"Did he just... did he just say Aston Villa?" Byon's voice was a shaky whisper, his eyes wide and glued to the spot where Mr. Davies, the scout, had just disappeared.
Leon gripped the small card tighter, the embossed crest of Aston Villa feeling impossibly real under his thumb. "He did. And for both of us." A thrill shot through him, a jolt of pure, unadulterated joy that made his chest ache.
Byon let out a whoop, a sudden burst of pure, uncontainable happiness, and clapped Leon hard on the back.
"Leon! We're going to a real academy! Aston Villa! This is insane!" He started bouncing on the balls of his feet, his exhaustion forgotten.
"Oh my gosh, my mum is going to freak out! She's gonna bake a cake, probably two cakes!"
Leon chuckled, a genuine, bubbling laugh. "Mine too, probably. Come on, let's go tell them."
The walk home felt different. The familiar gravel path seemed to glow under the faint streetlights, the air buzzing with an invisible energy. They talked a mile a minute, their voices barely above excited whispers, planning out their future at Aston Villa.
"Imagine, Leon," Byon said, still grinning, "playing on pitches that look like velvet! Training with actual academy coaches, not just... well, you know." He gestured vaguely back at their old academy, affectionately.
"And better competition," Leon added, his mind already spinning with the possibilities. "Players with high Potential and Current scores, pushing us every day." The thought made a shiver of anticipation run through him. He couldn't wait to see what kind of talent he'd encounter.
"Exactly!" Byon punched the air. "We'll be unstoppable. The dynamic duo, but for real this time!"
They reached their usual crossroads, the one that split toward their homes. As Byon veered off with a final, enthusiastic wave, "See you tomorrow, partner in glory! Don't be late!" Leon felt a warmth spread through him. This journey, this second chance, was even better shared.
He practically floated up the steps to his front door, the key turning with an almost magical click. The house was quiet, just as he'd left it. But the lingering scent of roasted chicken, his mother's careful note beside the covered plate of pasta—it all wrapped around him like a hug.
"Eat well, sleep early. I believe in you. Love, Mom."
He picked up the note, a small, knowing smile touching his lips. His mom always knew. He warmed the pasta, the silence of the kitchen amplifying the thumping of his own heart. This wasn't just good news; it was a validation of all her sacrifices, all her quiet belief in him.
When he finished eating, Leon went upstairs. He found his mother in the living room, reading under a soft lamp. She looked up, her face tired but her eyes warm.
"How was the session, dear?" she asked, her voice gentle.
Leon took a deep breath, the words forming a lump in his throat. "Mom," he started, then paused, a huge grin breaking through. "Mom, something incredible happened."
Her eyebrows rose, a hint of curiosity in her expression. "Oh? Tell me."