July 27, 2016 – Liverpool – 9:37 a.m.
.
The morning sun broke through the gap in the curtains, spilling across the bed and directly into Tristan's face. A quiet groan escaped him as he buried his face deeper into the pillow, hoping the problem would somehow solve itself.
It didn't.
Slowly, Tristan opened his eyes. He shifted slightly, trying not to disturb Barbara. She was curled against his side, nestled comfortably against his chest, completely oblivious to the battle he was currently fighting with the sun.
Tristan glanced down at her and wished he had her ability to sleep through anything.
Unfortunately, he was awake now. Carefully, he slipped out from beneath the blankets and immediately regretted it.
"Aah..."
The sound escaped him before he could stop it.
Every muscle in his body felt sore. Tristan stretched his arms above his head, wincing as several joints cracked in protest.
How was this possible?
He'd played ninety minutes in a Europa League final.
He'd played a European Championship final.
Neither had left him feeling like this.
Yesterday had somehow been worse.
He was so tired from the hours of walking, smiling, waving, shaking hands and hours and hours of standing still for photographs.
He rubbed his jaw.
Yep.
Still sore.
The press room afterward hadn't helped either.
The moment he walked through those doors it had felt like every camera in England had gone off at the same time.
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
He was honestly surprised he hadn't gone blind.
For several seconds all he'd seen were white spots floating across his vision.
And then had come the interviews.
More questions.
More cameras.
More photographs.
More smiling.
By the time he'd finally returned home last night, he'd been ready to collapse on the nearest available surface.
Which, thankfully, had been a bed.
Tristan rolled his shoulders again and let out another groan.
Football was definitely easier than being this famous.
.
30 Minutes Later
The smell of food reached Tristan before he even stepped into the kitchen. He could tell what dish was being prepared by just the smell of eggs and spices.
Shakshuka.
A relatively recent addition to his life and already one of his favorite breakfasts.
His stomach immediately reminded him that he'd barely eaten since yesterday.
The cold shower had helped wake him up, washing away some of the exhaustion still clinging to him after the welcome ceremony, but it hadn't done anything for his appetite.
Following the smell, Tristan walked into the kitchen wearing a black t-shirt and shorts.
Felix looked up from the stove.
The chef took one look at him and immediately frowned.
"Good morning."
Tristan grunted something that vaguely resembled a greeting.
Felix blinked.
"Damn."
"What?"
"You look terrible."
Tristan dropped into a chair with all the grace of a man twice his age.
"Thanks."
"No, seriously." Felix pointed at him with a wooden spoon. "I expected you to be exhausted after yesterday, but you look like you got into a fight and lost."
Tristan rubbed his face.
"I can't even feel my face anymore."
Felix laughed.
"I'm serious."
"I know."
Tristan leaned back in the chair.
"My cheeks hurt. My jaw hurts. My shoulders hurt."
"Football injury?"
"Worse."
Felix raised an eyebrow.
"Hours of smiling."
The chef stared at him.
"You're joking."
"I wish I was."
Tristan gestured vaguely.
"Hours of walking. Hours of waving. Hours of shaking hands. Hours of standing still for photos. Then interviews. Then more photos. Then more interviews."
He pointed at his own face.
"I think I smiled more yesterday than I have in the last six months combined."
Felix failed to hold back his laughter.
"The struggles of being adored by millions."
"Oh, shut up."
Felix set a plate of shakshuka down in front of him.
"Hey, it's the responsibility of the world's best footballer."
Tristan rolled his eyes.
"Here we go."
"You wanted all the fame."
"I wanted to play football."
The response came automatically, repeated so many times over the last three years that he barely had to think about it anymore. It was a natural response by now.
"You got both."
"Yep."
Felix smirked.
"The people demand access to their miracle worker."
Tristan grabbed a fork.
"Yeah, yeah."
He took a bite before immediately pointing at Felix.
"You've got a point. I shouldn’t complain about people loving me.”
Felix watched him take another bite before shaking his head.
"You know, if you ever feel unloved, all you've got to do is open Twitter."
Tristan laughed. “Nothing is every good on that app.”
He needed Tiktok back for his doomscrolling, Twitter wasn’t that place meant for that but it was he had at the moment.
"For most folks you are right but." Felix pointed his fork at him. "But when it comes to you? The internet loses its mind."
Tristan snorted.
"Again?"
"Again."
"Didn't they just spend the entire summer losing their minds?"
"Tristan, I think you seriously underestimate how much attention you get. Not just in this country, but around the world."
Felix shook his head.
"You just won the Euros. You signed for Liverpool in a one hundred and twenty million pound deal that shattered Ronaldo's transfer record. Then you had the biggest farewell ceremony football has ever seen followed by the biggest welcome ceremony football has ever seen."
He pointed toward Tristan.
"If anything, your fame's probably grown even more over the last week."
Tristan nodded slowly.
Felix had a point.
He was fairly certain Mendes and his team would eventually sit him down and show him all the numbers once things settled down. Followers gained. Engagement increases. Sponsorship growth. Every statistic imaginable.
For now, though, curiosity got the better of him.
Setting his fork down, Tristan reached for his phone and unlocked it.
The Twitter app loaded.
And immediately froze.
Tristan blinked.
"...What?"
The loading wheel spun for another minute or two before finally giving up and revealing the source of the problem.
His notifications.
Or more accurately, the apocalypse currently taking place inside them.
99+
99+
99+
99+
Every category looked broken.
Thousands upon thousands of notifications had piled up overnight.
The number beside the notification tab jumped higher before his eyes.
Tristan stared at the screen.
"I think I broke Twitter."
Felix didn't even look surprised.
"Figured that would happen."
Tristan clicked on the mentions tab.
.
The Twitter app loaded.
And immediately froze.
Tristan blinked.
"...What?"
The loading wheel spun for another minute or two before finally giving up and revealing the source of the problem.
His notifications.
Or more accurately, the apocalypse currently taking place inside them.
99+
99+
99+
99+
Every category looked broken.
Thousands upon thousands of notifications had piled up overnight.
The number beside the notification tab jumped higher before his eyes.
Tristan stared at the screen.
"I think I broke Twitter."
Felix didn't even look surprised.
"Figured that would happen."
Tristan clicked on the mentions tab.
.
@Teh_Storm: TRISTAN! WHY?! I WAS STILL CONVINCING MYSELF YOU'D END UP AT REAL MADRID EVEN AFTER ALL THE OFFICIAL ANNOUNCEMENTS. THIS ISN'T HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO GO. YOU SHOULD'VE JOINED A CLUB THAT COLLECTS CHAMPIONS LEAGUES FOR FUN. DON'T COME CRYING WHEN YOU REALIZE YOUR MISTAKE.
The replies to the tweet were brutal to say the least.
↪@Amos: Madrid fans are unbelievable, man. Let Tristan enjoy the biggest moment of his career. You're talking like he needs Real Madrid to win trophies. He's Tristan Hale. The guy just dragged Leicester to an unbeaten Premier League title, won the Europa League, and captained England to a Euros. I am begging for a Liverpool vs Madrid Champions League tie now. The meltdown would feed families.
↪ @Tita: Honestly, any match involving Tristan, Ronaldo, and Messi would feed families. It's been a three-year wait, but I've never been this excited to watch a player dominate the Champions League.
↪ @Kope: Honestly, I'm a bit nervous for Tristan. I know his mentality is tough and the guy doesn't fear pressure, but breaking the transfer record and then publicly saying he wants to win everything has to be crazy. Then again, this is the same dude who said he'd bring a miracle to Leicester.
↪ @Mud: This has basically become a routine for Tristan lol. He announces his goals for the new season and then somehow accomplishes them. It's the biggest gain and loss of aura at the same time. Have you seen the edits people make of Tristan saying he'd bring a miracle to Leicester and then lifting every trophy? That shit goes hard, bro.
While some supporters spent their morning celebrating the thought of Tristan in Liverpool red and dreaming about Champions League nights at Anfield, supporters from rival clubs were suffering through various stages of grief.
Most of them, admittedly, had been stuck there for weeks.
@RedDevilForever: GOD NO. GOD NO. WHY DID EVERYONE ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN?
I COULDN'T EVEN WATCH THE WELCOME CEREMONY. THE SECOND I SAW TRISTAN IN A LIVERPOOL SHIRT I CLOSED THE STREAM.
I'M GENUINELY SICK.
WE ALREADY SUFFERED ENOUGH WATCHING HIM DESTROY US AT LEICESTER. NOW HE'S JOINED LIVERPOOL?!
TRISTAN, YOU GREEDY BASTARD, WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM MANCHESTER UNITED?
YOU TOOK THE LEAGUE.
YOU TOOK THE CUPS.
YOU TOOK OUR DIGNITY.
WAS THAT NOT ENOUGH?
DID YOU REALLY HAVE TO JOIN LIVERPOOL TOO?
OH GOD.
WE ARE FINISHED.
↪Sin_Bad: My guy the league is finished, the world of football is finished, we let a monster be free from its shackle without hurting it. How can anyone win anything now?
↪ @Aee: Honestly, we Everton fans accepted our fate the second the transfer became official.We were already struggling to beat Liverpool before Tristan showed up. Now? We might need divine intervention. At least the Merseyside Derby is still going to be entertaining. For everyone except us.
↪ @Lucas: Mate, I'm surprised United fans still have hope left. After all the beatings Tristan handed them at Leicester, I'd have thought they'd be numb by now. Newcastle fans know exactly how petty that man can be. If he sees a tweet like this, he'll remember it for six months and score a hat-trick out of spite.
↪ @Mtari: Facts. The scariest thing about Tristan isn't even how good he is. It's that he takes everything personally. Boo him? Goal. Doubt him? Brace. Write an article saying he's overrated? Congratulations, you've just guaranteed yourself ninety minutes of suffering.
↪ @Aee: At least the Northwest Derby is going to be hilarious. United fans are acting like the apocalypse arrived which to be fair kinda did lol. At least before with leicester it wasn’t their arch nemesis, lol.
Tristan continued scrolling for another few minutes.
Liverpool fans.
England fans.
Leicester fans.
Rival fans having complete breakdowns.
At some point the entire thing started blending together.
He finally locked his phone and set it face down on the table.
"Well?" Felix asked.
Tristan leaned back in his chair.
"The internet has gone crazy."
"I could've told you that."
"You did."
Felix smirked.
"And?"
Tristan looked toward the kitchen window.
“I can’t wait to start playing at Anfield.”
.
Not the best or longest chapter, I know but ngl I was distracted watching game four of the finals cause what the fuck just happened.