Harbinger Of Glory

A quarter to an hour later, the projector dimmed to black, leaving the room lit only by the low ceiling lamps.

Rows of chairs creaked as players shifted and stretched, and Marco finally clicked the laptop shut, glancing over the room before speaking.

”Alright, that’s all for today,” he said, while cracking a few of his knuckles.

”I hope you learned something, or at least stayed awake through most of it, because I know how boring this can sometimes get.”

A few players chuckled quietly.

”The main point,” he went on, eyes sweeping across the room, ”is understanding that wearing this badge means discipline first. Talent comes after.”

As he said it, his gaze landed briefly on Leo, who was still hunched over his notebook near the back.

The younger player’s head was tilted down, pen moving in quick scribbles, completely absorbed in what he was writing.

Marco paused for half a second before shaking his head faintly, a small smile tugging at his mouth.

”Anyway,” he said, clapping his hands once, ”that’s it for now. You’ve got about an hour before dinner, so do what you want, stretch, call home or your girlfriends, sleep, whatever. Just don’t vanish into the city.”

That earned another low laugh from a few of them, mostly the older players.

Marco gave a small wave toward the exit before nodding towards the door.

”Go on, get out of here.”

With that, the players rose, flicking their seats up to make way as everyone started filing out.

Some chatted on their way down, others were silent, half-asleep, half-hungry.

From the back, Leo finally capped his pen, flipping his notebook shut with a soft thud.

He stood, slinging it under his arm as he stepped into the aisle and started making his way down the rows.

Marco, who was leaning by the front table, looked up as Leo approached.

”Leo,” he called out, stopping him before he reached the door.

Leo paused, turning slightly. ”Yeah?”

Marco nodded toward the hallway.

”Mr Piatelli wants to see you.”

Leo blinked, a faint sigh slipping through his nose.

”Right now?”

”Now,” Marco said, checking his watch briefly.

”Shouldn’t take long.”

Leo nodded, his expression unreadable.

”Okay,” he said simply, then adjusted his grip on the notebook and stepped out into the hallway, his slides tapping softly against the tiled floor as he walked off.

...

Piatelli’s office was quiet, save for the faint ticking of a small clock on the wall.

The old man sat behind his desk, reading glasses perched low on his nose as he flipped through a few sheets of paper.

When Leo entered, Piatelli glanced up and gave a small, welcoming smile.

”Ah, Leo,” he said, gesturing toward the chair opposite him.

”Come, sit,” he said.

Leo did, setting his notebook on his lap.

Piatelli leaned back in his chair.

”I saw you in training today,” he began. ”You did very well.”

”Thank you, sir,” Leo replied, a touch cautious but polite.

”You’re settling in fine, right?” Piatelli asked, before following up.

”Make any friends yet?”

Leo nodded.

”Yes to the first question, but to the second one, I wouldn’t really say I’ve made any friends, but it’s been good so far. The lads are sound, and the sessions...” He exhaled softly, smiling a little. ”They’re intense. But in a good way.”

”Good,” Piatelli said, his eyes softening with approval. ”Intensity is what we like to see. You seem comfortable.”

”I am,” Leo said, then paused briefly before adding, ”Just... itching to play, you know? Training’s great, but I want to be on the pitch. A real game.”

That drew a grin from Piatelli.

He adjusted his glasses and nodded.

”That’s the right hunger to have. Don’t worry, because it won’t be long. You’ll get your chance soon enough. And when you do, I trust you’ll make good use of it.”

Leo smiled faintly at that. ”I will.”

”Good,” Piatelli said, glancing toward the clock before leaning forward slightly.

”I won’t keep you any longer. Go get some rest before dinner. And listen, if you need anything, or have questions... come see me. Don’t wait around for someone else to ask for you.”

Leo nodded once, standing. ”I appreciate that, sir.”

”Va bene,” Piatelli said, waving a hand lightly. ”Go on, then. And try to learn the language even if it’s in small bits.”

Leo gave a small nod of thanks, turned, and walked out of the room, with the door clicking softly behind him, leaving the office quiet again, the only sound the faint shuffle of papers as Piatelli returned to his desk.

...

By the time Leo made his way to the cafeteria, it was buzzing, but only in pockets.

Most of the tables were half-filled, clusters of players talking over trays and plastic cups.

Laughter here and there, together with bursts of energy that echoed briefly before dying down.

Leo, on the other hand, made his way over to his spot and sat alone, again, at the same table near the corner, back to the wall, phone propped against a salt shaker, before he went for his food when the crowd began to dwindle.

Once back in his seat, he forked the pasta absently, eyes half on his screen as his thumb scrolled through messages and feeds.

Every now and then, his gaze flicked upward and caught a few players glancing his way, not in any unfriendly sense, just curious, like they were still trying to figure him out or do something to break the barrier the new guy or the quiet ones always had.

Leo looked down afterwards and took another bite, eyes back on the phone, scrolling past a text from Noah that read: ” Just reminding you, but don’t forget about the socials. I can also have someone do it for you.”

Leo smirked slightly, shaking his head.

He typed a lazy ”yeah yeah” reply and locked the screen, face dropping back to neutral.

He set the phone down beside his tray, deciding to actually finish the food before it got cold.

The clinking of utensils filled the silence at his table as he rushed to finish his food, drawing more stares to him.

By the time he was down to the last few bites, he heard footsteps approach.

He looked up to see Carlo, hands in pockets, hair still a little damp from his earlier shower.

”Leo,” Carlo said, stopping by the edge of the table.

”We’re heading into town, me, Ricci, Udogie, Ruggeri and a few others. Just a walk, grab something sweet, maybe annoy the locals.”

His grin was light, friendly.

”You coming?”

Leo leaned back slightly, thinking. For a moment, it looked like he might say yes.

He hadn’t really spent time or talked with any of them outside the pitch, so he was really inclined towards the offer.

But then Noah’s text popped into his mind again, the reminder about setting up his social accounts.

Something he’d been putting off, even though Noah said they needed to have it done soon and had even offered for someone to do it, but Leo had refused, citing that he could do it.

He exhaled through his nose, a faint smile breaking through.

”I’d love to,” he said, voice low, almost apologetic, ”but my agent’s been on my neck about some stuff. Need to get that sorted before he hunts me down.”

Carlo nodded knowingly.

”Ah, work before play.”

”Pretty much,” Leo said, smiling faintly now.

”Next time, though, yeah?”

”Next time,” Carlo agreed, straightening up.

”We’ll probably just walk around, maybe find a place for gelato or something. Nothing crazy.”

Leo nodded.

”Still sounds good. Have fun.”

Carlo gave a mock salute.

”Will do.”

He turned and walked back to his table, mouthing something to the others as he pointed a thumb in Leo’s direction.

The group looked over briefly, at Leo offering a few nods and shrugs, before they began picking up their trays.

Leo watched them as they got up, all easy smiles and inside jokes, plates clinking as they carried them to the drop-off counter.

The sound of their sneakers faded as they exited the cafeteria in a small group, the glass doors swinging shut behind them.

When it was quiet again, Leo looked around.

Most of the tables were empty now, just a few staff members clearing up near the far end.

He pushed his chair back, grabbed his tray, and walked toward the return area. His slides made soft, dragging sounds against the floor.

He dropped the tray off, gave a polite nod to the woman behind the counter, and then turned toward the exit.

The air outside the cafeteria was cooler, but it was a bit noisy as most of the players still lingered around.

He adjusted the notebook he had kept with himself even after the session, under his arm, checked his phone once more, and began the short walk back toward his room, a few players nodding towards him slowly but surely.