One Week
Miércoles – Wednesday – Onsdag
What had started as a walk around the neighborhood had – thanks to the surprisingly nice weather – turned into a rather lengthy trek and despite the baseball cap on her head, pulled far down her forehead she knew that several of the people she passed had recognized her. No one had said anything but the looks they gave her, both curious and judging, spoke a hundred truths…
The first time people had recognized her out on the town, that she noticed photographers following her and Fernando around, she’d found it incredibly uncomfortable, as if all sense of privacy had been sucked out of her life with a snap of the fingers. But in the end – despite how crazy it sounded – it was something you just got used to. You had to, or you’d go crazy…
It was just that when something bad happened, be it Fernando getting injured, a nasty rumor floating around or…or signing with one of the biggest rivals, the only thing people wanted was to catch you doing something wrong, or out of character. Just so that they could get it on film and tell the world about it.
When she first found out that she was pregnant, she had started thinking about what she was wearing and how she looked when she ventured out of the house, because there are few things worse than waking up to unflattering pictures of yourself on the front pages of the tabloids, accompanied by downright cruel headlines…
Though after she actually became a mother, her wardrobe choices had taken a natural backseat to caring for her child, protecting her little one. Because it was one thing following her around, taking pictures of her and Fernando when they were having lunch, shopping or just walking down the street together and a whole different one to go after her baby.
He was just a baby, he didn’t understand what was happening around him, he couldn’t defend himself against intruding photographers who just wanted a scoop. No matter what the cost was as of late…
Ducking her head further as she pushed the pram with a sleeping Elias in it in front of her and walked past a group of lads, all wearing ‘Pool memorabilia, she silently question her own sanity. The moment her mother had heard about the craziness surrounding Fernando’s – then possible – transfer, she’d insisted that Emma and Elias come out and visit her, get away from the attention.
But as the stubborn idiot she was, she declined, stating that everything was fine…
Now Fernando was still in London, she was still in Liverpool and at least half the population of the city currently hated her husband…
Good times…
The first time people had recognized her out on the town, that she noticed photographers following her and Fernando around, she’d found it incredibly uncomfortable, as if all sense of privacy had been sucked out of her life with a snap of the fingers. But in the end – despite how crazy it sounded – it was something you just got used to. You had to, or you’d go crazy…
It was just that when something bad happened, be it Fernando getting injured, a nasty rumor floating around or…or signing with one of the biggest rivals, the only thing people wanted was to catch you doing something wrong, or out of character. Just so that they could get it on film and tell the world about it.
When she first found out that she was pregnant, she had started thinking about what she was wearing and how she looked when she ventured out of the house, because there are few things worse than waking up to unflattering pictures of yourself on the front pages of the tabloids, accompanied by downright cruel headlines…
Though after she actually became a mother, her wardrobe choices had taken a natural backseat to caring for her child, protecting her little one. Because it was one thing following her around, taking pictures of her and Fernando when they were having lunch, shopping or just walking down the street together and a whole different one to go after her baby.
He was just a baby, he didn’t understand what was happening around him, he couldn’t defend himself against intruding photographers who just wanted a scoop. No matter what the cost was as of late…
Ducking her head further as she pushed the pram with a sleeping Elias in it in front of her and walked past a group of lads, all wearing ‘Pool memorabilia, she silently question her own sanity. The moment her mother had heard about the craziness surrounding Fernando’s – then possible – transfer, she’d insisted that Emma and Elias come out and visit her, get away from the attention.
But as the stubborn idiot she was, she declined, stating that everything was fine…
Now Fernando was still in London, she was still in Liverpool and at least half the population of the city currently hated her husband…
Good times…