Leon walked over, his excitement practically radiating. "The scouts were there. From Aston Villa, Crystal Palace, RB Leipzig. And… and the Aston Villa scout, Mr. Davies, he invited me for a trial. Tomorrow! At their academy!"
His mother's eyes widened, her book sliding forgotten to her lap.
"Aston Villa? Truly? Oh, Leon!" A hand flew to her mouth, tears instantly welling up in her eyes. "My boy! My wonderful boy!"
She got up and pulled him into a fierce hug, holding him so tightly he could barely breathe. Leon hugged her back, burying his face in her shoulder, feeling the pure, unadulterated love pouring from her. This was what he fought for. This was why he pushed.
"And Byon too!" he added, pulling back slightly to look at her. "They invited Byon as well!"
His mother beamed, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. "That's wonderful! Oh, I always knew you had it in you. Always!" She squeezed his hand. "Go on, get some rest. You need to be sharp tomorrow. I'll iron your best kit."
Leon nodded, his heart full. "Thanks, Mom. For everything."
He went to his room, the feeling of elation still bubbling inside him. He laid out his cleanest training clothes, polished his cleats until they gleamed, and set his alarm. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, but sleep felt a million miles away. His mind replayed Mr. Davies's words, the feeling of the Aston Villa card in his hand.
The next morning, the sun was a bright, eager circle in the sky, chasing away any lingering doubts. Leon woke before his alarm, a nervous energy buzzing through him. He ate a quick breakfast his mother had insisted on preparing, kissed her goodbye, and stepped out.
Byon was already waiting on the sidewalk, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his face scrubbed clean, his usual easy grin wider than usual. "Ready, superstar?"
"Born ready," Leon replied, falling into step beside him.
They walked in comfortable silence, their shared anticipation a palpable thing between them. The academy gates they usually passed seemed smaller today, almost an afterthought, as they continued on, following Mr. Davies's directions toward the heart of the city, toward the bigger, grander promise of Aston Villa.
The journey was longer than their usual walk, taking them through bustling streets and past impressive buildings. Finally, as they turned a corner, a sprawling complex came into view. Gleaming modern buildings, perfectly manicured pitches stretching out under the morning sun, and a giant crest proudly displayed on the main gate.
Aston Villa Football Club Academy.
Leon felt a lump form in his throat. This was it.
A security guard waved them through after checking their names on a list. Inside, the sheer scale of the place was overwhelming. Other young players, some looking confident, others nervous, milled around, dressed in various training gear. They looked older, stronger, more refined than the kids at their old academy.
"Whoa," Byon breathed, his eyes wide. "This is a whole other level."
Leon nodded, his gaze sweeping over the faces around them. His internal sight activated automatically. He saw the numbers shimmering above various players.
A tall, lanky midfielder with incredible poise: Potential: 92, Current: 75.
He moved with a grace Leon rarely saw.
A muscular defender with a serious expression: Potential: 89, Current: 73.
And a lightning-fast winger, already juggling a ball with dazzling skill:
Potential: 91, Current: 76. These were top-tier talents, even at their age.
He felt a tiny flicker of the old fear—the feeling of being outmatched. But then he remembered his vow. No fear. This was a challenge. And he loved a challenge.
They found a registration desk, checked in, and were directed to a changing room. It was spacious, clean, with rows of lockers. More trialists were already there, some chatting loudly, others quietly taping their ankles.
"Alright, lads," a deep voice boomed. A man with a stern but kind face, wearing an Aston Villa tracksuit, walked in. "Welcome to Bodymoor Heath. My name is Coach Miller. For the next few hours, we're going to see what you've got."
He gestured to a door. "Head out to Pitch 3. We'll start with some warm-ups, then we'll get straight into some drills, and then, a proper match." His eyes scanned the room, lingering for a moment on Leon and Byon. "Show us why you deserve to be here."
Leon exchanged a glance with Byon. This was it. The real test. They quickly changed, the new Aston Villa training kit feeling surprisingly comfortable, a symbol of their burgeoning dreams.
As they stepped onto the lush green of Pitch 3, the morning sun fully illuminating the field, Leon's eyes instantly found the figures gathered on the sidelines. More scouts. And among them, a familiar, stern face. Mr. Davies from Aston Villa.