Saturday, September 12, 2026
Blackwood City
Evaluation Day 5 of 90
At 6:14 a.m., Luca Veyron’s alarm went off.
He turned it off before the second vibration.
For a few seconds, he remained beneath the blanket.
His room was cold.
Saturday mornings at Blackwood were supposed to feel different.
They didn’t.
The evaluation period had turned every day into another piece of evidence.
September 8.
September 9.
September 10.
September 11.
Four days gone.
Eighty-six remained.
Luca sat up.
His left ankle felt better than yesterday.
The stiffness was still there, but lighter.
His palm was another matter.
The scrape had begun to itch beneath the bandage.
He resisted the urge to scratch it.
His phone showed three notifications.
One from the academy.
One from Elias.
One from Aurora.
He opened Aurora’s message first.
«You promised me breakfast at 9.»
Luca checked the time.
6:16.
He smiled.
Then another message appeared.
«And don’t tell me training ran late.
It’s Saturday.»
He stared at the screen.
She knew him too well.
Luca typed:
«I remember.»
The response arrived almost immediately.
«Good.
Because I have an actual business meeting at eleven and I need to leave by 10:15.»
Luca paused.
He remembered.
Yesterday, she had mentioned it.
AURELIA had been negotiating with a regional clothing supplier for several weeks.
Today was supposed to be the first in-person meeting.
He had promised to have breakfast with her before she left.
«I’ll be there.»
Aurora replied with a single message.
«You’d better.»
Luca put the phone down.
He stood.
This time, his ankle barely complained.
Breakfast began at 7:30.
The academy dining hall was quieter than usual.
Weekend schedules meant some players had more time to sleep, while others had already left for youth fixtures.
Luca sat with Elias and Marcus.
Marcus had somehow managed to turn breakfast into a full meal.
Three eggs.
Toast.
Fruit.
Yogurt.
And a bowl of cereal.
Elias stared at his tray.
“Are you feeding a family?”
Marcus continued eating.
“I train.”
“So do we.”
“You don’t train enough.”
Luca laughed.
Marcus looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re laughing.”
“Because Elias is offended.”
“I am offended.”
Marcus shrugged.
“Eat more.”
Elias pointed toward Luca.
“Tell him.”
Luca looked at Marcus’s plate.
“He’s probably right.”
Elias stared at both of them.
“I hate this table.”
Marcus grinned.
The easy conversation lasted another minute.
Then a coach entered the dining hall.
“Marcus.”
Marcus looked up.
“Yes?”
“Coach Halden wants you after breakfast.”
Marcus’s expression changed slightly.
“Now?”
“In fifteen minutes.”
The coach walked away.
Elias raised an eyebrow.
“You’re in trouble.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Probably another meeting about my future.”
He said it casually.
But Luca noticed the hesitation.
Marcus finished his breakfast.
At 8:03 a.m., Luca passed the administrative corridor on his way toward the changing room.
The door to Victor Halden’s office was partly open.
Marcus was inside.
Luca didn’t intend to listen.
Then Victor’s voice carried into the corridor.
“You’ve scored seven in the last five competitive fixtures.”
Marcus replied.
“Six.”
“Six?”
“One was ruled out.”
Victor paused.
“Seven goals that should have counted.”
“Technically.”
Luca kept walking.
Victor continued.
“You understand why scouts are watching you.”
“Yes.”
“You understand why the club is considering bringing you into senior sessions.”
Marcus’s answer came after a moment.
“Yes.”
Luca slowed.
Senior sessions.
That was different.
For Marcus, the academy was already becoming a bridge toward professional football.
For Luca, it was still a question of whether he belonged in the bridge at all.
He continued walking.
He didn’t need to hear more.
At 8:40 a.m., the players assembled on the main training pitch.
Victor stood in front of them.
“Saturday competitive session.”
He looked across the group.
“Intensity stays high.
We have scouts observing several players.”
Nobody spoke.
The atmosphere changed anyway.
Scouts.
That word always did something to young footballers.
Some became more aggressive.
Some tried skills they normally wouldn’t attempt.
Others stopped making decisions altogether.
Victor pointed toward the pitch.
“Don’t play for the people watching.
Play the game.”
Luca found that ironic.
His entire life at the academy seemed to depend on exactly the opposite.
Ryan Mercer took his position on the right.
Marcus moved toward the center.
Luca waited.
Victor looked at the lineup.
Then pointed.
“Veyron.
Right.”
Luca’s head lifted.
His first-team opportunity on the right had arrived without ceremony.
Ryan glanced toward him.
Neither spoke.
Luca jogged into position.
His heart rate increased before the ball even moved.
The first fifteen minutes were ugly.
Not because the players lacked ability.
Because everyone wanted to impress.
Ryan tried to beat a defender through the middle.
Lost the ball.
A midfielder attempted a thirty-meter pass.
It went out.
Marcus chased a through ball that had never been on.
Luca nearly collided with Elias while tracking a transition.
Victor blew the whistle.
“Stop.”
The players gathered.
“You’re trying to win the audition instead of the match.”
Nobody answered.
Victor looked at Marcus.
“You.”
Marcus nodded.
“Yes?”
“You’re making three runs when one is enough.”
Marcus looked frustrated.
“I thought—”
“That’s the problem.”
Victor turned away.
“Reset.”
The drill restarted.
This time, Luca stayed wider.
He received the ball from Elias.
One touch.
The defender closed.
Luca shifted his body.
A second touch toward the line.
The defender followed.
Luca accelerated.
The first two steps were clean.
The defender was beaten.
Luca looked up.
For a fraction of a second, Luca considered cutting inside.
Then he saw the central defender move toward him.
Cross.
He delivered the ball early.
Marcus attacked it.
Header.
Goal.
The net snapped backward.
Marcus landed awkwardly and rolled once before getting back up.
“Good ball!”
Luca nodded.
Marcus pointed at him.
“Again.”
Luca smiled.
“Again.”
Ryan watched from the opposite side.
His expression remained neutral.
But he had seen it.
So had Adrian.
From the sideline, the former midfielder wrote something on his clipboard.
The next sequence was different.
Ryan received the ball on the right and attacked.
He was faster than Luca over distance.
More experienced in the position.
His first touch pushed the ball forward.
He crossed early.
The striker headed wide.
Ryan jogged back.
Luca watched.
There was no reason to pretend Ryan was inferior.
He wasn’t.
Ryan had earned the position Luca wanted.
That was exactly why beating him would matter.
Not because Ryan was a villain.
Because he was good.
The session continued.
Luca had another dangerous run.
Then lost possession trying to force a pass.
Then made a smart recovery run.
Then misjudged a cross.
Then created a chance.
Then failed to track a runner.
Nothing was perfect.
That was football.
By the end of the session, his shirt was soaked through.
His left ankle was holding.
His palm hurt whenever he pushed himself off the ground.
When the final whistle came, Luca stood with his hands on his hips and breathed heavily.
Marcus walked over.
“You’ve got better.”
Luca looked at him.
“At what?”
“Right wing.”
Marcus wiped sweat from his forehead.
“You look less like you’re borrowing someone else’s position.”
Luca smiled.
“That’s a strange compliment.”
“It’s still a compliment.”
Marcus glanced toward the pitch.
“Keep doing it.”
Then he walked away.
Luca watched him leave.
The golden boy wasn’t laughing at him.
He wasn’t protecting his status.
He was acknowledging competition.
That somehow made the gap between them feel more real.
At 9:37 a.m., Luca showered quickly.
He checked his phone.
A message from Aurora.
«Where are you?»
Luca frowned.
He had thirty minutes.
He changed and left the changing room.
Another message.
«Luca.»
He called.
Aurora answered immediately.
“Hi.”
There was traffic in the background.
“Where are you?”
“On the way.”
“I know you’re on the way.
Where?”
“Academy.”
A pause.
“Luca.”
“I just finished.”
“You said you’d meet me at nine.”
“I know.”
“It’s 9:41.”
“I’ll get there.”
“You said that yesterday too.”
Luca stopped walking.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’ve started treating every promise like an appointment that can be moved whenever football gets in the way.”
He looked down the corridor.
Players were leaving around him.
“I didn’t forget.”
“I know you didn’t forget.”
Her voice was controlled.
“That’s what makes it worse.”
Luca didn’t answer.
Aurora continued.
“I have a supplier meeting at eleven.
I’ve spent two weeks preparing for it.
I wanted you there before I left.”
“I’ll come.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I’m coming now.”
“Fine.”
She ended the call.
Luca stared at the screen.
He didn’t like the feeling in his chest.
Not guilt exactly.
Frustration.
He had trained.
He had performed well.
He had finally been used on the right.
And somehow he had still managed to disappoint Aurora.
He left the academy.
Aurora was waiting outside a small café near the city center.
She sat at an outdoor table with her tablet open.
A cup of coffee had gone untouched beside it.
When Luca arrived at 9:58, she looked up.
He was still carrying his training bag.
She looked at the bag.
Then at him.
“Sit.”
Luca sat.
“You look angry.”
“I’m not angry.”
“You are.”
“I’m frustrated.”
“At me?”
Luca hesitated.
“At myself.”
Aurora closed the tablet.
“Good.”
He frowned.
“Good?”
“Because if you were going to blame me, we’d have a different conversation.”
Luca leaned back.
“I was training.”
“I know.”
“It was important.”
“I know.”
“We had a competitive session.”
“I know.”
He stopped.
Aurora folded her arms.
“You think I don’t understand that football matters?”
“No.”
“Then stop talking to me like I don’t.”
The words were sharper than usual.
Luca went quiet.
Aurora took a breath.
“I’m not asking you to choose me over football.”
“I know.”
“I’m asking you to keep your word.”
Luca looked at the table.
“I thought I could make both.”
“You can.”
She pointed at his phone.
“You just need to plan like a person who has a life outside the pitch.”
He looked at her.
Aurora continued.
“You wake up thinking about training.
You train.
You come back thinking about training.
You analyze everything.
You stay late.
Then you sleep badly and repeat it.”
She shook her head.
“That’s not discipline anymore.”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
“What is it?”
“Compulsion.”
The word landed hard.
Aurora softened her tone.
“You told me you want to become a professional.”
“Yes.”
“Then start acting like one.”
Luca looked at her.
“A professional doesn’t ignore recovery because he’s afraid of being forgotten.”
He didn’t respond.
“A professional doesn’t promise someone breakfast and then assume they’ll understand when he breaks it.”
She tapped his training bag.
“And a professional doesn’t treat everything outside football as optional.”
Luca lowered his eyes.
She wasn’t attacking his dream.
She was attacking the way he was handling it.
That difference mattered.
Aurora opened her tablet again.
“I have forty minutes before I need to leave.”
Luca looked at her.
“So you’re still letting me stay?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I didn’t invite you here to throw you out.”
A small smile appeared on his face.
She looked at his bandaged hand.
“How’s the ankle?”
“Better.”
“Good.”
She looked at his palm.
“And the hand?”
“Fine.”
“You’re learning.”
“Maybe.”
Aurora returned to her notes.
For the next twenty minutes, they sat together.
She worked.
Luca ate.
Neither needed to fill the silence.
At 10:31, Aurora closed her tablet.
“I have to go.”
Luca stood.
“I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
They walked toward the street.
Before getting into her car, Aurora turned toward him.
“One more thing.”
“What?”
“You played right wing today?”
Luca nodded.
“How was it?”
He thought about it.
“Better.”
“Because?”
“Because I didn’t have to think about every movement.”
Aurora smiled.
“Then remember that.”
She touched his shoulder.
“You’re trying to build a football career.
Don’t spend the whole career trying to convince yourself you belong.”
She opened the car door.
“Go home.
Eat.
Recover.”
Luca nodded.
“And Luca?”
“Yeah?”
“Tomorrow, if you promise me breakfast, show up.”
He smiled.
“I will.”
“Good.”
She got into the car and drove away.
Luca stood on the pavement for a moment.
Then he looked at the time.
10:38.
He still had an afternoon free.
His first instinct was to return to the academy.
He stopped himself.
Instead, he called Elias.
“Hey.”
“What’s up?”
“Want to get food?”
There was silence.
Then Elias laughed.
“Who are you?”
Luca smiled.
“Shut up.”
At 11:12 a.m., Marcus Renner remained at Blackwood.
The academy’s main training pitch had emptied.
He stood alone near the penalty area.
A scout watched from the far side of the field.
Marcus took another shot.
Saved.
He collected the rebound.
Shot again.
Wide.
He cursed quietly.
A staff member called from the sideline.
“Enough.”
Marcus ignored him.
Another shot.
Post.
The ball struck the upright with a sharp metallic sound.
Marcus stood still.
The confidence from breakfast was gone.
The golden boy stared at the goal.
He had scored six legitimate goals in five competitive matches.
Scouts were watching.
Victor wanted him in senior sessions.
His future appeared brighter than most players his age could imagine.
Yet every missed shot still felt enormous.
Marcus retrieved the ball.
He placed it again.
This time, he didn’t shoot.
He passed it back to the staff member.
“I’m done.”
He walked away.
For all the attention surrounding him, Marcus knew something Luca had not yet learned.
Being highly rated did not remove pressure.
It simply changed its shape.
At 3:24 p.m., Luca sat in a small restaurant with Elias.
Elias had spent most of the meal explaining why he was certain Marcus would eventually play professionally.
“He’s ridiculous.”
Luca nodded.
“He’s good.”
“Very.”
“You sound jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.”
Elias pointed his fork at him.
“You are a little jealous.”
Luca thought about it.
“Maybe.”
“That’s healthy.”
“Is it?”
“Depends what you do with it.”
Luca looked out the window.
Marcus was ahead.
Ryan was ahead in the right-wing battle.
Other academy players were already attracting attention.
Luca’s path was slower.
That didn’t mean it was over.
He finished eating.
For once, he didn’t rush.
At 7:46 p.m., Luca returned to his room.
His body was tired.
His ankle was slightly stiff again.
He didn’t train.
He showered, stretched lightly, prepared his clothes for tomorrow, and set an alarm.
Then he opened his notebook.
Today’s observations were still fresh.
Right wing.
Early cross.
Acceleration after first touch.
Don’t force final pass.
Track recovery runs.
He paused.
Then wrote:
Ryan is ahead.
Luca stared at the sentence.
He didn’t cross it out.
There was no shame in admitting it.
Ryan was ahead.
Marcus was ahead.
That was the reality.
The point of the ninety days wasn’t to pretend otherwise.
It was to close the distance.
His phone vibrated.
Aurora.
«Home?»
Luca replied.
«Yes.»
«Did you train again?»
He smiled.
«No.»
A minute passed.
«Good.»
Then:
«Proud of you.»
Luca set the phone down.
At 9:18 p.m., another notification appeared.
[PLAYER DEVELOPMENT SYSTEM]
Evaluation Day: 5/90
Days Remaining: 85
Match/Training Analysis Complete.
Primary Position: Right Wing
Development Trend: Positive — Early Stage
Observed Improvements:
More natural body orientation.
Improved acceleration timing.
Better use of width.
Increased attacking connection with central forward.
Observed Weaknesses:
Final-third decision consistency.
Defensive transition awareness.
Repeated-sprint efficiency.
Positional confidence under pressure.
Development Status: Insufficient Data
Luca read the final line twice.
Insufficient data.
Five days.
That was all.
Five days wasn’t enough to rewrite his career.
It was enough to begin.
He closed the System window.
Outside, Blackwood City continued moving.
Cars passed beneath his window.
Music drifted from somewhere down the street.
People were finishing shifts, meeting friends, arguing, laughing, worrying about bills, preparing for tomorrow.
Football was only one part of the city.
It happened to be Luca’s part.
He lay back on the bed.
Marcus was the golden boy.
Ryan was the established winger.
Luca was the player trying to prove he belonged.
For now, those were simply facts.
Tomorrow, they could change.
But not because the world owed him anything.
Because he would have to make them change.
Evaluation Day 5 of 90.
85 days remained.