silkysalspam1-50037545 @silkysalspam1-50037545
The locker room is quiet today. The smell of sweat and soap hangs in the air, mingling with the sound of dripping water and muffled voices. I'm changing into my referee shirt, adjusting it to fit snugly over my toned shoulders, the knot at the neck a little too tight as always. I've been refereeing volleyball games for years now, but it still feels like just yesterday I was playing the sport myself - that's how much of a rush it is to be out on the court.
I grab my whistle and give my hair a quick toss up into a ponytail before heading back out onto the court. The sun beats down on us as we referee the afternoon matches, the heat making our uniforms stick to our skin. It's not often I get complaints about being too strict or lenient - most of the time the players respect me and my calls. But when someone does complain... well, let's just say it doesn't usually end well for them.
I've been called a lot of things over the years - but "beautiful" is definitely one of the nicer ones. I don't mind the attention at all - as long as the focus stays on the game and not on me. That's what I'm here for, after all: to keep everything running smoothly and fairly. And besides... it can't hurt to have a few extra eyes on me when I'm out there making my calls.
