A week before the IAC
A pair of journalists caught sight of Rébecca as she stepped out of FNRF headquarters.
"Rébecca, Rébecca!"
"Mademoiselle Firaut!"
Rébecca smiled and threw up a peace sign as the photographer snapped some pictures. The second journalist, a reporter, immediately began peppering her with questions.
"Mademoiselle Firaut, how does it feel to be the only Firaut on the équipe nationale!? Are you ready to play on the team without your father there to back you up? Are your parents travelling to HUElavia and the Free Republics with you?"
"Whoa, whoa whoa, chillax!" Rébecca flashed a toothy grin. "One question at a time! There's no rush, I'll answer them all!" It was truly remarkable how much Rébecca's relationship with the papparazzi had changed since the end of the players' strike. Just a few years ago, every press event, photo op, and conversation with the meda had been laden with tension. Now, Rébecca was the press's favorite. Franky had taught her to laugh and joke with them, and she liked the celebrity status and attention that came with being a young star. And anyway, for all her dad might say, life was more fun if you could laugh and be friendly with people. She couldn't see how he managed to be so reserved and stoic all the time.
"How does it feel to be the only Firaut on the équipe nationale?" repeated the reporter.
"It gives me a lot of pride to wear that name on my back every time I play," said Rébecca. "My jersey still says 'R. Firaut.' They were going to take the 'R' off, now that they don't need to distinguish me from my dad anymore, but I asked them to leave it on. It's an homage to him. He stood behind me during the strikes, and helped me fight for my spot on the team, and every time I kit up I'm honored it's his name I get to have on the back of my shirt.
"And you mentioned the équipe nationale—that's another source of pride. It's a privilege to get to put on the crimson, violet, and gold, and I think the whole team feels that. For me it's definitely super meaningful—obviously I wasn't always sure I'd have the chance to do that. So now, just being where I am, being a Firaut and being where I am—it's my heritage. It makes me happy that we still have someone from our family on the team—and it makes my dad happy too."
"You don't miss having him on the team with you?"
"Of course I do. But you can't live in the past. Being on the team with him last year, and before that, that was something that I think we had both looked forward to our whole lives. And we'll always remember those moments as something truly special. But right now, I'm just excited for the IAC. Thrilled to be preparing for another tournament, and I think the squad has something special this year. I've got a good feeling about it." Rébecca smirked, and it oozed confidence. She began to walk toward the street again.
The reporters followed at her elbows. "There were rumors coming from federation league staff today that you might not be returning to Reçueçn FC. Have you signed with another club?"
Rébecca opened her mouth, but couldn't think of an answer. She coughed, hoping to mask her obvious hesitation. "Uhm... any updates about my free agency, that is, any press releases, or, uh, news, you can expect... my agent will handle all of that."
"Would that happen to be why you were at federation headquarters today, to speak with club management?"
"I'd rather not... as I said, any questions about my contracts you can ask my agent. Sorry, I don't have time for any more questions." And putting her head down, she pushed past them.
Shit, Rébecca thought. How did they know? Is the news out already? She had indeed come to the FNRF building today expressly to finalize a new contract with Association Genève, the biggest rival of Reçueçn FC, her old club. The club had negotiated with her agent for a couple weeks, and it had sounded to Rébecca like a great idea. But she hadn't wanted the news to be public already. Yet I can't just deny it, she thought, or Genève will think I'm getting cold feet, or regretting it already. I need to get home and tell Maman and Papa about this already so we can let the cat out of the bag.
The FNRF building was in fact in the same neighborhood as the house where Rébecca lived with her parents. She strode hurriedly down the sidewalk, as if trying to leave her problems behind, but her troublesome thoughts scurried along after her. It was a beautiful summer day in the city of Reçueçn, but it was lost on Rébecca as her mind clouded over. She'd known that at some point, sooner rather than later, she'd have to break the news to her parents: that she had taken a new job, that she'd be playing for the rival team, that she'd be moving away. She'd wanted to find the right moment to do it—surely if she could've just waited longer, there would have been a day when there were no other errands to run, everyone was in a good mood, and they could all sit down and everything would turn out okay. But now she was stressed, and popping it on her parents would stress them out, and her mom would cry... well maybe, but definitely Rébecca would... and she could see the whole thing going wrong already.
In just a couple minutes, she had made it home. She paused outside the front door to take a breath. It's all in your head, she told herself. It's all going to be fine. Besides, I have some time to figure out what I'm going to say before Maman and Papa get home.
She let herself in and slipped off her shoes. She was about to go up to her room when she heard Gerauld's voice. "Rébecca? Is that you?" She forced a smile onto her face and walked back into the living room. Gerauld and Samantha were both sitting there, their faces looking strangely drawn.
"Yeah, Papa!" she called.
"Can you come here for a second?"
Rébecca cautiously padded into the living room. Standing there in before both her parents while they sat on the couch gave a weird dynamic. "What is this, the jedi council?" asked Rébecca.
"I thought you were with Chloé today?" said Samantha.
"Bah, oui. She had an errand to run so I came home early." Rébecca was glad now the reporters had accosted her earlier. This was beginning to feel like an interrogation, and it was helpful to have already been practicing her upbeat, reporter-question-fielding persona. Rébecca looked back and forth between her parents. Her dad's keen gaze seemed unperturbed by her mom's questions—he clearly had something else on his mind.
"Rébecca?" he asked. "I heard a rumor that you're moving to Genève. Is that true?"
"Gerauld!" Samantha turned to her husband as if to shush him. "What if it was supposed to be a surprise?"
"Then she should have told us before everyone else found out," said Gerauld. "We live with her. You'd think we ought to hear about it first if she was moving out."
Samantha turned toward her daughter with an apology in her eyes, but her eyebrows began to dip into a frown as Rébecca lingered in silence.
"Mais alors, Rébecca!" Samantha finally said. "Is it true!?"
Nothing for it now but to play it off, thought Rébecca. "Yeah, it's true. I didn't wanna tell you until I was sure, and we only finalized the contract just now. But yeah. It's true."
It seemed to Rébecca that her father's face fell as she confirmed the news. Yet when he answered, his words didn't match his expression. "I... We're... I'm very proud of you, Rébecca. This is a big milestone: your first contract as an adult, the first one you've negotiated yourself... the first time you'll be living outside of Reçueçn... you should be proud of yourself, too. It's remarkable the things you can accomplish. Of course we all knew that already." He smiled, sadly.
Rébecca bounced forward to give him a hug. If Papa said he was happy for her, then she, at least, could show her emotions. She found her grin returning, more easily now. "I'm so glad, Papa," she said. "Reçueçn FC's great, but they play so slowly, and for a striker like me, Association Genève is just the obvious choice. I'll be able to shine there... I'll be the new Franky! Oh, I can't wait to tell him! Just imagine the look on his face! He's going to be so happy!"
"I saw him at the FNRF today," Gerauld said. "He was pretty excited about it."
Samantha had stepped out of the room when Rébecca had hugged her dad, but she came back in now, holding a small box of cupcakes. "We got these to celebrate for you!" she said. "Signing your first contract yourself! It's a big day!"
Rébecca pulled a lemon cupcake out of the box and took a bite. "Mmm," she said, squeezing her eyes shut with delight. She did a little dance in the living room—a little twirl with the cupcake held aloft, posing like a ballerina. Then, grinning mischievously, she did a little booty shake and started beatboxing. She began to chant as she danced to her own beat. "I did it, I did it, Rébecca frickin' did it. Je rêve, je rêve, Association Genève."
Samantha smiled, seeing how full of joy her daughter was, and shimmied over toward Gerauld in time with Rébecca's chanting to offer him a cupcake. But Gerauld didn't seem to feel the same party spirit. He stood with his arms at his sides, his eyes locked on Rébecca.
"You'll be moving to Genève," he said. "I can't get over it. We'll have to start looking for a place for you as soon as you get back from the IAC."
"My agent said she could figure it out for me while I was out of the country," Rébecca called over her shoulder, her mouth full of cupcake. Then she let out a shrill cheer. "Youpie! Genève, here I come! I can't wait! Lakes, and mountains, and chocolate!"
Gerauld snapped. "How can you—" His tone was brittle, like nothing Rébecca had heard before. She froze, mid-beat, and stared at him.
Gerauld put a hand to his forehead. "I'm sorry, Rébecca. I'm happy for you. I'm just not feeling very well. I'm going to go lie down." And he rushed out of the room, leaving Rébecca and Samantha staring at each other.
(Daniel Kindred - 63')
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