[ one ]
"Can I actually trust you to make me look like a boy?" She asked Marcela.
She was currently standing before Mariluz, adjusting a short haired wig on her head that looked strangely realistic. The next step to make her a guy was to strap her upper body with bandages, in order to keep her breasts concealed.
Mariluz really wanted to see the progress Marcela was making, but having the mirror removed from the room didn't help. Marcela wanted the transformation to be a surprise.
Several hours later, she placed her hands on her hips, a proud smile on her face.
"I think I did a good job." Marcela said.
Grabbing a hand mirror that was faced down on the budoir counter, she picked it up and turned it over to face Mariluz. Her jaw fell open in awe when she saw her own reflection. She looked like a real guy. The clothes Marcela had picked out for her did great to conceal her female physique.
"Michael Bartra is ready for this." Mariluz grinned, having already chosen her boy name.
All she had to do then was find a way to infiltrate the team.
And she knew just how to do it.
.
.
.
.
Her bestfriend Marcela had contacts in the Madrid team because her father had once been a footballer on the team. All she needed to do was call in a favor and Mariluz was in. She was surprised at how quick Marcela had made things happen.
She stood in front of a group of men dressed in their training uniforms, the coach standing behind her. She could feel the burn of their eyes on her.
They were all much taller than her and she wondered if they would notice she was actually a girl.
"From today on, Michael Bartra will be training with us." Mourinho told his guys, "He-"
With a menacing smirk on his face, Sergio Ramos crossed his arms over his chest. "Barta? Like Marc Bartra from FC Barcelona? So he's one of them, is he? A dirty cule."
Anger flashed across her face in an instant, but she tried her best to contain herself. Taking a deep breath, she informed him, "Just because my brother plays for Barcelona doesn't mean I like those guys. I'm a Madrid fan." As much as she tried, her last sentence didn't sound convincing in the slightest.
"How do we know he's not here to spy on us?" Cristiano asked, earning him nods of agreement and glares for Mariluz from the rest of the team.
Mariluz rolled her eyes at him, "Are the fumes from your excessive hair product usage killing your brain cells, Ronaldo? Why would I want to spy on you?"
The rest of the team laughed at her comment, some of them adding sound effect to the moment. "Ohhh!"
Cristiano shot her a death glare, but she responded with a victorious smirk.
"I think we should stop being so judgemental." Another one of them spoke up, his spanish tinged with a light portugese accent. He was a Brazilian named Ricardo, but he was better known as Kaká.
Because he was a Madrid footballer, Mariluz didn't know too much about him, but she knew he was very religious and very well liked by everyone, she also knew he had been the player of the year a couple of years back, even beating Ronaldo and Messi. Marcela had warned her that she could probably find a reason to hate anyone else on the team, but she claimed no one could hate Kaka. Not even Mariluz and her cule ways.
