𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖘, lionel messi

002. do you think they will notice?

PARIS
chapter two

"DID YOU really just drag me out of the comfort of my hotel bed to come and watch a football match with you?"

Following behind Lewis to their designated seats, Rory could strangle the driver for having disrupted her long-awaited evening of doing absolutely nothing. With the season progressing in full swing and all the silly season drama surrounding the paddock this year, she has hardly had time for any of those idle evenings. Alas, here she is, at Le Parc des Princes stadium, thanks to the courtesy of the social butterfly and diva that is Sir Lewis Hamilton. 

"Cheer up," Lewis nudges her shoulder, his hand coming up to turn the frown on the edge of her lips upwards, but she quickly swatted his hand away. 

"Do not," she warned, glaring at him with a finger raised in warning. Rory attempted to be menacing, but her stare only made him laugh harder. 

"You're like a fussy baby," He chuckled, shaking his head while he adjusted in his seat. "It's going to be fun. When was the last time you came to a game?"

"I don't know," she shrugs. "I don't exactly have time for anything while I'm chasing you rats around the world every weekend - OW!" Rory yelps when Lewis flicks her on the forehead, making her glare at him again. 

"I seriously do not like you right now." 

"Oh, how will I ever recover from this wound?" Lewis exasperated, placing a hand over his chest, making Rory roll her eyes as she resisted the urge to chuckle at his antics.

"Shut up, the game's starting."

"So, now you're suddenly invested?"

Paris Saint-Germain won their season opener against Quevilly Rouen Métropole with a score of 2-0, and while Rory would never admit it out loud to her best friend, lest she suffers his unending boasting about how he'd been right all along, she found herself genuinely having fun throughout the entire ninety-minutes of the game. 

She could not help but notice all the changes made to the sport since she'd stopped watching football matches with her family; her sitting in the living room of their childhood home in Monte Carlo along with her father - tagged along by her annoying younger brothers who insisted on unleashing a civil war due to their club's rivalry. 

Despite moving to the home of the famous FC Barcelona, Rory couldn't find it in herself to continue keeping up with the sport by herself, and then Hervé passed away, and it became one of those things that they used to do with papa. 

"Neymar invited us down to meet him at the locker room, is that okay with you?" Lewis asked, looking up from his phone screen to ensure she was fine with it.

 Sure, he'd dragged her to attend the game with him, but he wouldn't put her in the uncomfortable situation of being surrounded by a locker room full of footballers. 

Rory raised her eyebrows, "Do you mean, am I okay with meeting the entire PSG team and making Pierre jealous? Lew, it's like you don't even know me."

Lewis lets out a bellowing laugh, shaking his head at her antics. Perhaps he worried over her more than he should at times, but he couldn't help it. 

"Careful, I might start to think you're only friends with me to meet my other famous friends," He remarks in a quip as they make their way towards the home locker room. A security guard stops them before his eyes turn to Lewis and he nods in recognition, allowing them to pass through. 

Wow, Rory thinks in awe. The influence Lewis holds is something that will never get old for her. 

"Mon Dieu," she exclaims, my god, "Of course not. I'm only friends with you for Roscoe."