The locker room was alive with noise and movement, every inch of it vibrating with the energy of victory. Boots thudded against lockers in rhythm with the music blasting from Leo's portable speaker. Players were singing—some on beat, others shamelessly off-key—but no one cared about tune or harmony. They had won, and that was all that mattered. Jerseys were tossed into the air like victory flags, water bottles sprayed like champagne, and the air smelled of sweat, grass, and pure joy.
Noah sat in the middle of it all, towel draped around his neck, still trying to come to terms with what they had accomplished. They were champions. For someone who used to hide behind safe passes, terrified of making mistakes, this moment felt almost surreal. He had been part of it—no, he had shaped it. Yet even with the trophy sitting just a few feet away on a bench, glittering under the fluorescent lights, there was still a quietness inside him.
Leo broke through that quiet the way only Leo could, an arm hooking around Noah's shoulders, nearly choking him in the process. "Maestro!" Leo yelled in his ear over the music, laughing. "That pass—you have no idea how insane that was! People are gonna talk about it for months. Seriously, I've been replaying it in my head since it happened."
Noah laughed awkwardly, scratching his cheek as he looked away. "It was just a pass."
Leo pulled back, staring at him like he'd lost his mind. "Just a pass? Noah, you basically carved their defense open like it was training cones. That was art, bro, actual art!"
Before Noah could respond, Riku approached, wiping sweat from his forehead with the hem of his jersey. Unlike Leo, his voice was quieter, but there was weight in it. "You controlled the game," Riku said, tone matter-of-fact but holding something rare for him—respect. "I didn't think anyone at this level could… do that. I actually trusted you out there."
Noah blinked at him, slightly taken aback. "You saying that as a compliment?"
Riku smirked faintly, glancing away. "Don't make me regret it."
That earned a laugh from Leo, who slapped Riku on the back before going back to dancing with two other teammates. Noah smiled, small but genuine. For once, there was no edge between them, no rivalry ready to spark into something sharp. Just players celebrating something they had built together.
The energy in the locker room carried onto the team bus. Players crowded into seats, replaying moments from the match on their phones, laughing at memes already circulating online. Noah sat near the back by a window, looking out at the stadium as the lights slowly dimmed behind them. He couldn't help but think of how far he had come. Months ago, he wouldn't have dared take the risks he took today. Back then, every mistake felt like proof he wasn't good enough. But tonight, he hadn't played safe. Tonight, he had dared.
His phone buzzed. A video call from home. He hesitated before answering, and his mother's face instantly filled the screen, her smile so bright it nearly outshone the fluorescent lights above him. "Noah! I saw it! I saw everything! That pass in the sixty-first minute—oh my God, Noah, they kept showing the replay. People at the café were screaming!"
Noah chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You watched the whole match?"
"Of course I did! Everyone was watching—your uncle, your cousins, even some of your old teachers. They couldn't believe it was you out there. You looked… different, Noah. Like you weren't afraid anymore."
He paused, eyes softening as the words settled in. "Yeah… I guess I'm done being scared, Mom."
Her smile trembled slightly, pride radiating through the screen. "Good. Because you were born for this."
When the call ended, Noah sat for a moment with the quiet ringing of those words in his ears. Born for this. It felt good, but also heavy, like a weight he didn't know he had agreed to carry.
As he pocketed his phone, footsteps approached, and a man in a navy blazer stopped at the edge of the bus steps. "Noah Carter?" the man asked, voice smooth, professional, with an accent Noah couldn't place immediately.
"Yes, sir?" Noah replied, standing awkwardly.
The man offered a business card. "Richard Halford, scouting network for the Premier Division. Impressive vision today. Keep developing that." His eyes flicked past Noah almost immediately, locking on Leo, who was surrounded by two other scouts and chatting animatedly as though he had known them his whole life. There was no malice in Halford's tone, no dismissal—but no real excitement either. He gave a polite nod and walked away, already moving toward the louder, flashier talents.
Noah stared at the card, unsure how to feel. His contribution had been real. His passes had broken the game open, his tempo control had dictated the rhythm, but it was Leo's name on the highlight reels, Leo's charisma that lit up rooms, and Riku's pressing energy that drew praise from pundits. Noah had played the kind of game where fans cheered the result but not necessarily the one pulling strings behind it.
As the bus pulled away, Noah leaned back against the seat and watched the city lights smear across the window. His phone buzzed again—messages from family and friends. Congrats on the trophy! What a match! Leo's goal was sick! You guys are amazing! Not one message mentioned his name specifically.
He smiled faintly, letting the phone drop onto his lap, and looked back out the window. Maybe it didn't matter, not tonight. But deep down, he felt it. They don't see me yet… but one day, they will. One day, I'll make them see it. Not just for one pass, not just for one match, but for everything I bring.
For now, he held the scout's card in his hand, twirling it between his fingers. It wasn't the kind of interest he'd dreamed about, the kind that came with big headlines and national buzz, but it was a door, even if just slightly open. And he was determined to push it wide—on his terms, not anyone else's.