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candyshua · 4 years

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When Our Star Burns Out || Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

When you meet a strange boy by the name of Wonwoo through a game of dodgeball, you would have never expected him to change your life the way he did.

Genre: Heavy angst & tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 10,121

Warnings: Death, alcohol, mentions of sex, cursing, & cancer

A/N: i really hope you guys enjoy this. i spent so long writing this and i’m actually quite proud of it!! this is a very long oneshot as you can see, but i really hope you guys like it:))

You and Wonwoo had met in one of the most odd and unconventional ways a pair of human beings could possibly ever meet. You were 17 at the time, in the prime of your rebellious phase. You had always hated the way the world worked, with its cruel and unjust ways. You had worn colorless clothing, dyed your hair red without asking your parents (they made you dye it back to its original color the day after they found out), and got your belly button pierced with a fake ID. It was safe to say that you did things your way, and your way only.

Yet, somehow, you found yourself at your friend’s birthday party in a trampoline park on a Friday night, when you could be drinking or smoking or literally anything else besides that. It was the middle of January, yet the cold weather outside didn’t even compare to the cold words you had told your friend, Jinah, when she invited you.

“What are we, elementary school kids? That sounds fucking lame.” You had hissed. Jinah, however, was used to you and your off-putting ways.

“There will be free food and cake. All you have to do is get me a stupid gift and show up.”

And so you had found yourself at the trampoline park on that fateful January night. It was called Jumping and Jittering, which made you want to projectile vomit all over the neon-lit letters in front of the building. When you had walked inside, you were greeted with bunches of little kids running around and screaming. You instantly regretted showing your face at that stupid party.

The place was huge, though. The ceilings were very high, and its walls were an uncharming orange hue. In the way back, there were many mini trampolines where people could jump freely. There was also an obstacle course, a jousting station where kids fell into pits of plush, and most importantly, the dodgeball section. You were attracted to it immediately, and you somehow found yourself leading Jinah and the attendees of her party to said place.

And then, you saw him. Once you walked into the game of dodgeball, your eyes locked with a rather handsome and pleasant looking boy, who seemed to be around your age. You immediately looked away after you made eye contact, ignoring the sudden jolts of electricity that dashed around your entire body, leaving you with an uneasy warm feeling. His narrow yet alluring dark brown eyes perfectly contrasted with his goofy smile that he flashed to one of his friends. His nose was wide and its bridge wasn’t very prominent, but you found it extremely endearing. You had stopped yourself from further observing him, since you found yourself associating the word “endearing” with a random boy’s nose.

Yet, his lovely tufts of black hair that fell over his forehead just perfectly left your heart beating rapidly.

Before you knew it, the game of dodgeball had begun. You were always quite the athlete, even when you were little, you were always challenging boys who thought they were the best. That athleticism had stuck with you for a very long time.

You found yourself picking up a plush orange ball, and you locked eyes with the stupid, handsome boy and threw it as hard as you could. You didn’t know where this competitive mood had stemmed from, but all you knew was that you wanted to get that boy out.

He had underestimated you and your strength, seeing as he reached out to it with one hand, expecting to catch it and get you out. However, the ball hit him in the arm, and despite the ball’s softness, the impact kind of hurt. The referee (a young man with a very sad look on his face) had monotonously motioned for the boy you had hit to get out. So, the handsome guy gave you a mischievous yet playful glare and trudged off the trampolines and off to the side.

After getting him out many more times, the playfulness in his eyes was replaced with a fiery determination to beat you. Soon, everybody else except you two were out, and the stranger kept giving you a very dirty look. You were sure he was taking this way too seriously, since you were barely breaking a sweat from the amount of physical activity you had endured.

There was one ball left, and it was in his hands. You had nonchalantly jumped in place on one of the trampolines, letting him get in his own head. Jinah and her entourage were cheering for you, but you knew you were going to win with or without them. This handsome boy’s main flaw was that he was far too emotional--you didn’t know his name but you could already tell that.

So, when he threw the ball at you at a seemingly unstoppable pace, you had caught it (you’ll admit it, with some effort) and smiled deviously. Everybody from Jinah’s party started to cheer, and you even found yourself basking in your own victory. The poor boy looked mortified.

After the excitement died down, you stood at a vending machine waiting for the water you just bought to come down. However, it stayed lodged between the glass and the shelf.

“God dammit!” You cursed, helplessly shaking the machine in hopes of getting your water. Sadly, it was to no avail, the water bottle was stubborn and didn’t move an inch.

You were just about to walk away until you locked eyes with the guy you had publicly humiliated. You blinked twice to make sure you weren’t imagining him walking your way.

You didn’t exactly know what to do. To be honest, you didn’t plan on ever interacting with the handsome stranger ever again. However, he intended on interacting with you.

After a very long 15 seconds, he was finally right in front of you.

“You’re really good at dodgeball,” He murmured nervously, “I didn’t expect it.”

“Thanks.”

(You weren’t really the best conversationalist.)

He looked a little discouraged at your bland response, but he wasn��t going to give up.

“My name’s Jeon Wonwoo. What’s yours?”

You blushed a bit, wondering why he was interested in knowing your name. How was such a handsome guy like Wonwoo trying to get to know you?

“My name is Y/L/N Y/N.”

“That’s a cool name.”

“Thanks.”

(You internally cursed at yourself, hating the way you were awkward and shitty at talking to people.)

He was just about to walk away awkwardly until you stopped him. You don’t know what weird force had gotten into you, but you didn’t want your encounter with this very handsome boy to end so quickly.

“Hey, could you help me with this?” You questioned, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. Wonwoo turned around and flashed you his pearly whites, and in that fateful moment, you knew that you wanted him in your life. His beautiful smile made you feel things you had never felt before. You didn’t exactly know why this boy was making you feel like your entire body was melting from his warmth. All you knew was that he was very cute, and he had a nice smile.

He walked past you and shook the vending machine once, and then plop. The water bottle fell and you gave Wonwoo a very shy grin.

“Thank you...Wonwoo.”

“No problem, Y/N.”

After a very anticipant silence, Wonwoo spoke up.

“Can I um...get your number?”

Oh thank God, you thought, I thought I was going to be the one to ask.

“Yeah, of course.” You responded a little too quickly.

Was that too eager? Was Wonwoo already turned off? Did he now want nothing to do with you?

That was kind of your specialty--making people want to have absolutely nothing to do with you.

Yet, Wonwoo didn’t budge. In fact, he found your eagerness quite relieving. He had thought the attraction was one-sided.

(It wasn’t.)

You were freaking out, to say the least. It was the end of January, and you thought you were going to die of excitement and nervousness.

You and Wonwoo had been texting non-stop for the past few weeks, and he finally mustered up the courage to ask you on a date. He asked you to go see a horror movie with him, to which you happily obliged. You loved horror movies.

You didn’t exactly know what to wear, so you stuck with a maroon sweater and a regular pair of blue denim jeans. You put on a nice pair of converse, not wanting to try too hard. Your hair was stylishly let down as well.

Once you heard the honking of a car from outside your house, you bid your parents farewell and eagerly ran out the door. You had learned Wonwoo was only a year older than you. He was in his first year of university and he absolutely adored it--he majored in film. His dream was to be an amazing filmmaker, which you had found extremely endearing.

Once Wonwoo had laid his eyes on you, his mouth had fallen slightly agape. He thought your simple outfit complimented your entire demeanor perfectly. You looked angelic amid the cold winter night. Your cheeks and the tip of your nose were red, which made Wonwoo’s insides feel odd. There was no other way to put it, he didn’t feel normal--he felt weird and unusual. But, it wasn’t a bad kind of weird.

After the movie ended, Wonwoo had learned that you--like him--could handle horror movies quite well. He had found you incredibly cool, and he thought your charisma multiplied exponentially each time he learned something new about you.

Finally, you had arrived back to Wonwoo’s car after running to it in the freezing cold. The city lights of Seoul were seen in the distance, but you had wished you could’ve seen the stars instead.

“I love stars.” You blurted while curled up in a ball in the passenger seat of his car. He chuckled at your adorable nature and put his jacket on you like a blanket. You ignored the quickening pace of your heart and the heat rising to your cheeks despite the ungodly cold weather.

“Why?” Wonwoo probed, eyeing you shyly. This was new, exciting, yet comforting. You were loving every second of whatever this was. Dating? Friendship? Whatever it was, you didn’t want it to stop. Ever.

“Well, I mean, they’re pretty far away, right?”

“Right.”

(Wonwoo tried to stifle a smile that broke out since you were so goddamn adorable, but he failed miserably.)

“Yet, we’re still seeing their light. Even if they’re many light-years away, their light still got to us. Hell, the star could’ve even burned out by now--but we still got to see them.”

You had looked at Wonwoo shyly, expecting him to laugh at you and your stupid interests.

Instead, however, you were pleasantly surprised.

“That is quite a nice way to look at it. It makes me...feel at ease. Like I know I’ll always have the stars to depend on.”

Wonwoo’s words had made you want to kiss him right then and there. However, your words were quicker than your actions (or lips).

“Yes! Thank you, god! Everybody always calls me stupid for thinking like that...Or annoying. Or both!” You joyously shouted, making Wonwoo’s smile widen even more.

“You’re cute.” Wonwoo blurted, which made you freeze up. Despite the heat you were receiving from Wonwoo’s jacket and your own clothing, you felt oddly chilly.

Yet, it was a good kind of chilly. You liked it a lot.

“So are you.” You had retorted, wondering where the bravery to flirt came from.

Suddenly, you had felt infinitely grateful to Jinah and to the fact that you attended her stupid birthday party. You also felt grateful to your athleticism, your competitive nature, and of course, to Jeon Wonwoo.

The beautiful winds of spring had kissed your skin just right. You walked through the fair, hand-in-hand with Wonwoo. To say that you were at ease would be an understatement--you felt so much more than that. Despite having just gotten off an extremely scary ride, you were content and tranquility flowed throughout your veins.

Wonwoo, however, was still shaken up from that rollercoaster. You led the both of you to a table by the concessions and made Wonwoo sit down.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, worry prominent in your voice. Wonwoo then felt his heart ache dramatically, and he had come to the realization that he hated seeing you hurt. He could hear the pain laced into your voice, and he knew that he was the cause of it. It felt absolutely awful.

You then sat down next to Wonwoo and took his hands in yours. “You can tell me anything, you know…”

With those words, Wonwoo had found himself surprisingly opening up to you. You two had been dating for about three months now, yet Wonwoo could be very stoic at times. You had wanted to learn more about your boyfriend, but he had trouble trusting people.

However, you were different. Ever since the night of your first date, he knew he could trust you. He was just scared of opening up and then losing you. The last thing in the world he wanted was to lose you.

So, you had learned about Wonwoo’s fear of rollercoasters, which stemmed from the problems he had with his parents.

His parents didn’t support him or any of his artistic endeavors. They had wanted him to be a doctor, since he had a mighty sharp brain that could do something more “productive” than making films. However, Wonwoo rebelled, saying that being a doctor just wasn’t his dream. His parents were never supportive.

He recalled one time in his early childhood where he went on a rollercoaster, but his parents had refused to go with him. And, in that moment, 8-year-old Wonwoo had felt terribly alone. That feeling of loneliness stuck with him until the day he moved out of his childhood home.

“I know it seems trivial,” Wonwoo began after explaining himself, “but it’s me. It’s why I hold you so close, it’s because you listen. You support me, and I’ve never really had that before.”

Your eyes bored into Wonwoo’s dark irises with intensity. Before the rational and cowardly side of you could deny, you had pressed your lips against his with fervor and love.

Love.

You had loved Wonwoo, to the point where he was always in the back of your mind. Little things like the smell of mint or horror movies would make you think of him. Whenever he was the center of your attention, your insides pooled with warmth. He made you feel human, like you could finally breathe again.

You had hated the world, it was horrible and cruel. People were worse. However, whenever you were with Wonwoo, you forgot about the terrors of the world and your hatred towards people.

You finally pulled away and gave him a playful stare.

“Sorry.” You giggled.

“It’s okay.” Wonwoo gave you a lazy smirk.

You gave him one last peck on the lips, and then backed up on the bench you were both sitting on. The sky was blue and cloudless. There were many people all walking in different directions around the two of you. Children’s laughter could be heard among the bustle of life, yet all you could focus on was the man in front of you. You wanted to bask in the moment and observe every little detail of the atmosphere, including Wonwoo’s black skinny jeans and simple white t-shirt along with your red blouse and black leggings. It was your first kiss with Wonwoo (or with anyone for that matter) and you didn’t want to forget it,

“I hate everything--well, I used to.” You blurted.

Wonwoo then gave you a puzzled look.

“Why?”

You sighed while you shifted nervously in your seat, and then you finally decided to open up to him--he had just done the same to you. It felt right.

“When I was five, I was put into foster care. My mother could no longer take care of me, despite not having any financial troubles. To sum it up, I was a burden. And, it hurt--a lot.

“Yet, after three years of being in foster care, my new parents had found me. They took me in and, for a short period of time, I felt like I was theirs. I didn’t feel like an abandoned piece of trash.

“Sadly, I had to start my new school. The kids there were absolutely horrible to me, they would steal from me and call me names. I was nine. But, I grew up and I learned how to stand up for myself. It led me to be friends with Jinah, and then I met you.”

Wonwoo stared at you with his big, innocent eyes. His respect for you had just been multiplied by a thousand. He kissed you again (mainly because he wanted to initiate at least one kiss), and then he hugged you tightly, as if he never wanted to let go.

(You didn’t want him to.)

“What do you want to do with your life, Y/N?” Wonwoo asked you while the two of you stared at the stars on a summer evening. The sudden question had startled you.

“Well, damn, I don’t know.”

Wonwoo scoffed and turned on his side so he could look at you. You glanced at him very briefly, staying on your back. You were enjoying that particular date, since Wonwoo had taken you to the countryside so you two could look at the stars without them being overshadowed by the city lights. You had told your parents you were going on a drive with Jinah, but they saw right through your lie.

However, they didn’t call you out on it. They saw the way your lips slightly curled upwards when you thought of what you were about to do. They knew you loved him.

You let yourself bask in the silence and contemplated Wonwoo’s million-dollar-question. You hadn’t really figured that out yet. You were an exemplary student, and all of the colleges you had applied to accepted you. However, you didn’t exactly know what you wanted your career to be.

“Well?” Wonwoo cooed, giving you a small smile.

“Um…”

You were silent for a bit--until it hit you.

“Oh! I know!”

Wonwoo glared at you.

“How about you tell me?” He sarcastically exaggerated. He couldn’t contain his smile, though. You were just too damn cute.

“I want to be a writer.”

Wonwoo grinned widely.

“We have similar interests, don’t we?”

You shrugged. You tore your gaze from the sky to look at Wonwoo again.

“I just have a lot of ideas. I think I could write them down, and then make them into a story. I don’t really know, to be honest. I’m just kind of winging it.”

Wonwoo laughed at that. You playfully glared at him and stuck out your tongue. After Wonwoo’s eyes averted from your gaze and went back to look at the stars, you felt the feeling of happiness melt into your blood.

You knew you would remember that moment for the rest of your life. And, when you would get sad, you would force yourself to think about it. You would force yourself to think about Wonwoo’s beautiful smile, and his smooth black hair, along with his lanky limbs yet well-built body.

“Thank you, Wonwoo.” You murmured shyly.

“For what?”

“For playing dodgeball that one stupid night.”

It was an odd feeling--knowing that the foundation of your relationship was some stupid game of dodgeball. It was also odd to think about how long ago that night in January felt, when it really was only seven months ago.

Wonwoo smirked and then scooted over to you, and planted a wet kiss right on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, wanting him to know that he made you happy--that he made you smile.

Wonwoo had driven you two back to the motel you were staying at for the night. And then the kisses you two shared turned into something more serious, more fervent. Before you knew it, your clothes were off, and then Wonwoo was inside of you, and then you were no longer a virgin.

Once you two were finished, he cleaned you up and then snuggled up next to you, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“I love you.” You confessed with a quiet voice.

“Finally.” Wonwoo laughed.

“What?”

“Finally. It was about time one of us said it. I love you too, Y/N.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

You fell asleep in each other’s arms that night, knowing nothing but your love for one another.

You had started Seoul University. It was a huge change, to say the least. Your classes were stressful, pain-inducing, and time-consuming. However, you were skating by in terms of grades--your GPA was very high and your grades were amazing.

One day, your creative writing professor had called you to meet him right after class. Your mind automatically went to the worst possible reasons as to why he wanted to meet with you. Were you in trouble? Did you do bad on an essay? Oh god, was he going to seduce you?

“Hi, Professor.” You nervously greeted while avoiding his gaze.

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. It’s quite the contrary, actually.” He must have sensed your apprehension. Were you really that easy to read?

You finally made eye contact with him. You cocked your head to the side, as if your curiosity was a sign for him to continue.

“Your latest story was absolutely amazing, so I submitted it to some publishers in New York I’m friends with, and they absolutely loved it.”

Oh god.

“And you said you speak English, right?”

You nodded slowly. You swore your heart was in your throat.

“Well, they want you to go to New York for a year and work under them. They see potential in your work, Y/N. As a matter of fact, a lot of people do. I recommend that you do it, it’s a huge publishing company and they could really get your name well known. Plus, it’s kind of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

You didn’t know how to react. Were you supposed to be happy? Excited? Why was your first thought about Wonwoo?

“I’ll think about it.” You sighed, trying to fight the sudden solemn mood you were put in. This was supposed to be great news, but why did it feel like you were losing?

You contemplated not telling Wonwoo at all, since you were almost certain that you were going to turn the offer down. But, Wonwoo could read you like a book, so when he came to pick you up after your literature class, he knew something was wrong. You weren’t your usual talkative and passionate self, you seemed hollow.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Wonwoo questioned with concern laced in his voice. You had sucked in an uneasy and sharp breath, wondering if it was even worth telling him.

“I got an offer.”

“Elaborate.” “Okay, so, I got an offer to work under these really famous publishers. They read a short story of mine and they want to see more of me.”

Wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows intently and cocked his head to the side.

“And this is bad because?”

“Because I’d have to go to New York City for a year.”

Silence.

Wonwoo’s lips pressed into a firm line after your soul-crushing words. Wonwoo knew you were talented and extremely intelligent.

“I don’t think I’m gonna take it, though.”

Wonwoo gave you a look that somewhat resembled anger. He was mightily conflicted.

“Do it.” He surprised himself when he said that.

Wonwoo’s words had hit you like a punch in the gut. Why was he encouraging you? Did he want you out of his life?

“But I--”

“Do it, Y/N. Don’t stay for me, please. This isn’t what you want--you don’t want to turn down amazing opportunities for me. You don’t want a simple life, do you?”

He waited for you to answer. He then gave you a very stern look, and you were coaxed into answering.

“No, I don’t.”

You didn’t, that was true. You couldn’t possibly imagine settling down for a mundane and safe life. You wanted excitement, you didn’t want to work in a job and have to climb the corporate ladder. No, you wanted to follow your dreams.

“Exactly. I love you, Y/N. And, since I love you, I’m not going to stop you. This is your dream.”

You knew he was right. You knew that this was your dream, and you shouldn’t be putting it on hold for a man. Despite your earth-shattering love for Wonwoo, you couldn’t let that get in the way of your dreams.

“I’ll be gone for a year--at least. That means…”

You couldn’t even bear to finish the sentence. You felt a lump in your throat start to form, and then the tears started to fall effortlessly. You were a sobbing mess, but Wonwoo held you and calmed you down, repeatedly saying “I love you” and “it’s okay”.

Wonwoo’s words had always been able to calm you down, but in that moment, his words only made your heartache worsen.

You broke up with Wonwoo the night before you left. The both of you knew it was coming, the inevitability of the entire situation was unstoppable.

You had showed up in front of Wonwoo’s house at around 11 PM, waiting for him to come down right after you called him. The look in his eyes said that he knew, and that it was okay.

“Hi.” You managed to muster. Your voice had already cracked from the oncoming onslaught of tears.

“Hey.” Wonwoo’s eyes were warm, and he gave you a sad smile. He took a step closer to you and kissed you on the lips softly, as if it was his way of saying goodbye.

“I love you, um, a lot.”

“I know.”

“You know if you tell me not to go, I won’t. I’ll stay here with you.”

You knew you had wanted to go, but Wonwoo had this insurmountable power over you. His opinion mattered so goddamn much, and if he wanted you to do (or not do) something, he just had to say the word.

“I’m not a selfish person, Y/N. You know that.”

You were already breaking down. Wonwoo’s bottom lip was quivering, and you could tell he was trying to keep it all together for you.

“You can cry, you know.” You forlornly chuckled. He returned the sad laughter, and soon he started to sob just like you.

You took a step closer to him and tried to take in everything about that night. The smattering of stars in the sky, the way Wonwoo’s porch light was flickering, and the way your heart was breaking.

“I love you.” Wonwoo whispered, his voice breaking. You let yourself soak in those three words for a bit.

Long distance could never work. The difference between timezones, the loneliness, just everything about it was so off-putting. So, that was off the table.

And, despite your love being so strong and real, it couldn’t change the way reality worked. And, the reality of everything was that this was most likely the end. You were both young and in love, but there was no realism in the idea of staying together forever.

You then looked at Wonwoo’s chocolate orbs and took in a deep breath.

“Let’s break up.”

All Wonwoo could do was nod and give you the world’s saddest smile. You finally maneuvered your way out of his touch and gave him one last wave goodbye, almost as to say “I’ll never forget you”.

How could you ever forget Jeon Wonwoo?

You were absolutely exhausted. You were about to drown in fatigue until your friend, Cynthia, came and shook you awake.

“It’s time to go home. Need a ride?” She offered, but you shook your head tiredly.

“No thanks, my boyfriend is gonna pick me up. Thanks, though.”

Finally, your boyfriend Joshua arrived in his lovely car. You trudged to the vehicle and you forced yourself to keep your eyes open. You finally opened the car door and gave him a lazy kiss before shutting it.

“Tired?” Joshua asked, amusement prominent in his tone.

“Joshua Hong, I really hope you’re not entertaining yourself with my pain right now.” You half-jokingly hissed, which just led to Joshua chuckling quietly.

“Where to?”

“Your apartment. No sex, though--too tired.”

“Understood.”

You laid in Joshua’s bed and scrolled through your phone mindlessly. You heard the shower running, but you were just too tired to join him.

Suddenly, while scrolling through Instagram, you had gotten a follow request. Ever since you permanently moved to New York, you had gotten a new Instagram account, wanting to snip the roots of your old life.

You had went to New York for a year, went back to Seoul and graduated, and then you moved back after you fell in love with the city. It had been two years since your graduation, and it was safe to say things were looking up for you career wise. At the promising age of 24, it felt like there was nothing you couldn’t do.

But then your jolly mood had dropped completely once you saw Jeon Wonwoo’s name flash on your screen. He had found your Instagram.

Despite only seeing his name, you found your heart beating slightly more rapid than its usual pace.

Out of instinct, you stalked his account (which was public) before you accepted his request. You noticed how there was a huge absence of any females in his post, just Wonwoo and his friends from back home. He had no bio, and his profile picture was a picture of the night sky with lots of stars.

It was a different account than the one he had when you two were younger. However, it still screamed Wonwoo. Although you were only seeing what he wanted the world to see, you felt as if he didn’t change at all.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you accepted his follow request. What was the worst that could happen?

You had moved on. Wonwoo was your first love, but the blazing days of your youth were over. Now, you were an adult. You were more mature and you had a steady yet exciting job. Your boyfriend of two years loved you dearly.

You felt safe. You felt secure.

So, letting Wonwoo follow your Instagram account wouldn’t do any harm whatsoever. None at all.

You woke up to an incessant ringing. You groaned out of reaction, blindly reaching for your phone.

“God, why is your alarm on? It’s Saturday.” Joshua grumbled with his raspy morning voice.

“I turned my alarm off. Someone’s calling me.”

You then look at the caller ID, which read “Dad”. Why was he calling you at such an odd time?

You pressed the green “answer” button and put the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, you need to come back home. Your mother is sick.”

It was 4 in the morning, and you were desperately hailing a taxi. You finally succeeded, and you told the driver your home address after he finished boarding your luggage. Despite Korean being your first language, it felt foreign on your tongue.

Once you arrived home, you paid the man and brought your luggage inside with the help of your father. The reunion was bleak and filled with sorrow. Your father’s hopeless demeanor said it all.

Breaking up with Joshua had given you major deja vu. You were the one leaving, yet again. But, Joshua was an incredible and understanding man, so there were no hard feelings. It hurt beyond belief to leave him and New York, but you weren’t going to stay there and leave your parents all by themselves. You may have been selfish at times, but when people truly needed you, you were there for them.

Once the two of you finished unpacking your luggage, your father drove you to the hospital. It had been a week since your father had called you, but unpacking everything and breaking up with your boyfriend weren’t exactly speedy processes.

The car ride was deadly silent, as if saying anything would make things worse.

Apparently, your mother had been having horrible migraines, to the point where she could barely see. So, your father took her to the doctor’s one day, and they found it she had a brain tumor.

It was operable, but the surgery was extremely risky, with a ten percent success rate. The reality of the situation didn’t really sink in until you saw your mother’s frail body laying down on a hospital bed. Your eyes immediately were filled to the brim with tears at the sight of her.

“Hi Mom.” You croaked, trying not to let her see you cry.

“Y/N...I missed you.”

You stifled an oncoming sob.

“I missed you too.” You wallowed in the silence. Oh god, it all felt so real--too real. Soon, the regrets started to flood into you, attacking you like a tidal wave.

You would call your mother once a week, and they would last from ten to fifteen minutes. She would want to talk more, but you were just so damn busy.

You watched your mother intently. Her eyes were closed and her chest was barely rising with each breath. You contained yourself from downright sobbing.

Suddenly, you heard the door creak open. You turned your head and expected to finally meet one of the doctors, but you were greeted with someone you had never expected to see in person ever again.

Jeon Wonwoo.

“Wonwoo…” Your mother mumbled after opening her eyes, giving him a weak smile. Your mouth fell agape at the sight of him. He had...grown up. His hair was still the same black color, but it was now curly and more voluminous. He had become much more muscular and built--he wasn’t the same lanky and scrawny boy you had remembered. His eyes were no longer doe-like, they seemed sage and mature.

He was expecting to see you, but you still managed to catch him off guard. He gave you a weak smile and handed you a coffee, which you took with hesitation.

“Hi, Wonwoo.”

He smiled. Oh god, that damn smile. Suddenly, you were seventeen again, and the center of your universe was Jeon Wonwoo.

It had barely been two minutes of reuniting with him, yet you already felt like you were about to implode from warmth. Did meeting exes always feel this way? Like the feelings were still somewhere in the air, lingering?

“Hi, Y/N.”

His voice sounded the same. It was still deep, smooth, and song-like. You realized you didn’t need the coffee anymore, you were already wide-awake.

You had learned that Wonwoo had been taking care of your mother alongside your father while you were gone. That added to the insurmountable guilt you felt.

You had also learned that Wonwoo was working on a film, to which you were pleasantly surprised.

The two of you sat on your front lawn and chattered over some beer and finger-foods. The moon hung low in the sky, and the late-summer wind felt nice against your skin. You found yourself looking at the stars, just like that one night with Wonwoo.

“So, Y/N, how have you been?”

Wonwoo had tried to act as nonchalant as possible. He didn’t want you to know that he was still madly in love with you.

“Um, good, I guess. My job was going really well...I managed to transfer to one of their offices in Korea, so that’s a relief.”

Wonwoo nodded, listening intently.

“I um, had a boyfriend.” You saw his content eyes waver a bit.

Ouch.

Wonwoo tried to hide his hurt with a surprised, fabricated grin.

“Obviously, it didn’t work out. He was Korean, but he didn’t want to come back to Korea with me. So, um...we ended it.”

Wonwoo had downed another beer by then. You gave him an empty chuckle and followed in suit.

After a few more drinks, everything else was a blur. Suddenly, you and Wonwoo were kissing, taking each other’s clothes off, and then sleeping side-by-side, holding each other like nothing had changed.

You awoke with a killer headache. You had reached to your nightstand to grab some Advil, but you were bound to Wonwoo. His long and muscular arms were snaked around your waist, and he was holding onto you for dear life.

And then the memories of last night came flooding into your mind, each memory more painful than the last.

Yet, being in Wonwoo’s arms just felt so natural, like you were supposed to be there. With him.

Maybe you were supposed to be with him all along.

“Wonwoo, get up.” You croaked, and you heard him mumble a noise of disapproval.

“Let’s stay like this for a bit more, please.”

You sighed.

“Okay.”

The next day, you avoided Wonwoo like the plague. He texted you multiple times, along with a few missed calls. You were too preoccupied with taking care of your mother anyway.

You had caught up with your mother, and she learned much more about Joshua than you would let her know over the phone. You noticed the way her smile didn’t reach her eyes when you talked about him.

Yet, when Wonwoo walked into the room, the spark in her eyes was back.

“Hey Mrs. Y/L/N, I brought you some bread from the bakery you like.” Wonwoo smiled, holding up a brown paper bag. Once he came over to the both of you and handed your mother the bag, he motioned for you to meet him outside of the room.

You didn’t want to talk to him about what had happened, that was an undeniable fact. You didn’t want to come to terms with your underlying feelings, because you were so scared. You were scared of opening up to Wonwoo again, you were scared because Wonwoo made you feel like you were young and reckless again.

He had this placid power over you, and it never truly died down over the years of being without him. You may have suppressed it to the back of your mind, but the moment your life got entangled with Wonwoo’s again, you were vulnerable.

Being with Wonwoo again after all of those years made you feel like Joshua never existed. Like you never moved to New York, like you two had never broken up. Why was your love for him so unmatched? Why couldn’t you move on?

You could forget about Wonwoo for a bit, but the moment you would go face-to-face with the man, everything came back. So, no, you didn’t want to meet Wonwoo outside of the room.

Yet, you still did. And you let him take your hand in his and walk you outside, to the courtyard. You let him look at you like he still loved you, and you let yourself return his love-filled gaze.

He sat you down on a bench. The sky was gray and cloudy that day, and the weatherman said it was going to rain. The sun was hidden behind the fluffy clouds, but you still felt warm when Wonwoo held your hand in his.

Despite the fact that there were many people walking around the yard, when Wonwoo’s eyes met yours, you felt as if the two of you were alone. As if it were you and him against the world.

“Hi.” Wonwoo stalled.

“Hi.”

“Should I just get straight to the point?”

You nodded.

“I...um...I never forgot about you. I never truly moved on. I dated girls here and there, but it just wasn’t the same.”

You gulped, feeling a solemn pressure in your chest.

“And, um...I still love you. A lot. And seeing your instagram feed being filled with you and that guy Joshua, it hurt. And I regret drinking with you and sleeping with you, not because it was you, but because I didn’t want to restart things this way.”

You tried to look at anything else besides Wonwoo’s intense gaze. You tried to look at an old lady getting wheeled around, you tried to look at a group of kids playing tag, but you just couldn’t.

Your eyes met Wonwoo’s. You realized that you never felt that level of intensity with Joshua, and it was quite a cryptic epiphany.

All of those years you had spent in New York, you were just pretending to be over Wonwoo. You never were.

Yet, you felt selfish. How dare you endeavor in romance while your mother was dying?

“I can’t.” You sighed, finally tearing your eyes away from Wonwoo. He sucked in a sharp breath, as if he were just cut by a knife. You had debated not explaining to him, but you thought Wonwoo had deserved that much.

“I just can’t do this right now. Not with my sick mom, Wonwoo. I can’t let anything distract me from her right now, I’m sorry.”

Wonwoo shook his head and clenched his jaw.

“This is your problem, Y/N. You always think you’re the problem. Do you wanna know what your mother told me before you came back?”

Silence followed his question. Yes, you wanted to know--of course you did.

“She said that she wanted me to man up and ask you out again. She wants me to marry you, Y/N. Why else would she let me stay by her side all this time? Because she didn’t want me to be in her life?”

Your mom was sneaky, you had to admit. She had always loved Wonwoo.

She loved him because he made you happy.

“Okay.” You whispered. Wonwoo quirked an eyebrow.

“What?”

“I said ‘okay’. Let’s try this thing again.”

Your mother’s funeral was a blur. All you could remember was the bleak colors and Wonwoo’s tight grip on your hand. All you could feel was agonizing, soul-crushing pain. Pain ate at you like a vulture eatings its dead prey, you were a breeding ground for it. After all of the arrangements were done, you had sat in bed for a week, only getting up to go to the bathroom. Wonwoo had brought you food to eat three times a day, but you would barely touch it. All you could think about was the fact that your mother was dead.

She had died about two months after you got home. Your family had decided against the surgery, since it could’ve killed her even sooner. So, she lived out her last two months diligently. She didn’t spend them in a hospital bed, she spent them with her family.

The night she died was also a blur. You had rushed her to the hospital after you came home from work one day and found her collapsed on the ground. There wasn’t much the doctors could do, or at least that was what they said.

And, in that moment, you felt completely and utterly powerless.

Your father was avoiding his emotions, unlike you. You were battling them head on, and you were losing miserably.

Your father would go out to drink at least three to four times a week, and he would come home absolutely shit-faced.

Wonwoo had stayed strong, despite the pain that encapsulated his heart. He would cry silently, when no one else could see. He needed to be strong for you and your father, since the both of you had nobody else.

You returned to work a month after she died, greeting your coworkers emptily. You sat down and reviewed stories that were in the process of getting published, no longer feeling that spark of passion you had once felt while working. Everything was bleak, including you.

Three months after the death of your mother, Wonwoo was lying in bed beside you one night, listening to your steady breathing. “Y/N,” He began, “are you awake?”

“Yes.” You croaked.

“Can I tell you something that might make you mad?”

You didn’t have the energy to object.

“You need to get back to the world of the living now, Y/N.”

At this, you turned around to face him.

“What?”

“You need to come back to life. You’ve been a zombie these past few months, but it’s not what your mother would’ve wanted.”

You felt yourself grow cold at Wonwoo’s truthful words. The pain you were experiencing had emotionally crippled you, and you had given up on about everything. Time had meshed into one big blur, and your memory was hazy; you could barely remember what you had for dinner last night. You started to cry into the crook of Wonwoo’s neck while he hugged you tightly.

“It’s s-so r-real Wonwoo. It’s t-too real.” You cried as he rubbed your back with his warm hands. The ache in your heart had left you breathless. You just missed your mother so much, the longing to see her absolutely consumed you.

“I know...You just need to start living again, Y/N. For her.”

You looked up into Wonwoo’s passionate eyes. You nodded weakly and pursed your lips together in an attempt to halt your sobs.

You thought of your mother who had seen potential in you when nobody else did. When she brought you home with her, she had provided you with your first true family. She wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you wallow in your own self-pity like this.

After a few moments of silence, you bid Wonwoo good night and fell asleep in his arms. You had a hazy dream, all you could muster from it was that it was about your mother.

Slowly, you had started to rebuild your life, along with your father. Every day was painful and a struggle, but you knew your mother would have wanted you to move on. You could do this, you knew you could.

It had been a year since your mother’s passing. Despite the vacancy she left in your life, you no longer felt hollow. And, whenever you thought of a nice memory you had of her, you would smile instead of breaking down. You were getting there.

You couldn’t see anything, the only thing guiding you was Wonwoo’s hand and his voice. “To the right!” He ordered, but you had purposefully went to the left just to spite him. Despite being slightly ticked off at your stubborn nature, he laughed softly.

“Ew, why are your hands so sweaty?” You chuckled, making Wonwoo’s blood run cold.

He was nervous, that’s why! But, he didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

“I dunno.” He coolly responded. You shrugged it off and then started to focus on the task at hand. Where was this stupid man leading you to? And why were you blindfolded?

You suddenly felt fresh air kiss your skin. “Are we outside?”

“Shut up and let me do this?”

“Do what?”

Wonwoo didn’t respond.

You were sure of the fact that you were outside since you felt wisps of grass caress your ankles. It was a lovely July evening, over two years since the death of your mother.

The two of you had come to a sudden halt. You were both staying at a hotel for a weekend, since Wonwoo had suggested you two go on a “getaway”. You happily obliged, not suspecting much from it.

You felt Wonwoo untie the bandana around your eyes. Suddenly, a whole new world had opened up in front of you. There was an abundance of stars in the night sky, and there was a trail of rose petals leading up to the stairs of a gazebo. Wonwoo held your hand and led you down the path as shock filled you up and rattled your bones.

Before you could react to what was about to happen, Wonwoo went down on one knee and pulled out a lovely and very expensive-looking ring.

“Hi.” He laughed with an airy sound.

“H-hi.” You responded, already feeling the urge to cry.

“So, um, you probably have already figured out what I’m about to do. So, let me just say one thing: thank you. Thank you for coming into my life twice, thank you for always being a reason for me to smile. Thank you for teaching me about life and stars. Thank you for being my light.

“I was lonely, once. I had nobody to fall back on. But, on that night when you told me your thoughts on stars, my entire life changed. And, then I realized something--you’re the light a star gives off. You make things brighter, no matter where you go. Your light has reached me, Y/N.

“I think I knew I was in love with you ever since our first date. You had me absolutely smitten. And I-I just fell. Hard. When I lost you the first time, I was heartbroken. Yet, it’s almost like we’re destined to be together, since we found our way back to each other.

“So, I ask you this because I went to spend the rest of my life with you. Y/L/N Y/N, will you marry me?”

At this point you were sobbing uncontrollably. You managed to muster a weak “yes”, but your nodding head was what got the memo across. Wonwoo smiled brightly, his eyes twinkling more than the stars up in the sky.

You held your hand out and he slid the ring on your finger, your heart racing when he touched you, just like the first time.

“I-I love y-you.” You managed to muster, still crying tears of absolute blissful joy.

“I love you too.”

Despite not having financial troubles, the two of you settled for a small and inexpensive wedding. You barely remember anything before the wedding that day because you were so damn nervous. However, you remembered the ceremony just fine.

Your dress was an elegant, typical white wedding dress. Your veil flowed in a lovely manner, and your dress hugged your body just right.

You were 28 years old at the time, and it was an odd feeling to look back on your life before you met Wonwoo. You never wanted to get married, you simply had no interest in romance. Yet, teenage Wonwoo had swept you off your feet that one January evening, and the rest was very complicated history.

The wedding music began to play, and you were just outside the entrance that led to where the love of your life stood. The only thing that was in your way was the walk to him, which was much scarier than people played it out to be. You took in a shaky deep breath and showed your face.

Every head in the hall turned towards you. Your father walked you down with joyful tears in his eyes. It would’ve been amazing if your mother could have made it, but you knew she was watching down on you.

You knew she was proud of you.

After the long walk, you walked up the velvet-covered steps to where Jeon Wonwoo stood. He looked dashing in his standard black-and-white tuxedo. He thought you looked absolutely gorgeous, and he had to contain himself from crying.

Soon, the priest had started his speech. You tuned most of it out and just lovingly stared into Wonwoo’s eyes.

You mouthed I love you and he mouthed love you too. And soon, Wonwoo’s lips were on yours the moment after the priest had said he could kiss you, and you were filled with nothing but pure happiness.

A year had passed just like that. Both of you were very successful in your careers, but you still made time for one another.

That changed after your first wedding anniversary. Wonwoo had become busier and busier, to the point where he was stressed beyond belief. He would go to bed later than you and be out of the bed before you woke up.

“I’m working with a really famous actor,” He would say, “I’m just a bit stressed.”

Suddenly, the mood around the house was solemn and dreadful. You couldn’t remember the last time Wonwoo had told you he loved you, and vice versa.

Wonwoo was coming home late, yet he always had time to update his social media and hang out with his friends. You thought he was just deliberately choosing to not spend his free time with you.

What had happened?

Your initial reaction was self-indulgent. It must have had something to do with you--it was your fault somehow. Yet, when you’d try to get him to go on dates with you just like you used to, he would decline and use the excuse “I’m just so tired”.

You felt used. You were suffering in silence, and no matter how hard you tried to mend your relationship, Wonwoo put in no effort.

One night, you purposely stayed up later so you’d catch Wonwoo before you went to bed. You sat on the couch mindlessly watching TV, waiting for your husband to come home.

When he did, his eyes were bloodshot and his entire demeanor screamed “stress”. You immediately grew timid at the sight of him.

“Hey, Wonwoo.” You greeted when he took his shoes off and hung up his coat. He gave you a weak smile and walked right by you.

You had felt useless; it was almost as if Wonwoo didn’t need you anymore.

What if he had ran out of love for you? The sheer thought made you sick to your stomach. Despite his cold and distant attitude, you were still madly in love with Wonwoo, to the point where it hurt. Your love had felt unrequited all of a sudden, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself, or with him.

“Wonwoo.” You called out, but he kept walking. He must’ve not heard you.

“Wonwoo.” You called out again, this time a bit louder. He stopped dead in his tracks and swiftly turned around. He glared at you with nothing but pure ice in his eyes, and you knew you had fucked up.

“For fuck’s sake, what? Can’t you see I’m a bit stressed here? I would really fucking appreciate it if you weren’t so god damn incessant.”

You pursed your lips together and shut your eyes tightly. You didn’t want him to see you cry (since he was already so stressed), but you just couldn’t hold back the onslaught of tears. His icy words had sliced you open like a sword. You hissed at the unbearable pain you were feeling.

Wonwoo’s expression immediately softened. He ran over to you, but you held a hand as a signal for him to stop when he came near you. You couldn’t live like this anymore.

“I’m done.” You lamented, running past him to go to your room. He followed you like a lost puppy, whimpering empty apologies. You had grabbed a suitcase and went to your dresser, packing everything you owned up in a dramatic and emotional fashion.

“Please, Y/N, don’t leave me. Please…” Wonwoo sobbed, realizing his grave mistakes.

“I’m just gonna go stay at my Dad’s for a bit, okay? So you can figure out whatever the hell you need to, without hurting me.” You hissed. Wonwoo repeatedly shook his head, begging for you to stay. None of this felt real--the absolute pain you were feeling made you crumble. You felt pathetic, like the pain you were experiencing was unprecedented. Like you should give in to Wonwoo and apologize for standing your ground.

Despite the days you’d spent in agony due to this man, there was no denying that you were still madly in love with him. You didn’t want to give up on him, but he left you no choice.

You had to respect yourself.

Once you had finished packing enough clothes that would last you a week, you trudged to the front door, suitcase in hand. Wonwoo followed you pathetically.

You were just about to walk out the door without saying a word, but your heart took over your head for just about a millisecond.

“I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

Then you shut the door behind you, and all Wonwoo could hear was your car driving away and his heart breaking.

A week had passed since you had temporarily moved in with your father. You lay in bed after work that night, staring at the ceiling. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying, like they had been the past week.

You turned over to face your nightstand, where a picture of you and Wonwoo at the fair stood in a frame. That was the day of your first kiss.

You remembered that day like it was yesterday, since it was the day you had learned the both of you trusted each other. Things back then were so new and exciting. What had changed?

Were you really going to give up on Wonwoo? Is that what was truly best for you?

No, it wasn’t. Your heart started to beat rapidly, and then you jumped up out of bed and put an old pair of sneakers on. You then ran to your car, hopping in the driver’s seat.

Shit, it was low on gas.

Your dad was out for the night, so he took his car with him. You murmured a string of curses and then called a taxi. You waited impatiently for the car to arrive, your leg bouncing with nerves that made you want to hunch over and vomit.

The taxi finally arrived after what seemed like forever. You ran into the car and frantically told the poor driver the address of your home, the one you shared with Wonwoo. The love of your life.

He finally pulled up to your house, and you gave him a wad of cash that was way too much, and you ordered him to “keep the change”.

You then ran up to the front door, your hands shaking while you tried to input the key to unlock the door. Before you could succeed, Wonwoo opened the door.

His gaze could’ve drilled a hole in your head. You then began to smile, and you jumped into his arms. He immediately hugged you back.

“Let’s make this work, okay?” You sighed, your face snuggled against his chest.

“Yes, of course.”

You finally pulled apart after about two minutes of just holding each other. The two of you had sat down on your couch, which was promptly placed against the wall. You looked Wonwoo in the eye and swallowed a lump in your throat.

“What’s going on? What made you so stressed?”

Wonwoo took in a sharp breath.

“You know that film I was working on?”

You nodded.

“Well, it almost got cut. The company suddenly hated the idea and the script, and I would’ve lost a shit ton of money it if got cut. I had personally invested in that film, and not to mention, I poured my heart and soul into it. The night we fought, um...they said they were officially gonna cut it. I didn’t have the heart to tell you because I thought you’d be disappointed in me. I was being so selfish I didn’t even see the emotional toll I was taking on you.

“But, while you were gone, I managed to convince my company to take up the movie again. And that just left me some time to wallow in my own guilt and self-hatred.”

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Please, Wonwoo, tell me everything. I deserve to know…”

Wonwoo nodded as his eyes started to fill with tears.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You gave him a weak smile.

“I love you too, Wonwoo.”

The love you both had for each other was brighter than any star in the sky. You had refused to let the star you both shared burn out.

You knew that you and Wonwoo were meant to be in each other’s lives. The challenges life threw at you led you to one another.

You looked up and met Wonwoo’s passionate gaze. Your light had reached him, and his light had reached you--that was that. Yet, when the time comes for your star to burn out, there is no denying the fact that you had cast light on each other’s lives.

There is no denying the love you had both shared.

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torentialtribute · 5 years

Text

MARTIN SAMUEL: We win the World Cup… and now the ECB sideline 50-over game

In the opinion of Sir Clive Woodward and many others, the RFU weakened the legacy of England Rugby World Cup

Imagine that on his return from Australia the governing body had decided to leave rugby, almost in its entirety.

Imagine that they had come up with a whole new format of the game and decided to focus on that. Fives. Eights. Twelve year olds. Imagine that, just as England had reached the height of the sport, it had become superfluous.

<img id = "i-246567b2c7caffab" src = "https://ift.tt/2k6d62T -7249871-image-a-17_1563218430395.jpg "height =" 453 "width =" 634 "alt =" The success of the Cricket World Cup in England is in danger of being reduced by The Hundred of the ECB. by The Hundred of the ECB "

The success of the Cricket World Cup in England is about to be diminished by The Hundred

Welcome to English cricket, 2019

Do you think this is the beginning of a brave new era? Think again. From here, the best English cricket players do not play 50-over matches unless they are selected for the national team or the Lions. Indeed, the only players who will gain experience with the format used for cricket & # 39; s World Cup will be those who are considered inferior. Those who are unwanted by the shiny new franchises of The Hundred

The ECB decided this game, with its merged teams in the city and the supposed attraction for those who don't like cricket – not a single ball of it, let alone 100 – is the future of money spinning. And the victim, squeezed in this desperate search for new markets, is the elongated, short play of forms. The 50 overs used at the World Cup.

There are eight of these new franchises and after three overseas players have been recruited for each, the clubs will need squadrons of 15. So 12 English players per team. Multiplying eight by 12 gets 96. So, the 96 best white ball cricketers available for England will never play the World Cup version of the game from next summer until they are elevated to international level. This is the equivalent of six-and-a-bit World Cup squadrons.

The Andy Murray and Serena Williams found knowledge and experience of any size to be essential this year in the mixed doubles at Wimbledon. On paper, Murray and Williams seemed unstoppable as a double play. In reality, they were defeated in round three by Nicole Melichar and Bruno Soares, two players whose impact is negligible.

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The 100-ball format means the best 50-over England players will no longer play that game

Melichar is in seventh place in singles tennis, Soares has never been higher than 221 and that was 15 years ago, they are not the same as they are, but they are difficult, and as such they comfortably defeated two players with 42 Grand Slam- titles – single and double rooms – between them.

There is no relevant evidence in cricket either, and the ECB left it between 2011 and 2013 5 0-ball game and was rewarded with a 2015 World Cup achievement that redefined incompetence. To finish four in a seven-team group, England registered two wins – against Afghanistan and Scotland – and failed to reach the quarter-finals.

Highlights? The 111-run defeat by Australia at the MCG, Sri Lanka surpasses England & 309-run total for losing a wicket, being blown out 15 runs short of the 275 set by Bangladesh.

It was this debacle that provoked the revolution in England's approach, culminating in the World Cup victory. How could the ECB have witnessed this story and decide to leave 50-over cricket for the second time it would go?

Future Test players can still sharpen their talent for building long turns, or for exhausting spells of concentration in the field, in the provincial championship. Those who excel in the shortest forms of the one-day game are now particularly well cared for.

The public doesn't like the 50s, but it won't happen. – about game, it is argued. Too long. Too boring. This is the ECB's mantra cricket for people who don't like cricket. The marketing department asked people who didn't look at cricket what they didn't like about cricket and most of them said the cricket, so they try to get rid of it.

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Jofra Archer celebrates after England won the Cricket World Cup during a fashion show at Lord & # 39; s

If they can remove the cricket from cricket, they think, people will start watching how it is played. It's a genius idea, you have to admit.

Families are the target audience, so alcohol will also be banned, otherwise people will just start chatting. Anyway, it's not that someone might need a glass of chardonnay to relieve the tension from taking a group of school kids to a sport they all hate. That is why The Hundred emphasizes how little cricket there will be. & # 39; No, seriously, you can do this sober. It is not that we are going to hit or something. & # 39;

But strangely enough, if this World Cup has proven one thing, it is that the modern 50-over-white ball game can be super entertaining and has benefited immensely from the rise of Twenty20. It is now faster, more furious, but with enough subtlety and nuance to captivate those who love test matches. They could be called cricket fans.

Even the final, played on a slow pitch by the New Zealand team whose success is based on defending low scores with stingy bowling, gently cooked to an astonishing climax. The competition can sometimes look like a relapse until a few decades ago when too many teams tried to build a day of innings because they might score, but the last hour was sport at its very best.

Alternatively, we can participate in those who demand immediate satisfaction and reduce cricket to a series of Instagram moments. Why have 50 overs? Cut directly to a super.

There are many reasons to be wary of The Hundred, but it is more worrying than one of them is the nonchalant contempt of the ECB for the World Cup that their players have just won.

The lap of honor of the English team was conducted on the Oval on Monday amid hundreds of happy school children. What was the ECB's message to them? & # 39; This is cricket, children.

It's very difficult to play with your friends, easy to make negative comparisons between the women's final in Wimbledon in 56 minutes, and the men's match between Novak Djokovic and Roger Federer , which lasted three minutes less than five hours

By the time the men finished their

It is clear that, measured by the time on the field, those on were present on Sunday, paid more for their money.

<img id = "i-e525119ae7c28748" src = "https://ift.tt/2k366DR image-a-11_1563217416415.jpg "height =" 362 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-e525119ae7c28748" src = "https://ift.tt/305gPND /15/20/16084152-7249871-image-a-11_1563217416415.jpg "height =" 362 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-e525119ae7c28748" src = "https: //i.dailymail. co.uk/1s/2019/07/15/20/16084152-7249871-image-a-11_1563217416415.jpg "height =" 362 "width =" 634 "alt =" Looking at the length of a match, the incredible performance is amazing by Simona Halep on Saturday Halep's incredible performance on Saturday "

Yet this looks at the incredible performance of Simona Halep against Serena Williams, certainly one of the most complete individual screenings that the has seen competition.

In her 6-2, 6-2 victory, Halep made only three casual errors and one of those errors is considered debatable.

It was a stunning display of athletic behavior against a champion who has displaced the physical parameters of the sport. And yes, it was short. But that doesn't mean it wasn't sweet.

The strange thing about Lewis Hamilton's tax affairs is that they

Hamilton & # 39; s residence in Monaco is always stopped by a kind of stain on his character in a way that he never was or never is, for other British sports heroes who live there. It is almost as if there is something else that separates him, something else.

& # 39; Was Jenson & # 39; s Britishness ever questioned because he lived in Monaco? & # 39; He wrote Ferdinand. & # 39; No chance. I will tell you why – because I looked the same, sounded similar, dressed in the same way, and walked the same way as the people who raise questions about Hamilton. The level of contempt and racist overtones in doubting Hamilton's patriotism should not be underestimated. "

He is right. No one ever says that Radcliffe was less than British, who now lived in Monaco for two decades, nobody said about Button, or about the British Tour de France winners.

Yet Hamilton constantly fights against negative perceptions, with his tax status used as a blatant moral justification, and he also wears diamond earrings and flamboyant clothing – why can't I be gentle and down-to-earth like all those other Formula 1 drivers?

It is not that it is the best in racing the fastest cars on earth, but that could lead to a man developing an extravagant style.

<img id = "i-a13113f774a1d7b9" src = "https://ift.tt/2NVcz1L" height = " 586 "width =" 634 "alt =" Lewis Hamilton & # 39; s stay in Monaco is always stopped by a kind of stain on his character There "Lewis Hamilton & # 39; s stay in Monaco is always stopped by a kind of stain on his character

Lewis Hamilton & # 39; s residence in Monaco is always held back by a kind of stain on his character

On Silverstone on Sunday, Hamilton won his sixth British Grand Prix, a record for every driver, not just a British citizen. Michael Schumacher, on the other hand, won three. Those who don't understand claim that Hamilton drives the best car. But that is not an accident either. The best drivers end up with the best builders, in the best machine. Hamilton did not demand to drive for Mercedes. They chose him.

Andy Murray, Serena Williams, Tiger Woods, Andy Murray, Andy Murray, Andy Murray, Vijay Singh – he didn't have the right to be good the way he became. Black children from poor families in Stevenage do not become Formula 1 champions.

Hamilton is an outlier, an unprecedented willpower and that is an inspiration, no matter where he puts his hat. & # 39; I am going to all these races and I proudly lift the British flag & # 39 ;, he said. & # 39; There is no one else in this sport who has raised it that high. & # 39;

Indeed.

Bruce Bruce did not play in the era

Bruce & # 39; s exit appears on EFL financial foolishness when Premier League wages exploded. Still, as a former captain of Manchester United and a manager since 1998, now working at his 10th club, he is unlikely to fall short at Christmas. In other words, he is not about the money.

Karren Brady says that Bruce was alone during his stay in Birmingham

So the job in Newcastle will in part be a labor of love. It was his youth club with personal ties.

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<img id = "i-7724172c526b5e11" src = "https://ift.tt/2UINeHc /2019/07/15/20/16084146-7249871-image-m-14_1563217458753.jpg "height =" 448 "width =" 634 "alt =" <img id = "i-7724172c526b5e11" src = "https: // i.dailymail.co.uk/1s/2019/07/15/20/16084146-7249871-image-m-14_1563217458753.jpg "height =" 448 "width =" 634 "alt =" Steve Bruce & # 39; s move to Newcastle shows the tension that FFP laws put on championship clubs

Steve Bruce & # 39; s move to Newcastle shows the tension that FFP laws put on championship clubs

owner of Sheffield Wednesday, Dejphon Chansiri, almost certainly has more ambitions than Mike Ashley in Newcastle. I would like to invest more – and Bruce knows this – but his hands are bound by a gentle transfer and the fear of punishing further penalties for violating EFL spending rules.

That is why even a low-wage club, an exhausted team, a reputable stingy recruitment policy and a president who would sell in the blink of an eye if a serious offer were to come – we can probably now consider the lord of Abu Dhabi as the last in a long series of pretenders – being viewed by Bruce as the better bet.

The Wednesday fan who confronted him on the sidelines during Saturday's friendship with Lincoln would like to file his complaint with the top managers of the division.

Worldwide glory no warning for Brexit

Jacob Rees-Mogg fourth the victory in the World Cup in a foolish way by trying to make a connection between England's success to Brexit.

& # 39; Clearly we don't need Europe to win & # 39 ;, he brayed and set fire to fire.

Players such as Ben Stokes and Jason Roy were born abroad – New Zealand and South Africa – but came to this country as students and progressed through the English system.

<img id = "i-767b6f72d35f33e" src = "https://ift.tt/32sv3dl image-a-15_1563217679748.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" This team from England represents the global nature of modern life and its need for openness.

This team from England represents the global nature of modern life and its need for openness

This article is licensed under the GNU license for free documentation The material used in the Wikipedia article "

Still arrived Jofra Archer a few months ago as an international international cricket player from Barbados and Trevor Bayliss, the trainer who owes the huge improvement to England in the one-day match, is very much an Australian who will return home after the Ashes series

Indeed, what this England team and their victory To represent more than the petty nationalism of Rees-Mogg is the global nature of modern life and its need for alliances and openness.

if this is the level of understanding of those who hijacked the conservative party and therefore our next government does not venture too much into days like Sunday.

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