old frame. Her wavy chestnut hair tumbled over her shoulders, and her bright, confident eyes darted around the room as if she were already deciding who was worth her attention and who wasn't. She wore a designer jacket over a T-shirt that featured a stylized image of Rakim mid-Griddy doing his signature celebration as his deadlocks swayed.

"Oh wow, Daddy, look!" she exclaimed, her voice cutting through the soft murmur of conversation as she pointed toward the glass window. "That's where he's gonna be! But aren't we too far from the pitch? He won't even hear me cheer him on from all the way up here,"

Her father smiled at her veiled complaint, wondering where all her etiquette lessons had gone. "Sweetheart, if he's as good as you say, he'll feel your support even from here," he replied with an amused grin, his deep voice carrying a warmth reserved only for his daughter.

She puffed her cheeks, clearly unsatisfied. "But Daddy, that's not enough! What if he needs to hear me shouting his name when he scores? You know, like real fans do."

The man chuckled, steering her gently toward an unoccupied spot by the glass window. "How about we take a seat, and you cheer as loud as you want? I'm sure your favourite player will hear you even over the crowd."

Her expression brightened instantly. "You're right! And if not, I'll just have to be even louder. I still can't believe that big sister actually got to meet him in person. I'm so jealous,"

She plopped down on her designated plush leather seat upon exiting the glass doors that separated the stadium and the luxurious VIP lounge not at all paying attention to the blonde pair of women sitting next to her. She was practically bouncing with excitement as she leaned forward to get a better view of the pitch, already enamoured with the atmosphere. The players were beginning to walk out of the tunnel, their heads held high as they emerged into the cacophony of noise that awaited them. The sight of Germany's familiar white and black kits immediately caught her attention.

"Daddy! There he is!" she squealed, practically vibrating with excitement. "Number twenty-two! That's him! Rakim Rex! Oh my gosh, he looks even cooler in person!"

The man settled into his seat beside her, his smile widening at her enthusiasm. His gaze briefly roamed over the other occupants in the VIP section, noting the polished elegance of the lounge. He recognised a few of the businessmen, having dealt with them in the past, but didn't bother going to start a conversation. He was here to spend time with his daughter, who, unlike his older daughter, was the definition of a tomboy, causing him to sometimes treat her like the son he never had.

His gaze involuntarily travelled to the two women sitting next to his daughter, nodding politely in greeting upon making eye he refocused on his daughter. "Yes, sweetheart. It's him," he replied, chuckling. "You know, you're making it sound like we flew across the world just to see him play."

"But we did, didn't we?" she retorted, her smile turning cheeky as she folded her arms, practically daring him to deny it.

He shook his head, ruffling her wavy chestnut hair. "Maybe you did little Anna-Marie, but Daddy has to work for a living, otherwise, I couldn't afford to keep sponsoring your team."

"Don't worry, Daddy, if you don't have money, I will just ask Mommy, she makes one movie and boom we can swim like Scrooge McDuck," Anna-Marie said in a matter-of-fact tone as she looked into her dad's blue eyes and patted his shoulders to soothe him. Barley able to keep his facial features straight he could already tell that his daughter actually believed that not knowing that he was the largest investor for all his wife's projects and films.

Not willing to shatter his daughter's worldview, he simply pointed to the field, redirecting her attention. "Look, they're about to start."

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To Be continued...