Chapter 89 – Rising Tensions
The morning light broke through the dusty windows of the small dormitory, spilling onto Jota's worn boots and the crumpled notebook beside his bed. The past few weeks had been relentless—training, matches, tactical drills—but today felt different. Today felt heavier. A sense of anticipation clung to the air, tight as the laces of his boots.
Jota stretched, letting his body awaken fully. Each muscle protested slightly, a reminder that yesterday's session had been far from easy. Yet it was not pain that sharpened his focus; it was the knowledge that the academy scouts were coming again. Not just any scouts—these were representatives from top clubs across Portugal, and perhaps even beyond. Eyes that could change a career were about to fall on him.
He tied his laces carefully, each loop a ritual. Each knot a reminder: focus is control. Control is freedom. He glanced at the notebook and saw the words from last night staring back at him:
