The game had ended. Mamello stood in disbelief.
What the hell just happened?
He was staring into blankness as the final scores were announced. It was a tie game. A tie game of all things. He groaned, slamming himself into the bench. Of course. Of course his opening game was a tie game. And a tie game against Mexico of all nations. Couldn't she have laid off and just let him win this one? This whole thing was taking place in his country after all.
The crowd was going wild and all he could bring himself to do is sulk. He didn't lose, no, but he didn't win either. His head began to pound. Damnit, he thought, we had to tie this one, didn't we? The opening game in our country... we had to tie.
He was going to be hungover tomorrow, he knew that much.
His thoughts were interrupted by a Mexican accent. Mamello groaned to himself. Here we go.
"Ay! Mamello!" He glanced to his side and watched as a grinning, tanned skinned woman decked out in a Mexican football uniform, slid next to him and crossed her legs. "Tie game."
"I know, I was watching." The African buried his face in his hands.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, kay? You all played a good game, which is why I'm here." Mexico smiled, plucking one of his hands away from his face. "Alfred, Matt, and a few other people wanna take me out for some drinks for not losing and so I thought..."
Mamello shot up a look. "Really, Cecelia?"
The woman smiled. "Hey, man, you didn't lose either and I mean, I dunno if you have plans, but come on, just a drink."
The South African smiled, "My god, thanks Cecelia, sure, I'll come."
"And hey, if you wanna bring anyone, bring them." Mexico grinned. "I'm not sure if you know, but I'm not too familiar with Africa, so bring your buddies along, yeah?"
Mamello grinned, "Yeah."
––––
Mexico – Cecelia
Hahahah, idk what this is. A bored drabble.
