"Professor," Bastian grunted. "You are early. This is good."
"Morning, Bastian," Alex said, his voice quiet.
This was his new life. For the last week, ever since the FA Cup win, Alex had been training full time with the first team. Antoine was still injured, and the manager, Steve, had decided that Alex was his new apprentice.
His locker, number 38, felt permanent now. His new, all black boots were sitting neatly at the bottom.
Harry, the team captain, walked in, whistling. "Morning, Professor! Morning, Bastian! What a beautiful day to kick a ball."
Harry ruffled Alexs hair as he walked past.
Alex was not a visitor anymore. He was not a mascot. He was... the team's kid. The Professor.
He was a sixteen year old who had a five year contract, a boot deal, and was sitting next to the captain of England.
His old life as an analyst felt like it was from a different century.
