Harbinger Of Glory

”Leo?” Sofia’s voice came, threaded with surprise.

”Yeah, it’s me.” He walked briskly toward the outer gate, tucking his chin low. ”Where are you?”

”We’re still here. Parking lot. Mia wouldn’t stop talking about the game, so we haven’t left yet.”

A laugh escaped him. ”That sounds about right.”

”You coming over?” she asked.

”Yes.”

”Okay. Just... don’t get mobbed on the way.”

”Working on it,” Leo replied, tugging his hood over his head and pulling it forward until most of his face was shadowed.

The adrenaline of the match had faded, replaced now by the odd, buzzing tension of slipping unseen among the very people chanting his number an hour earlier.

He threaded through the thinning clusters of fans, nodding once when someone glanced his way but not enough to spark recognition.

The parking lot opened in front of him, cars blinking headlights as they reversed out, voices still crackling with leftover excitement.

It didn’t take long to spot them.

Sofia stood by the curb, arms crossed, smiling faintly at something Mia was acting out with wild gestures.

The little girl mimed a flick of the foot, then spun as if she were Calderón himself, turning away from defenders.

Sofia’s laughter carried in the night.

Leo’s chest eased at the sight, and he lifted a hand in a small wave, but the ease of it didn’t last.

Because just off to the side of them stood someone else.

A man.

Broader in the shoulders, heavier set, hands buried in his coat pockets.

He wasn’t joining in Mia’s chatter or Sofia’s laugh; he was just there, watching, calm in a way that made him stand out more than if he’d been loud.

The glow of the parking lot lamps cut across his face, and Leo caught enough to feel the recognition stir.

He didn’t know the name, not yet, but he knew.

Something about the man’s stillness, the way his eyes carried depth that looked to have seen plenty.

The way he seemed too rooted, too deliberate to be just another parent or straggler.

Leo’s brow tightened, the wave dropping as his hand slipped back into his jacket pocket.

For a moment, his stride slowed, almost stalling.

Then, with a quiet breath, he pressed forward again.

Step by step, the distance closed, his frown lingering as his eyes stayed locked on the man beside his family.

Noah turned as Leo finally reached them.

His shoulders shifted, heavy coat brushing with the movement.

He didn’t offer a handshake.

Instead, he stepped forward, closed the last bit of space, and tapped Leo’s arm with a light punch.

”You should’ve scored,” he said, matter-of-fact, voice low and steady.

Then he glanced at Mia. ”And you should’ve done the celebration she asked for,”

Leo blinked at him, the frown half-returning before slipping into a crooked smirk.

He crouched slightly toward Mia.

”You think it’s easy to score a goal?” he asked, eyebrows lifted.

Mia crossed her arms, pretending to think hard before shaking her head, grin wide.

Leo stood again, turning toward Sofia.

His expression changed, less teasing, more pointed.

He didn’t need to speak; the question was already in his eyes.

Sofia looked between her brother and the man, then cleared her throat.

”Sorry, uh... who did you say you were again?”

Noah didn’t flinch.

He dug a hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a business card, edges bent and creased, like it had been carried too long without care and handed it to her.

Sofia read it quickly, lips parting, then passed it over to Leo.

The name was printed across the top with a title below it and a number.

Nothing flashy.

”Right,” Noah said, filling the silence.

His tone was steady, but there was no gloss to it, no sales pitch polish.

”I’m Noah Sarin. I work with players, guide their careers, negotiate when needed, and connect them with the right people. That’s the job or the description of what I do.”

He nodded at the card now in Leo’s hand, then lifted his eyes back to him.

”But I didn’t come here to hand out paper. I came because I wanted to see you play. To see if what I’ve seen glimpses of had weight.”

He paused, then added with a shrug, ”It did.”

The words hung there, heavier than the night air, as Sofia’s hand found Mia’s shoulder and Leo looked from the card back to the man standing in front of him.

Leo looked at the card in his hand, thumb rubbing against its worn edge, then raised his eyes.

”So... what? You want to be my agent?”

Noah shook his head slowly, almost amused.

”Agent? No. An agent’s job ends with contracts and signatures. I just told you, I work with players, guide them and open doors. That’s the description. But if that’s all it was, I wouldn’t be here.”

He tucked his hands back into his coat pockets.

”Before anything else, I need to see if you’re worth gambling my life on. And more than that... I want a friend. A brother. Someone who won’t throw me under the bus when things get messy. Someone who won’t cut me off when the shiny offers come. Won’t cut the rope when offers, the kind that ask you to sell your soul, or worse, someone else’s come.”

Leo’s brow furrowed.

”Gambling your life?” he asked, but Noah didn’t mind him, and Leo didn’t say anything.

He just stared at him, expression caught between suspicion and curiosity.

”What I saw today,” Noah went on, his voice levelling out, ”was good. Better than good. But I can’t bet everything on one game. One flash. That’s not how this works.”

He tapped his chest lightly with a closed fist.

”I’ll be here, in town, watching. That’s how I’ll know.”

His shoulders lifted with a faint, almost sheepish chuckle.

”I came up from Portsmouth for this. Haven’t even had a proper wash yet. Straight here. All for you.”

Leo finally let a smirk creep onto his face.

”You sound very confident. You know that? Usually, the most confident ones end up being scams.”

Noah smiled at that, a small, tired smile that carried more truth than bravado.

”Trust me — I toned the confidence down for you. If I turned it all the way up, you’d already be walking away.”

He let the words hang, gave Leo a nod, then stepped back.

”I want you to forget this for now, but not entirely. Keep me in the back of your head because I know this isn’t the last time we talk.”

And with that, Noah turned, coat shifting with the night breeze as he walked away across the parking lot while Leo watched him go, still holding the battered card in his hand.

Noah’s figure grew smaller as he disappeared between the cars, his dark coat swallowed by the dim glow of the parking lot lamps.

The echo of his last words still lingered heavily and kept sounding in Leo’s head as he couldn’t quite shake it off.

For a moment, none of them spoke.

It was just the faint hum of engines starting up, the shuffle of feet on gravel, and the distant laughter of fans still riding the high of Wigan’s win.

Then Mia broke it, tilting her head toward where Noah had gone.

”He looked cool,” she said simply, then gave her stomach a small pat. ”But I’m hungry.”

Leo glanced at her, the edge of a smirk tugging at his lips.

”I know, right. He could have been a war leader with all that talk if he had been born a couple of centuries earlier.”

Sofia exhaled through her nose, half a laugh, half agreement. ”Fair point.”

She turned back to Leo, her voice softening. ”You coming with us?”

He shook his head, hands slipping into the pockets of his jacket.

”Not tonight. I’ll come by tomorrow, though. I’m not playing the cup game, so... I’ll have time.”

Sofia studied him for a second, as if she wanted to say more, but then just nodded. ”Alright.”

Mia was already turning toward the car, tugging on Sofia’s sleeve and pulling her along.

”Come on, I’m starving.”

”Yeah, yeah,” Sofia murmured, following after her.

Leo stayed where he was, leaning back slightly on his heels, watching them go.

The taillights flared as the car doors shut, then the engine came alive, red glow washing across his face for a heartbeat before the vehicle rolled out of the lot and into the night.

He stood there a while longer, the cold air brushing against his hood with Noah’s card still tucked in his palm.

A man he didn’t know and didn’t quite trust, and a promise he didn’t fully understand.

”He talks really well,” Leo said with a chuckle and then turned, slipping the card into his pocket, before slipping on his hood and turning towards the underground parking lot of the stadium.

A/N: I should be working on the oher novel but then a voice, (one of the readers), told me to release, or he’s releasing my address so here I am. Bye.