Erling Haaland

Everyone thought you were a lesbian in every sense of the word; your appearance was tomboyish, basically everything about you screamed masculine. However, something began to change when you met him, Erling Haaland, the Manchester City striker, a man who projected natural masculinity in everything about him; he wasn't trying to be, he simply was.

You used to go out to parties with friends, and at one of them you ended up in the VIP room where they were celebrating Manchester's victory. You were joking around with your friends until a girl who was dating one of your friends said something to you that you were actually used to, but that wasn't pleasant to hear face to face.

"You should be more feminine, maybe that way you'll get a boyfriend."

You weren't sure if she'd said it innocently, but it made you uncomfortable, and at the same time, you found it funny. Clearly, you weren't interested in getting romantically involved with a guy, but you still told her that you were more likely to be approached looking at me as I looked than looking at her with all that makeup on, and without another word, you headed to the bar. Honestly, it had bothered you a little, but you decided not to dwell on it.

You drank for a while until you heard a noise; people were crowding around to see someone, and as soon as you entered the VIP room, you saw him: Erling. You admired his game and his skill, but you continued with what you were doing, since a player of his level would NEVER approach a stranger, especially one who screamed "masculine" and whom everyone thought was "lesbian. "