The stadium was alive with the hum of excitement, the chatter of reporters, flashes from cameras, and the rhythmic thud of football boots against the grass. It was the final practice match before the championship—a week away from the biggest game Haider Kazi and the Knighters would ever play.
Anaya stood near the sidelines, her phone and notepad ready, eyes sharp despite the fatigue that clung to her after a long day. The crowd was mostly journalists, but the air was heavy with anticipation; everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of the team’s energy before the final showdown.
She watched Haider move across the field, commanding, focused—captain in every sense. Yet, as the match progressed, she noticed something else: the flickers of vulnerability when his eyes briefly scanned the stands, the subtle slump of his shoulders when the whistle blew for halftime The public saw the confident star; she saw the man behind the mask.
After the practice ended, players gathered around the locker room entrances. Reporters swarmed, eager to get last-minute quotes. Anaya seized a few moments to chat with some lesser-known athletes—young players whose stories rarely made headlines.
“Do you feel the pressure for the final match?” she asked a midfielder, her tone gentle.
He shrugged, wiping sweat from his brow. “Sure. But pressure’s part of the game. We just have to trust the process and each other.”
Anaya nodded thoughtfully, jotting down notes. She glanced back to see Haider surrounded by a cluster of reporters. His usual guarded expression was there, but today, it seemed more tempered.
---
The next day, the press conference was held in a sleek, glass-paneled room inside the stadium. The atmosphere was different—far less chaotic, more controlled.
Haider entered with his usual quiet confidence. As he took his seat, his eyes instinctively scanned the room. Among the sea of familiar faces, one stood out: Anaya. She was there, camera off, notepad in hand, looking poised and calm.
His gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary. He caught her eye, a subtle nod exchanged.
When the floor opened for questions, many reporters rushed to ask the usual prying, dramatic queries about his personal life or the team’s strategy. But Anaya waited patiently, her question simple yet thoughtful when her turn came.
“Haider, how do you keep your focus under such intense scrutiny? Especially with the media constantly watching?”
The room quieted, the tone of the question catching many off guard. Haider paused, then answered honestly:
“It’s not easy. You learn to build walls but also find peace in the chaos. Focus comes from within, and from remembering why you play—not for headlines, but for the love of the game and the people counting on you.”
The sincerity in his voice softened the usual armour. When the conference ended, Haider felt a strange sense of relief. The media frenzy hadn’t drained him this time.
---
That night, Haider returned home, muscles aching but mind surprisingly calm. He dropped his keys on the kitchen counter, poured a bowl of cereal, and settled on the stool, flicking through his phone. PR messages, match reminders, and fan comments—the usual digital noise.
Just as he was about to turn off his phone, the doorbell rang sharply. He frowned at this hour?
Opening the door, he found a delivery boy holding a medium-sized package. “Package for 502,” he said without looking up.
“Thanks,” Haider replied, his voice dragging his attention to the number. 503—that was Anaya’s flat, next door.
The delivery boy’s face lit up when he recognized Haider. “Wait—you’re Haider Kazi? The Knighters captain? No way! I’m a huge fan!”
Haider smiled, a tired but genuine curve of his lips. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”
The boy nodded enthusiastically and left. Haider closed the door and looked down at the package. “She’s not home,” he muttered. A sudden worry knotted inside him. It was past midnight—why was she still out?
Curiosity won over caution. He carefully peeled back the taped edges and peeked inside.
Books.
One title stood out: Twisted Game.
His brow furrowed. He grabbed his phone and searched the title online, expecting maybe a sports novel. Instead, the synopsis described a tangled, intense romance filled with emotional twists that caught him off guard.
Haider shook his head, half-amused, half-confused. “Not exactly what I thought.” He was lowkey traumatised, especially with specific scenes."Astaghfirullah." The only words came out of his mouth
Before he could ponder more, a soft knock came from next door. Anaya’s voice, polite but tired: “Hey, I got your text. Sorry about the late hour—I came to pick up the package.”
He opened the door wider, holding out the parcel. “Here you go.”
She gave a small, grateful smile, her eyes catching his with a hint of surprise at his calm demeanour.
“Thanks for keeping it safe.”
“Of course.”
There was a brief silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Neither pressed for more. Just neighbours, quietly connected in the night.
Anaya turned to leave but paused. “Allahhafiz shaba khair Haider.”
“Allah hafiz, Anaya.”
---
The next morning, Anaya sat at her small desk, headphones on, editing clips from the previous day’s press conference. She focused on Haider’s speech—his words about focus and love for the game—and carefully pieced together a video.
The clip was simple but powerful. No drama. Just a man showing a side few saw: thoughtful, vulnerable, and real.
She uploaded it with a caption: Not all heroes wear capes—some wear jerseys.
Within hours, the video went viral. Fans shared it, praising Haider’s humility and sincerity. Social media lit up with hashtags supporting the captain, praising his leadership beyond the game.
Haider, checking his phone later, spotted the viral clip. A slow smile crept over his face. For once, he didn’t mind the spotlight. Because this time, it wasn’t the media twisting his story. It was her—
And maybe, just maybe, that was the beginning of something neither of them expected.
⚽️🎤💕
Does the sudden comfort Haider gets from media are the questions or the one who is asking questions
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BEHIND THE HEADLINES AND FIELDS
RomanceHaider doesn't believe in love-until he meets Anaya, the sunshine that somehow manages to get under his skin. He doesn't want her, but he can't stop getting pulled into her world, where everything is bright, bold, and utterly confusing. Anaya can't...
