Sydney
July 2024
Australia was beautiful.
Leah hated it.
Not all the time.
That was the problem.
Sometimes it felt magical — packed stadiums, England chants echoing through Sydney streets, the girls winning matches beneath floodlights while the whole country seemed alive with football.
And sometimes it felt unbearable.
Because every celebration carried the same thought underneath it:
you were supposed to be out there.
Leah smiled through all of it anyway.
That was what captains did.
—
By the second week, the loneliness started creeping in properly.
Not obvious.
Subtle.
Late at night after matches. In hotel rooms when adrenaline faded. Watching the girls prepare mentally for games she should've been starting in.
And suddenly Leah found herself staying out later after wins.
Then later again.
Then barely sleeping at all.
It started harmlessly.
A few drinks with Alessia and Ella after a match.
Music too loud. Sydney lights reflecting off the harbour. Teammates dancing around her while for a few hours nobody talked about her knee or recovery or heartbreak.
Out there, in crowded bars and loud clubs, Leah almost forgot what she lost.
Almost.
So she chased that feeling harder every night.
—
Her phone buzzed across the hotel bathroom counter at 2:14am.
Three missed FaceTimes.
Leah stared at the screen for a second too long.
Then locked it again.
Behind her, music pounded through the hotel suite while half the girls screamed lyrics somewhere in the living room.
"Leah!" Ella shouted drunkenly. "Stop pretending you're retired and come dance."
Leah laughed despite herself and slipped the phone into her pocket instead.
Because dancing felt easier than talking to Elle lately.
Talking meant honesty.
And honesty meant admitting Australia was destroying her quietly.
That every match hurt.
That hearing the national anthem made her chest ache.
That watching from the stands instead of the pitch made her feel disconnected from herself.
So instead she smiled for photos and drank champagne at 3am while Sydney blurred around her.
And slowly—
without really meaning to—
she stopped communicating properly.
—
New York was worse.
Because Elle watched it happen through screens.
Instagram stories.
TikToks.
Photos of Leah out with the girls looking beautiful and reckless and strangely unreachable all at once.
Meanwhile their calls became shorter.
Texts slower.
Emotionally thinner.
The time difference made everything harder too.
Leah slept through FaceTimes.
Elle waited awake anyway.
And eventually hurt started turning into frustration.
—
"You disappeared for two days."
Leah closed her eyes immediately at Elle's voice through the phone.
Not angry yet.
Worse.
Disappointed.
Sydney sunlight poured across Leah's hotel balcony while exhaustion sat heavy behind her eyes.
"I didn't disappear."
"Leah."
"I've just been busy."
Silence.
Because they both knew that wasn't true.
Busy wasn't posting blurry 4am photos with teammates while ignoring messages.
Busy wasn't replying ten hours later with sorry babe x.
Elle sat cross-legged on her apartment floor in New York still in pajamas, dark circles beneath her eyes now too.
"You haven't talked to me properly since you got there."
Leah rubbed tiredly at her face.
"I'm trying."
"No," Elle said quietly. "I think you're avoiding me."
That landed harder than Leah expected.
Because maybe it was true.
Talking to Elle made things real.
And right now Leah felt like she was barely holding herself together emotionally.
"You don't understand what this feels like," Leah said quietly.
The second the words left her mouth she regretted them.
Elle went still instantly.
"No?" she asked softly.
Leah sighed sharply. "That's not what I meant."
"But it's what you said."
The hurt in her voice twisted painfully inside Leah's chest.
Outside the balcony Sydney glittered bright and alive while somewhere downstairs England staff moved through the hotel lobby preparing for another match day.
Everything suddenly felt exhausting.
Too loud.
Too emotional.
"You're partying every night," Elle said quietly. "And every time I call you sound further away from me."
Leah laughed bitterly under her breath.
"Sorry I'm not handling watching my World Cup from the sidelines very gracefully."
Silence.
Real silence.
Because there it was.
Finally.
The truth underneath all of it.
Elle's expression softened instantly.
"Oh, Leah."
"No," Leah interrupted quickly, emotion rising too fast now. "Everyone keeps acting like I'm inspiring for being here but it's horrible."
Her voice cracked slightly.
"I'm watching the thing I worked my whole life for happen without me."
God.
Elle's chest hurt hearing it.
Because finally—
finally—
Leah sounded honest again.
Not composed.
Not okay.
Heartbroken.
"You should've told me that," Elle whispered softly.
Leah looked down at the hotel balcony floor.
"I didn't know how."
The sadness between them suddenly felt enormous.
An entire ocean wide.
"I miss you," Elle admitted quietly after a long silence.
Leah closed her eyes immediately because somehow that hurt most of all.
Not the argument.
The distance.
The fact she'd pushed away the one person who usually made everything feel survivable.
"I miss you too," Leah whispered.
Then silence again.
Heavy this time.
Not resolved.
Not fixed.
Because neither of them really knew what to say next.
Elle wanted Leah to let her in.
Leah wanted to stop feeling broken long enough to explain what Australia was doing to her.
But instead they just sat there thousands of miles apart staring at each other through frozen phone screens while exhaustion and hurt filled the spaces where comfort usually lived.
Eventually Elle looked away first.
"I should sleep."
Leah nodded once slowly.
"Yeah."
Neither said I love you.
And somehow that felt worse than the fight itself.
When the call ended, Leah sat alone on the balcony listening to Sydney traffic far below while her phone screen went black in her hands.
For the first time since Elle entered her life—
she had absolutely no idea how to reach her again.