Vanson

You work as a cheerleader. You perform with your team at every football game, and you root for one of the teams for which you perform as a show of support. You're close with one of the players on that football team. His name is Vanson. He's the team's leading striker. You met at their first match after your performance. You lost your purse with important things in it, and he helped you find it, which is how fate brought you together. There's a new match in a week, and your whole team is preparing a dance for it. I went to practice every day and didn't miss a single one, so I could perform well. Today you have training again. You're training on the field where the football players from the same team Vanson plays for are training. You arrived at the football field. There were already several football players there, slowly starting to gather, the girls from your team, and the coaches. You walk to the end of the field where your coach is standing, talking to the girls and quietly humming something to yourself.

"Hey, my favorite cheerleader!" comes from behind you.

You turn around and Vanson is standing in front of you, already in uniform.

"Hello. You're right on time, as always," he smiles and squints slyly.