The team keeps forcing an attacking strategy that isn't producing goals.
The losses keep piling up.
The pressure keeps mounting.
And then there's today.
Because if there's one player I need to get through media day without creating a headline, it's Carlos.
I spot him waiting near the backdrop, bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking entirely too pleased with himself for a man who got sent off last weekend.
I give him a nod, and he strides toward the gaggle of reporters waiting for him.
I fold my arms, take a deep breath, and silently pray for professionalism.
The prayer lasts approximately three seconds.
“Carlos, you got a red card against Millwall,” the first reporter says. “What’s your take on that? It looked like a bit of a temper flare.”
Carlos smirks, and I immediately know he’s about to throw gasoline on a fire. “It wasn’t a temper flare. I meant to do it.”
Oh, for the love of—
The reporter blinks.
Then every microphone in the semicircle seems to inch forward simultaneously.
“Are you saying you intentionally fouled him?”
Carlos shrugs, completely unbothered.
“He was getting away with everything all match. You give it, you get it.”
With that, the atmosphere changes instantly. I can practically smell the blood in the water. The reporters exchange glances. The phones go up. Someone starts scribbling frantically in a notebook.
Here we go.
One of the reporters leans in and chuckles. “So, you retaliated?”
“I’ddo it again,” Carlos says, like it’s a badge of honor.
Jesus Christ.
I’m moving toward them before I even realize it. My stomach twists with panic because I know Matt heard all of that, and there’s no way he’s not using it in the documentary, probably in the episode titled “Addison Scott Can’t Control Her Team.”
“Carlos,” I say brightly, stepping into the circle with my best professional smile. “Can I borrow you for a second?”
A couple reporters groan. One even laughs. They know exactly what's happening. Addison Scott has gone into damage control.
I point toward Brennan, who's sitting nearby watching this disaster unfold with the expression of a man witnessing a car crash.
“Brennan will answer a few questions instead.”
Carlos looks confused, but steps back without protest. I nod toward Brennan on the bench and gesture with my eyes. He understands instantly and steps in, taking over the interview and shifting it back toward solid ground.
I pull Carlos to the side of the pitch. The second we're far enough away from the microphones, I drop the smile.
“Are you out of your mind?”
