eighteen | hometown glory

(@aliannagreer via snapchat stories!)

ALI HAD NO INTEREST IN GOING TO NEW ZEALAND IF IT MEANT SHE HAD TO BE AWAKE AT FOUR IN THE MORNING. Neck pillow around her shoulders and wearing the baggiest jeans possible, she shuffled behind Jordan through Brisbane Airport. He loosely held her hand (for paparazzi purposes) as her AirPods blasted a Taylor Swift re-record. She had her hair in a messy bun on the top of her head. Jordan carried her backpack and two litre Frank Green.

She kept her head down, praying they didn't get recognised. (Though, the entire Broncos team was literally travelling in a single file line. . . followed by like six bodyguards and assistants and wives and children, so. . .)

"So, how longs the flight?" Came Ali's croaky voice as they neared the terminal.

Jordan looked back at her and shrugged. "Like three, four hours or something."

Ali groaned. She loved seeing different places but she hated travelling. She hated car rides longer than an hour but at least on those she could scream-sing rather then listen to screaming babies. As if on cue, one of Adam Reynolds children started whinging to their mother. Ali wished she packed melatonin—she could finish a whole packet at this rate.

You'd think for a multi-million dollar sports team, they could afford to hire a private jet or something but no, they were flying economy. (Except for Herbie Farnworth who'd got upgraded to first class because the airline double-booked his seat. Ali gave him the fattest middle finger as he passed her.)

Pro: she had a window seat, Con: Jordan's shoulders were so wide, he was squishing her against it. His biceps were too round so the concept of sharing the arm rest wasn't possible. He didn't even seem to notice how much of her space he'd taken up—even going so far as to spread his legs a bit. His muscular thigh forced hers together. If Jordan's literal boss, Kevin Walters, wasn't sitting in their row she would've chastised for invading her personal space. In fact, they discussed Rugby for much longer then she cared to tolerate.

The selection of airplane movies made her want to rip her hair out; she could watch The Emoji Movie or Mr Bean. Then her AirPods died halfway through Mr Bean and of course Jordan fell asleep with his in. The only thing she had was the view (which was just plain ocean for ninenty-percent of the flight).

Did she mention she hates travelling?

💌

(@Jordanriki via snapchat stories!)

THE FIRST THING JORDAN WANTED TO DO WHEN THEY LANDED WAS SEE HIS FAMILY. He didn't have any responsibilities until the next evening so, in a rental car, they set off down the green roads. (She wanted to cry—more travelling?) It wasn't enough to have his family meet him at their hotel, no, they had to drive another three hours to visit his home town. The idea of meeting her fake-boyfriends entire extended family actually terrified her but he was too excited for her to have the heart to tell him how uncomfortable it was making her (especially when they weren't aware it wasn't real). Through the little snippets she'd learnt about Māori culture through Jordan, she expected to feel quite overwhelmed.

However, that didn't end up being the case (well, by the end, anyways). The second they pulled into the dirt driveway about thirty people reassembling Jordan emerged from the old house. Ali was engulfed in a hug the second her car door opened by a bigger, older woman.

The next hour was a flood of thick Kiwi accents that Ali couldn't always understand (and she grew up in the most Bogan area's of Brisbane). Jordan's grandmother or Kuia had taken a liking to Ali (or so he says) and had flipped through multiple photo albums with the girl ("My Jordan was such a fat little baby—look here," she'd cooed). Ali had snuck many pictures of the more embarrassing photos of him—blackmail for the future. She'd also put the blonde to work in the kitchen; handing her bowls and bowls to mix.

By the time the sun went down, some of Jordan's nieces had kept Ali hostage in one of the spare bedrooms until she'd done all their hair like hers (she'd only braided her hair so it'd not annoy her on the flight over). In the end, she had very cramped fingers (and a longing for her own sister).

It wasn't until close to midnight when she'd finally caught up with the footy player. He'd been standing around the kitchen with his father and grandfather laughing over a beer. His smile widened when he saw her and he extended an arm out for her. Sheepishly, she sunk into the space next to him and he hugged her against his side.

Jordan's grandfather smiled warmly at the pair. "I like this one, you better keep her around," he told his grandson.

Ali felt Jordan's chest vibrate as he laughed and she forced a smile. "Don't jinx it, aye," he joked, sneaking a glance down at Ali, who was already staring up at him.

There was something about seeing people in their 'natural environments' that really made you see them in a different light. The way a man treats the people who created him, reflects on how they're going to treat you. Ali couldn't help but feel warm as she watched him throw the footy around with his little cousins or help his mum carry food to the table. It took a good person to not let the fame, the money or ego take over their life. To stay the boy from the small beachside town—who just happens to be moderately famous. Material things were alright but after that night, Ali decided that no amount of money in the world was ever going to buy the love Jordan had for his family. She knew he'd give it all up, too—for them. She yearned for a love so pure.

💌

(@jordanriki via snapchat stories!)

HERBIE FARNWORTH REPLIED TO YOUR STORY!
We get it. You're a simp 🙄🙄🙄🙄

JORDAN RIKI IS TYPING. . .

🌸 KK SPEAKS!
im sorry for not updating, just had a lot going on / major writers block. i feel like this was a really mid chapter but i didn't have the energy to rewrite it again. (i just looked up and saw a massive spider)

i feel like this whole sections been really filler-y. like so much happened in the first act and now it's gotten really stale which is what i usually hate in books.