#sofia huerta

it is a photo of your old arsenal teammates gathered together, smiling, arms draped around each other at the training ground. at first, it was just the usual pang of nostalgia, but then your eyes caught the caption.  

“new era, new beginnings. we are glad to have you here officially, renee!”  

your chest tightened. renee, your old assistant coach, the one person who had always stepped in to shield you from jonas' constant berating. she was the assistant coach who would pull you aside after those brutal sessions and tell you that you were good enough, that jonas didn’t see the full picture.  

now she is the head coach at arsenal.  

you blinked hard, trying to stop the spiraling thoughts, but they were already there, clawing their way to the surface.  

what if jonas had left months ago? 

would you still be at arsenal? would you still have viv nearby, your closest friend, within walking distance whenever you needed someone to talk to? the familiar ache of missing her twisted in your stomach.  

you let the phone drop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. the memories came flooding back … sitting on the arsenal bench game after game, never given the chance you deserved, feeling like dead weight. jonas’ voice still echoed in your head, sharp and cold.  

"this is why you don’t start. mistakes like that.”  

"you’re lucky i am not throwing you to the B team right now." 

the worst part? you believed him.  

it wasn’t just the past dragging you down. last night’s champions league match against roma was still fresh in your mind. wolfsburg had won, yes, but all you could focus on was that one mistake… the one that kept the clean sheet from happening.  

it was the 83rd minute. jule had passed you the ball under pressure and you miscontrolled it, letting it slip past you. roma capitalized instantly, scoring a meaningless goal, but it didn’t feel meaningless to you. 

you’d been mortified, your face flushed as you jogged back to your position, trying to act like it didn’t matter.  

it did.  

now, as you sat on your bed, the weight of that error combined with the arsenal memories felt unbearable.  

the notification for the starting lineup against lyon for the next group stage game came through just after breakfast. you hesitated before opening it, but deep down, you already knew.  

your name wasn’t there. you were benched.  

your chest caved in.  

is that mistake against roma going to cost me here like it would’ve at arsenal?  

the thoughts spiraled. am i even a good player?  

you arrived at the stadium quiet, head down, hoodie pulled up to avoid eye contact. the locker room was filled with positive energy unlike your negative ones. all of your teammates are talking , laughing, hyping each other up. you barely registered any of it. you sat at your spot, tying your cleats with trembling fingers, hyper-aware that you weren’t starting.  

ari sat down next to you, her hand brushing your arm gently.  

“hey,” she said, her spanish accented voice soft, “you okay?”  

you forced a smile, trying to sound casual. 

“yeah, i’m fine.”  

ari didn’t look convinced. her brows furrowed, but she didn’t push. 

“okay. just… if you need anything, you know any of us are here.”  

“thank you,” you murmured, but your voice was hollow.  

the match kicked off, and you watched from the bench as wolfsburg battled lyon… your heart heavy as you saw sofia and lindsey out there, your national teammates now playing against you.  

lynn was on the pitch, of course, playing the full 90. the both of you played the same position. she was everywhere, her speed noticeable. you couldn’t help but watch her, your chest tightening further. 

you wanted to be out there too, contributing and actually changing your own mind about your stance as a player, not sitting useless on the sidelines.  

the final whistle blew, a hard-fought draw, and you hadn’t played a single minute.  

after the game, as you walked onto the field to see your teammates, sofia caught your eye.  

“hey,” she called, jogging over with lindsey in tow.  

“hey,” you said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.  

“you okay?” lindsey asked, glancing at you with concern. 

both of the lyon players looked with concern. 

“yeah, just… tough game,” you lied.  

both of them looked at you for a moment longer, as if they wanted to say more, but they didn’t push. they just gave you tight hugs before heading back to their team.  

you trudged into the locker room, feeling like a ghost.  

before you could sit down, sveindís was there, wrapping her arms around you tightly.  

“i know why you’re upset,” she whispered against your shoulder, “but you know you’re still one of us. you do belong here.”  

you felt your throat tighten, but you just hugged her back, eyes burning.  

the rest of the team was talking, some laughing, some talking about post-game plans, but you sat there, staring at your cleats, feeling like the world was caving in.  

when the locker room had emptied out a bit, you felt someone sit beside you. lynn.  

“y/n,” she said gently, placing a hand on your back. “what’s going on?”  

you shook your head, swallowing hard. 

“nothing. i’m fine.”  

she didn’t buy it.  

the dutch woman’s hand slid up, resting softly on your upper back, and she leaned in, her voice low. 

“please don’t lie to me.”  

your defenses crumbled at her touch, her closeness. the warmth of her hand grounded you, and the tears you’d been holding back finally started to sting.  

“it’s just…” you started, your voice cracking, “i made one mistake. just one. and now i’m benched again. it feels like arsenal all over again. this is so ridiculous because i know i cannot start every time but i start to feel like… like i’m not good enough.”  

lynn’s brows furrowed, and she shifted closer, her arm now wrapping around your shoulders.  

“arsenal?” she asked softly.  

you exhaled shakily, wiping your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. 

“yeah. i… i never really told anyone, but jonas… he was horrible to me. i was benched all the time. even for tiny mistakes. and he made me feel like i was useless. like i’d never be good enough. he would always make sure i knew that too…”  

lynn’s arm tightened around you.  

“you’re nothing like that here,” she said firmly, her dutch accent stronger. 

“you belong here. and no one, i mean no one, is judging you for that mistake against. not even close. all of us have done worse.”  

you felt someone else sit down on your other side, poppi. sveindís stood nearby, watching you with soft eyes.  

“we’ve got your back and we do love you here already,” alex said, her voice strong but kind. 

“this isn’t arsenal. we and even the coaches don’t tear each other down here.”  

sveindís knelt in front of you, grabbing your hands. 

“you’re at wolfsburg now, y/n. mistakes happen. we all make them but we grow from them together and move on.”  

tears slipped down your cheeks, but you didn’t feel as alone anymore.  

lynn, still holding you close, pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, the same spot she had just days ago.  

“you’ll never go through that alone again,” she whispered.  

you closed your eyes, the warmth of lynn’s touch seeping into you, grounding you.  

you felt lynn’s arms still wrapped around you, her hands resting above your hips as if anchoring you there. the woman’s coconut scent filled your senses, calming you in a way you hadn’t expected.  

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice still shaky but full of gratitude.  

lynn held you tighter. 

“always.”