So guys this is a story my best friend and I started writing for fun and decided to post it here so that you can tell me what you think of it (I really hope you don't hate on it
)It's quite long so I'll be posting it in parts and this is the first one.
Characters: Maria Sharapova, Serena Williams, Victoria Azarenka, Novak Djokovic and Rafa Nadal
Description: Just hours before the Wimbledon SFs something goes terribly wrong and our favorite players are forced to spend the rest of the day stuck in an elevator.
The sound of the rain falling against her window woke her up. As she stared at the thunder some clouds, a feeling of despair and agony overcame her. All this negativity triggered a long and contradictory monologue:
“Oh my God, isn't it enough that I’m playing against that terrifying creature whose sole purpose is to haunt me for life? It was already gonna be humiliating to lose against her for like the 1000th time. So is this stupid rain really necessary? For god’s sake, now it will be even more difficult to synchronize my limbs.
Stop it, you are not going into this match thinking that you have already lost, you’re a fighter damn it, so act like one! And even if I’m gonna lose, I’m gonna do it MY way (tripping, falling, hitting myself with the racket, doing the EXACT same thing over and over again and double-faulting the SHIT out of this thing).
“Yep, this is how I roll” she murmured while getting dressed.
After Maria got ready, she opened her “Endorsements Handbook”; her very own sacred bible, where she kept all her secrets about how to become the most sponsored person to have ever walked on this earth. She turned to chapter 2 (publicity and advertisement) and started reading the golden rules:
1. Eat Sugarpovas wherever you are, no matter what you are doing.
2. Take as many pictures as possible while holding Sugarpovas.
3. In each of your sentences the word Sugarpova must be used at least three times.
4. Get engaged.
5. Then break up.
6. Confuse people by posting pictures of you with short hair and cause panic.
7. Have a stroke while trying to give a seductive wink (gangnam style).
8. Be COMPLETELY unaware of anything whatsoever about your competitors-peasants.
9. After winning a match get confused about what to say (example: come on or fuck yeah) and as a result encourage the audience to fuck on.
10. Shave your mustache.
A smile appeared on her face as she was now prepared to face the lights of publicity. She left her hotel room and headed towards the elevator, not really caring if anyone noticed the tall dashing brunette exiting that same room just a few seconds after her.
He suddenly woke up, astounded by the vividness of his very own dream. Startled and upset, all he could think about was how real everything had felt to him. Just by recalling the memory it seemed like he was already there again, his fingers through her hair, his breath on her neck, their hearts racing, while she was gently sighing in his ear. As hard as he tried, he still couldn't resist the temptation of those thoughts .The taste of her breath, the smell of her skin and the softness of her lips were intoxicating to him. His mind was starting to slip right off track again just as a much too familiar voice brought him back to reality.
“Honey, are you awake?”
“Morning love” he replied in a hoarse voice, trying to keep his answers as short as possible, in an attempt to hide his guilt. He laid a kiss on the top of her head; he knew that this kind of intimacy wasn't enough, but anything else would have been just too hypocritical. Leaving the bed he walked towards the bathroom, still avoiding her gaze. He had to put this out of his mind, there were more important things to deal with. If he was to win the title there could be no distractions. This was Wimbledon for crying out loud, one of the most prestigious tennis tournaments, and all he did was waste his energy on things that weren't even possible. He was successful, in a relationship with an amazing girl that really cared about him. He had everything one could ask for, so what on earth was wrong with him? That was it; this would end right here and now.
He managed to silence the voices in his head and relax a bit. Satisfied after chasing away his worries he could feel a sly smirk appear on his face. The elevator doors opened and that smirk went away as quickly as it had come. He went blank, the only thought he managed to assemble as he saw her standing there was: “WHAT THE…”
“Hi” Maria said with a smile.
It took him a couple of seconds to pull himself together and managed to utter a faint “Hello”.
“What’s up Novak?” she asked cheerfully
At the sound of her voice he had a sudden flashback of last night’s dream.
“Um I’m fine.” He smiled awkwardly - “How about you? Today’s the big match right?”
With those words, Maria’s happy expression vanished from her face “Please let’s just not talk about it” came her reply in a tired voice.
He started to think about the dream again and ashamed he lowered his head to avoid her gaze, fearing that it would reveal the truth. Only to realize that this had been a really BAD idea, as he noticed her slim, endless legs. ”Oh crap!”
he thought and immediately averted his eyes for the second time, now trying to look at anything but her.
“Are you alright, you seem a little bit…disoriented?” she asked in a curious voice.
“Good job Novak that wasn't weird at all!”
“No I’m fine” he answered while still not looking at her.
“So did you like my birthday gift? Aren't Sugarpovas great?” she asked with a broad smile.
“Ha-ha” he laughed nervously -“Yeah I've been meaning to spank you…Um thank you, I meant thank you”
“Jesus, kill me now!”
Novak thought angrily.
Just in time, the elevator doors opened, to put an end to the awkward silence that had now taken place.
“You’re a hater and unattractive inside!” she yelled angrily in an upset voice at her TV. This was unheard of! How could there possibly be anyone on this earth that didn't like Justin Bieber? A frustrated hiss escaped her mouth, while watching those stupid people hating on the eighteen year old phenomenon.
“Whatever, this show sucks”
Serena thought and abruptly turned the TV off. She pressed play on her music player and her loud LOUD voice echoed across the room “Baby baby baby oh like baby…”
Suddenly she saw the door open and Venus’s anxious face appeared “Oh my god what’s happening, why were you making that noise, are you hurt?”
“Err… I was singing, thanks by the way that’s not offensive at all.” Serena answered irritated.
“Oh…” Venus’s reply came in an awkward voice while thinking “Please don’t hit me, please don’t hit me, please don’t hit me”.
But Serena wasn't paying any attention to her sister; she just kept singing in her so off tune voice. Venus realized that she was out of danger, for now, so she left the room quietly while she still could.
After getting her Bieber-fever on she was now ready to kick that Russian bitch’s ass. Even though she kind of liked her, because she’s hot, as she had claimed in interviews, she would make her regret the day she was born. That tall, screeching machine, better not try to out-grunt her today or things were going to get really nasty. That bitch was going down, hard! While doing her well-known crip walk, she got dressed and left.
As she saw the elevator doors open, she thought that god must be on her side, giving her the opportunity to intimidate her foe before the match. Djokovic was also there, talking to the upcoming loser. They were kind of weird though, Novak seemed a bit awkward and Maria was sort of blushing, “Am I interrupting something, here?”