Chapter 73: What First Team Does To A Boy.
By the time Leo made his way back toward the team bus, the players were already scattered around it, some leaning against the side panels, others halfway through snacks they’d grabbed from the kit bags.
The cold night carried their laughter in short bursts, the mood reflecting the win.
"Look who finally decided to join us," McClean called out as Leo came closer, his grin broad and unmistakably mischievous.
He nudged the player next to him with an elbow. "Noise’s gone to his head already. Thinks he can keep us all waiting now."
That drew a ripple of chuckles from the group.
A couple of them clapped their hands together, another tossed in a mock whistle like Leo was strutting down a runway.
Even Cousins, who rarely laughed at much, cracked a smile.
Leo shook his head, pulling his hood back, the corner of his mouth curling upward.
"Relax, I’m here now."
"Barely," McClean shot back.
"If Dawson’s smart, he’ll bench you for making us stand around. Can’t have you thinking you’re bigger than the bus schedule."
The laughter picked up again, and Leo just rolled his eyes, sliding into the loose circle of teammates.
The teasing was sharp, but there was warmth underneath it that told him he was part of the group now.
Then Dawson’s voice cut through, steady but carrying that edge of authority that always pulled the room, or the bus, back together.
"Let him enjoy it tonight," Dawson said, stepping down from the bus steps with his hands in his coat pockets.
His gaze swept over the group before landing briefly on Leo. "He earned that."
The players quieted, listening.
"But," Dawson continued, his tone tightening just enough to make the point clear, "if it happens again, and you keep us waiting... we’ll leave without you."
McClean snickered, shaking his head. "You hear that? He’s serious."
Dawson wasn’t finished, though.
His lips curved in something between a smirk and a warning.
"Unless, of course... you can pull off a few more spectacular performances like tonight."
He shrugged, casual but deliberate.
"In that case, maybe I wouldn’t mind waiting."
That brought another round of laughter from the squad, louder this time, with a couple of them clapping Leo on the back.
"Pressure’s on now," Fletcher said, grinning. "Better bring the fireworks every week."
Leo let the noise wash over him, smiling but not saying much as he stepped onto the bus and dropped into an empty seat near the back.
As the doors hissed shut and the engine revved, the chatter inside slowly settled.
Jackets came off, headphones went on, and within minutes, the rhythmic hum of the road was louder than any conversation.
For the first time all night, it felt quiet.
.......
"Okay, something is wrong," Leo said as he dropped his bag in the corner of his room and barely bothered with the light switch before collapsing onto the bed.
The mattress caught him like it always did—firm, a little too stiff, but tonight it felt like heaven.
His arms spread wide, chest still rising and falling heavier than he wanted.
He’d only played one half.
Just forty-five minutes.
And yet his legs buzzed with fatigue like he’d gone the full ninety.
He let out a breath, staring up at the ceiling.
"Need to get my stamina up," he muttered to himself, the words spilling out without thought.
"Body strength, too. Might have to talk to Thompson or something," he muttered while clutching his biceps.
The thought lingered a beat longer than the sigh that followed, before he swung his legs off the bed.
The showers at the stadium had been rushed because of his meeting with Sofia and Mia, and as he stood, it didn’t feel enough.
He pushed himself up and padded across the small space into the bathroom, twisting the shower handle until the water spilt warm against his skin.
He stepped under it, let his head tip forward, and just stood there.
Minutes passed without movement.
The noise from the stadium, the cheers, the laughter on the bus, it all bled away under the rhythm of the water.
By the time he turned the tap off, steam hung thick in the air.
He wiped a hand across the fogged-up mirror, his reflection blurring in and out.
That’s when the thought came.
A sudden jolt in his chest, like he’d forgotten something important. Something he should’ve done before now.
He frowned, dragging the towel across his shoulders.
What was it? A message? A call? Boots to clean?
He couldn’t pin it down.
The more he tried to remember, the more it slipped through, just out of reach.
"Whatever," he muttered, shaking his head.
He stepped back into the room, the air cooler against his damp skin, the nagging thought still circling but refusing to land.
And with that, the night carried on.
......
The pounding on his door rattled him awake as Leo’s eyes snapped open.
"Who the fu-" but before he could end, the pounding came back again.
Leo groaned, peeled one leg off the bed and dragged himself across the small room.
"I swear if this is some prank."
His legs still felt heavy, like they’d been dipped in concrete as he yanked the door open.
Ezra and Jake stood there, grinning like they’d just scored a hat-trick between them.
Leo just stared, expression flat, before sighing and then, without a word, he turned, shuffled back toward his bed, and collapsed face-first onto the sheets.
"Close it behind you," he mumbled into the pillow.
Jake snorted but pushed the door shut while Ezra threw himself into the armchair by the desk, and Jake into the two-seater couch.
"Who hurt you, mate?" Jake asked with mock sympathy. "Need me to ring someone?"
Leo raised one hand lazily from the bed, gave it a half-wave like he was surrendering, then let it fall back beside him with a dull thud.
The other two ignored him, already reaching for the controller on the shelf.
Within minutes, the PS4 was whirring, screen glowing as the latest edition of FIFA loaded up, the soundtrack filling the room.
"Can’t believe this is the last FIFA and EA game," Ezra spat as he dried his wet palms on his shorts.
"Those geezers at the association are just money-grubbing," Jake said incoherently as he scrolled through menus before turning his eyes in the direction of the PS4 making jet engine sounds.
"You know, I heard you’re on more than some of the U23S. Even a couple of the older squad lads. And you’re still running around with a PS4? What’s this about? Can’t spring for a PS5?"
Leo didn’t answer.
He didn’t even lift his head.
"See? He knows," Ezra said, leaning back with his arms behind his head.
"Big-time player. Won’t even justify us with an answer."
Jake smirked, picking his team.
"Yeah, he’s gone full first-team. Too good for us now."
Their banter carried on, bouncing between laughter and complaints about dodgy refereeing in-game while Leo, on the bed, let their voices wash over him.
It was comforting in a way, like background noise at home.
But then the mood shifted.
Ezra’s voice, lower this time, cut through.
"I just want my debut, man. Like... badly. Been waiting all season. Just one proper match. I was even praying for us to meet some team from the Lower tiers so we could get a shot."
Jake clicked his tongue.
"My agent lined up a couple of things. League Two sides sniffing around. But I don’t fancy it. Not yet. Don’t want to disappear into some small club and never come back."
Leo, hearing the last words of Jake, blinked into the darkness of his pillow.
Something jolted in his chest before his eyes opened fully.
The thing he’d forgotten.
He sat up suddenly, the sheets falling off his shoulders as Ezra and Jake froze mid-match, glancing over.
"What’s up with you?" Ezra asked.
Leo didn’t answer.
He swung his legs off the bed, crouched by his bag in the corner, and started digging through.
Boots. Tape. Training top. Then his jacket.
His fingers slipped into the inside pocket until he pulled something out, a crumpled business card, the corners bent from being shoved around all night.
He stared at it.
Ezra and Jake exchanged a look.
"Mate..." Jake said slowly, putting the controller down.
"What’s that? Don’t tell me you’re stressing already."
Ezra leaned forward, eyebrows raised.
"It’s been, what? Three games? And you’re already collecting business cards?"
Leo didn’t answer them.
He just sat there on the edge of his bed, turning the card over in his hand, staring at Noah Sarin’s name.
Ezra leaned back again, whistling under his breath.
"Pressure’s really got him, hasn’t it?"
Jake shook his head, half amused, half serious. "First team will do that to you, bro. Changes people quickly."
The game menu hummed in the background, waiting for someone to press start, but nobody reached for the controller.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the low buzz of the PS4 fan and Leo’s breathing as he kept his eyes fixed on the card.
A/N: My dear readers. I have been unfaithful, and I am sorry. I haven’t released in like 2 weeks, and my exams were to blame, but don’t worry. I have free time now, at least until October, so I will be trying my hardest to release at least one Chapter a day of this novel. Thanks for the support as always, and I will see you in a bit.