The morning sun streamed weakly through the curtains, pulling Leo out of sleep.
For once in a while, he hadn't been up at dawn thinking about football drills or training sessions.
Sofía had already been up, hunched over her laptop at the kitchen table by the time he finished washing up.
She clicked away furiously for another hour, finally submitting her work with a triumphant stretch.
"There," she said, closing the laptop with a soft thud.
"All clear for today."
After breakfast, they decided to head out.
Mia insisted on making it a full shopping trip, claiming her brother desperately needed a wardrobe update now that he was about to get famous and would need to care about appearances.
They made their way through the town center, moving between shops while Mia bounced happily beside them, carrying a plushie she had begged for incessantly at the entrance.
At some point, while Sofía and Mia went into a grocery store to pick up essentials, Leo lingered outside, sipping from a water bottle and people-watching.
That's when he heard it.
"Well, well, well. Look who it is."
Leo turned his head slightly and saw them — three of his old teammates from the Manchester United's U18 academy, he used to play for before getting picked up by Wigan Athletic.
He hadn't seen them in a bit, not since he left after being let go, told bluntly that he wasn't up to par, not even close to the standards they expected.
They approached casually, but there was an edge to their smiles. One of them, taller but still wiry, smirked and gave Leo a mock punch to the arm.
"Didn't think we'd see you here, mate," the first one said.
"What happened? Gave up on football? Finally realized school was the way?"
Another one snickered, nudging his friend.
"Yeah, man. We always said football wasn't for everyone."
Leo stood there quietly, feeling a flicker of the old irritation rise — the sting of rejection, of being discarded so easily after chasing a dream so big.
But he stamped it down just as quickly. That was behind him now.
He simply smiled, not bothering to answer or engage, letting their words fall uselessly between them like stones thrown at a river.
He gave a small nod, turned on his heel, and walked away without a word.
Their laughter and jeers followed him for a few steps, but Leo didn't even glance back.
It didn't matter. Not anymore.
By the time he rejoined Sofía and Mia at the checkout, the encounter was already behind him.
Mia noticed him coming back and immediately frowned.
"Where'd you go?" she asked, tilting her head up at him suspiciously.
Leo just chuckled, ruffling her hair gently until she giggled.
"Just stretching my legs," he said lightly, grabbing the heavier grocery bags without being asked.
Sofía threw him a quick, grateful smile, and the three of them made their way out of the store together, stepping into the warm afternoon air.
The ride home was easy, filled with Mia's chattering about everything and nothing as Leo carried most of the groceries with little effort.
When they finally got back to their apartment, Sofía and Mia went straight to the kitchen to start preparing dinner.
Leo, after dropping the bags on the counter, headed for the living room.
He dusted off his old PS4, feeling a bit excited as he plugged everything back in.
It had been a while since he played.
Beginning from Dawson's training to his recent one-month stint at Wigan.
He smiled to himself as he slid in his most recent prize: FIFA 22.
The console whirred to life, the familiar startup chime filling the room.
Leo sat cross-legged on the floor, controller in hand, and navigated through the menus to the team selection screen.
His thumb hovered instinctively over Manchester United — the badge glaring back at him like an old memory.
He had always picked them before. Always. But now, something in him hesitated.
He scrolled down slowly, through the leagues, down to League One — a world away from the glittering lights of the Premier League — until he found them: Wigan Athletic.
A modest three-star team in the grand scope of things, but for Leo, they might as well have been Real Madrid.
He selected them without thinking, watching the squad pop up on the screen.
Names and faces he would soon come to know, teammates he could soon be running alongside — if Dawson's plans really played out.
Leo leaned forward, trying to memorize the key players.
Strikers, midfielders, defenders — he studied them the way he used to study maps in school, absorbing every detail.
Behind him, he could hear Mia giggling and Sofía humming as they cooked, the scent of something warm and delicious starting to drift into the living room.
Leo smiled faintly, sinking a little deeper into the game.
The game was just getting underway when the doorbell rang, a sharp chime that echoed through the apartment.
"Leo! Can you get that?" Sofía called from the kitchen, her voice barely carrying over Mia's laughter and the clatter of pans.
Leo paused the game, setting the controller down with a little sigh.
He had a pretty good idea who it might be.
Wiping his hands on his jeans, he crossed the room and opened the door — and just as he expected, there they stood.
Dawson was in front, his usual easy grin in place, dressed a little more formal than usual in a pressed dark shirt and slacks.
Beside him stood Malachi, his expression relaxed but alert, hands tucked casually into his jacket pockets.
But it was the third man who caught Leo's attention.
A few years older than Dawson and Malachi, the man had a neat, commanding presence about him — short-cropped hair, sharp eyes, and a calm, collected posture.
He wore a simple suit, nothing flashy, but he carried himself with the air of someone used to making important decisions.
Leo didn't need an introduction to know who he was.
Jones Xavier — Wigan Athletic's Youth Director. Malachi's boss.
The one who had to give the final green light for whatever Dawson and Malachi had planned.
Leo smiled a little wider, stepping back and holding the door open.
"Come in."
"Thanks, Leo," Dawson said, clapping him lightly on the shoulder as he passed.
Malachi gave him a small nod, and Mister Xavier simply offered a polite handshake as he entered.
Inside, Sofía poked her head around the kitchen door, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, her brows lifting slightly at the sight of the guests.
"Oh— Good evening," she said, a little breathless.
"Good evening, ma'am," Mister Xavier said smoothly, offering a courteous nod.
Mia peeked out from behind Sofía, wide-eyed, before dashing back into the kitchen with a giggle.
Sofía chuckled and turned to Leo.
"Settle them down, will you? Dinner's almost ready."
Leo gave a quick nod and guided their guests toward the living room, feeling a sudden weight settle in his chest.