Leo woke up feeling like he had been run over by a truck.
His legs ached, his back was stiff, and his arms felt like dead weight.
The soreness from the previous nightâs training clung to him, reminding him of every sprint, every touch of the ball, every movement.
It hadnât been the most effective trainingâhe knew working alone couldnât replace the structure of a real team sessionâbut it was something.
It was all he had right now.
He groaned as he pushed himself upright, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Just as he swung his legs over the bed, there was a sharp knock on his door.
"Oi, sleepyhead," Miaâs voice rang through the wood.
"Sofia says if you donât get up now, youâre skipping breakfast!"
Leo sighed. "Iâm up, Iâm up."
"You donât sound up."
"Would you like me to open the door so you can see for yourself?"
Silence. Then, the sound of retreating footsteps.
Satisfied, Leo stretched, wincing at the stiffness in his muscles before dragging himself into the bathroom.
The cold shower was a brutal but necessary wake-up call.
By the time he stepped out, his body was still sore, but his mind was more alert.
In the kitchen, Sofia stood by the stove, stirring something in a pot.
She had her hair tied back, her usual work blazer draped over a chair.
Mia sat at the table, swinging her legs as she scrolled through her phone.
Leo dropped into a chair, letting out a deep sigh.
"You look like hell," Sofia noted without turning around.
"Feel like it too," he muttered, reaching for a slice of toast.
Mia smirked. "I heard you sneaked out to train last night."
"I didnât sneak out," Leo defended. "I walked out like a normal person."
Sofia turned, giving him a pointed look.
"At what? Eleven at night?"
Leo bit into his toast, avoiding her gaze.
Sofia exhaled.
"Look, I get that youâre serious about this. But if you get injured before you even have a chance to prove yourself, whatâs the point?"
"Iâll be fine," Leo said, though even as he spoke, his sore muscles begged to differ.
Sofia gave him a long, searching look before shaking her head. "Just... be careful."
Mia, ever the instigator, grinned.
"So, does this mean Leoâs actually a pro now? Should I start making a list of things I want you to buy me?"
Leo flicked a crumb at her.
"If I ever make it big, youâll be the last person I buy anything for."
Mia gasped in mock betrayal, clutching her chest.
"Unbelievable."
Sofia rolled her eyes as she glanced at the clock.
"Alright, both of youâout. Mia, school. Leo, also school. Now."
With minimal protest, Leo grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder.
His body still felt sluggish, but his mind was sharp, already thinking about the day ahead.
Because of his status as an academy player, his school had made his schedule flexible.
He had fewer hours in class than most students, but he still had to keep up with his studies.
Despite what some assumed, Leo wasnât dumb.
He wasnât a genius either, but he was quick-witted and did well enough to stay in the top tier of his class.
The morning lessons passed in a blur.
Math, English, and a dull history lecture about the Industrial Revolution.
He wasnât fully checked out, though.
When the teacher called on him, he answered without hesitation.
When group work was assigned, he participated without complaint.
He didnât stand out, but he wasnât invisible either.
Still, he kept to himself. No unnecessary conversations, no extra effort to make friends.
Most of the students knew him as "that guy from Unitedâs academy," but since he wasnât a star player, no one paid him much mind.
That suited him just fine.
The only time he perked up was when the final bell rang.
As soon as it did, he was out of his chair, bag slung over his shoulder, as he made a beeline for the exit.
The moment he stepped outside, Leo hopped onto his bike, gripping the handlebars tightly as he sped through the streets.
The wind whipped against his face, his pulse thrumming with excitement.
He had something to look forward to.
Dawson was waiting.
And today, the real work would begin.