Day 7: 13,609 Words

I got through today's writing by the skin of my teeth, but I did it! I decided to write the minimum amount that I need to write every day, which is now just over 1,500 words. I'm so busy, and 2,000 takes so long!

I loved writing about Fernando Torres today. Man, it took me back. My book is now basically about two love interests. That's exactly what I feel like writing right now, so in the spirit of this year's EsNoWriMo, that's what I'm going to do! I doubt it makes for very exciting reading, but I had a lot of fun at least.

Just as James had said, there was a surprisingly large group of fans positioned outside of the studio. She noted some red flags, some blue and purple flags, some white flags, and plenty of signs. As she approached the group, who was mostly sitting quietly and waiting, they all seemed to get up at once and started screaming. Abigail hadn’t ever heard anything quite so loud, from a relatively small group.

A pack of five overwhelmingly attractive men had emerged from the studio doors, and were rushing towards a set of trailers about 50 metres away. They were wearing matching black football shirts that read “Los Jugadores Infierno.” Aside from that, it looked like they had emerged from a random pants generator. One extremely tanned brunette was wearing a Speedo, and had already removed his shirt. This was understandable to Abigail because if she had a six-pack that you could grate cheese off of, she would take her shirt off a lot too. A long-haired brunette was wearing chaps, for reasons that perhaps made sense in the context of the film, but even then she wasn’t sure. One man was wearing a pair of parachute pants, another a pair of jorts, and the last man was wearing a matching pair of football shorts. The men’s outfits would have made them stand out anywhere, but their perfectly chiselled bodies and attractive faces made them truly outstanding. 

They stopped to sign some autographs and take pictures, but mostly seemed focused on getting away from the screaming and into their trailers.

Abigail started to feel self-conscious; did she look like she was a part of the fan club? On the one hand, she understood why a person would start screaming at the sight of this group. She almost wanted to, as well. But seeing as she was there in a marginally professional capacity, rather than as a fan, she turned on her heel quickly to head back to work. But even though she wanted everyone to know that she absolutely wasn’t there to scream her love for the stars of the movie, she turned her head back one last time. She wasn’t immune to the excitement of brushing with stardom; she hoped she could remember their faces. She kind of hoped that she would remember everything about this moment. It seemed like something she would want to remember clearly.

Just as she turned, a gust of hot wind blew through in a way that made time feel like it was standing still. The man in the football shorts, with golden brown medium-length hair, locked eyes with her. They were the prettiest brown eyes she had ever seen, even from a distance. Abigail felt her mouth hang open gormlessly; she just couldn’t help it. Time felt like it was moving slower than ever, like a melting ice cream with drops moving lazily down the side of the cone. He continued looking at her, and she kept looking back. 

One of the fans in the assembled group broke his focus on Abigail, asking him to autograph a red shirt. She could read the name on the back: Torres. 

He signed the shirt, took one last look at Abigail, and walked into his trailer. Abigail felt like she had been hit by something large, moving quickly. She couldn’t remember anything that had stunned her so much, so quickly. It suddenly felt a lot hotter in Toronto. 

* * *

When she got back to the Dawson’s Creek: Legacy set, she pulled out her phone to look at the IMDb page for Space Jam: Futbolista. From what she gathered, the premise appeared to be similar to the original Space Jam. In a high-stakes football match, where the fate of the world was in the balance, some aliens had commandeered the bodies of some of the most skilled footballers in the world. The only ones standing in the way of this alien takeover are football superstar Ricardo Ronaldinho, and a rag tag group of Looney Tunes cartoon characters, including Bugs Bunny. Their alien/footballer hybrid opponents form the “Los Jugadores Infierno”: the spicy Spaniard Sergio Ramirez, Englishman Herlock Sholmes, the Welsh wonder Garth Ball, and Fernando Torres.

Where the jorts, the parachute pants, and the chaps came in, she wasn't sure.

She decided that she wanted to learn everything about Fernando Torres. According to her research, he plays midfield for the English club Liverpool FC. He is 30 years old, born in Madrid, and according to her embarrassing Google search “Fernando Torres girlfriend,” is likely single. 

Her brush with stardom had left her feeling breathless and energized. What she planned to do with the knowledge that such a dreamy celebrity athlete was shooting a movie 100 metres from her, well, she wasn’t sure. Abigail was outwardly a very social and confident person, but the thought of approaching him and making conversation made her feel extremely sweaty. 

Instead, she endeavoured to write in a scene for Dawson’s Creek: Legacy, involving a sexy high school soccer player. It was of course always weird to write about sexy high schoolers, but at least the actors were all twenty five.

She sent her sister the web page for the movie, so she could tell her that she had seen the awe-inspiring cast and that they were even more handsome and ridiculous in person.

“Welcome to the Space Jam,” Isla texted back quickly. 

She wanted to tell her sister that she had made eye contact with the dreamiest cast member, but every way that she thought to say this sounded stupid and embarrassing. Her sister was mature and thoughtful, and surely didn’t have time for celebrity crushes or extensive discussion of steamy eye contact.