Harbinger Of Glory

The accommodation wing was quiet when Leo reached it, suggesting everyone was either in a tactical meeting or had already headed home after an early session.

He reached his door after moving through the familiar corridor, slid the keycard, and stepped inside.

Nothing had moved since he left.

The room was still tidy, still organised in the way he preferred it.

He rolled his suitcase into the corner by the wardrobe and dropped his backpack onto the bed before letting himself fall right beside it.

The mattress dipped under his weight, and for a moment, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling.

He checked his phone and saw that it was a little past five.

He muttered something about resting for a few minutes, then let his eyes drift shut, but the few minutes turned into a couple of hours.

The knock on the door jolted him awake.

He blinked into the dim room, confused, then pushed himself upright and glanced toward the window.

Outside, the sky had already sunk into darkness.

His phone read 7:27 after he looked at it, before another knock came, sharper this time.

Leo pushed off the bed, ran a hand over his face and walked over to the door before opening it.

Jake and Ezra stood outside.

Jake stepped forward and gave him a light punch to the chest as he walked in, grinning like he had been waiting all day for this moment.

”Welcome back,” Ezra said, taking a calmer step into the room.

Jake shook his head at Leo.

”You know what hurts? You didn’t even tell me you were here.”

Leo closed the door behind them and sighed.

”I can’t deal with you right now. I’ve had enough antics from the past few days, so don’t start it.”

Jake clutched his chest dramatically.

”So who took my spot? Tell me. Who is it?”

Leo ignored him completely and flopped back onto the bed, letting the pillow catch the back of his head while Ezra leaned against the desk.

”How’d the call-up go?”

”It was okay,” Leo said.

Ezra let out a low chuckle.

”Coach Thompson showed us an article earlier. Didn’t look like an ’okay’ performance to me.”

Leo turned his head toward him, a faint grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

”It’s Propaganda. Italian media just wanted someone to blame when things went wrong. The new kid who isn’t actually Italian? Easy choice.”

Ezra nodded, amused, while Leo shifted and sat up a little. ”Where’s my PS5?”

”In our apartment,” Ezra said. ”I wanted to bring it, but you know how Jake is.”

Leo raised a brow at Jake, who had just come out of the bathroom.

”So, when are you finally going to start looking for your own place?”

Leo shrugged. ”Got nine months more before my time is up. I am in no rush.”

Ezra snorted.

”We’ll see.”

Leo reached over to the bedside where he had left his phone after the two knocked and grabbed it.

The screen lit up, and he started scrolling through the food apps without much thought, with Jake pacing around like he couldn’t stay still for more than ten seconds.

After a moment, he leaned over the bed a little. ”You ordering food?”

Leo looked up at him with a blank expression.

”I was. But now that you asked, I’m thinking of not doing it anymore.”

Jake put a hand to his chest like he’d been wronged. ”Wow. What are friends for?”

Leo shook his head, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a tired smile.

”You make friendship feel like a disease.”

Jake grinned back. ”Still doesn’t answer my question.”

Leo sighed and turned the phone so the light wasn’t in his face.

”Fine. What do you want?”

”That’s what I am talking about,” Jake said while rubbing his hands together.

....

Morning crept into the room through the thin gap in the curtains.

Leo blinked himself awake, lying still for a moment as the quiet of the early hour settled around him.

His eyes adjusted slowly, and the first thing he saw was Jake on the floor near the bed.

Jake was sprawled out like he’d lost a battle in his sleep with a single napkin draped across his chest as if someone had tried to ”cover” him as a joke.

Leo didn’t need to guess who had done it.

Ezra, who was knocked out on the couch with one leg hanging off.

Leo stayed there for a second, staring at Jake’s peaceful yet stupid-looking sleeping face.

The grogginess of the morning hadn’t faded yet, so he moved slowly as he reached for his phone.

He unlocked it, aimed the camera, and quietly snapped a photo.

The click was barely audible, but Jake still twitched like he was telling Leo to stop.

Leo smirked and set his phone down, then dragged his feet to the bathroom.

After brushing, he stepped back into the room, grabbed a fresh pair of socks, and slid his shoes on.

He opened the door, and the cold morning air hit him like a slap.

It was sharp enough to make him consider turning around and going back inside under the covers.

For a moment, he lingered there at the doorstep, staring at the quiet complex wrapped in mist.

”It’s a necessary step to becoming better,” he muttered to himself before he stepped forward and let the door close behind him.

....

Away from the accommodation wing, Dawson walked into the staff building, offering quiet greetings to the staff he passed.

Most of them were still shaking off the morning, clutching coffees or sorting through the first emails of the day.

He pushed open the door to his office, hung his jacket on the back of the chair, and settled into his seat.

The screen on his desk was still showing the Championship table from the night before.

Wigan sat in tenth, steady but not quite where he wanted the team to be.

He leaned back and let out a low breath.

”We need to do more,” he muttered.

A knock followed almost immediately, and Nolan stepped inside with a warm greeting.

”Morning,” Dawson replied, shifting his attention.

Nolan went straight into the briefing, laying out the plan for the day’s session, the adjustments they’d try, and how the players had responded yesterday.

Dawson listened, nodding here and there, his expression thoughtful.

”And Leo’s back,” Nolan added near the end, almost in passing but with a faint smile that gave away his own curiosity.

Dawson sat a little straighter, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

”Well, he should be,” he said.

”I’m eager to see what the boy picked up from the Italians these past couple of weeks.”

....

Ezra was still laughing by the time they crossed the walkway that led to the cafeteria.

Leo tried to keep a straight face, but Ezra’s laugh had a way of pulling him along until he gave in too.

Jake followed a few steps back, arms folded, with a sulking expression.

Leo glanced over his shoulder. ”You know you could’ve just told me yourself.”

Jake looked away. ”It was supposed to be a surprise.”

”Training with us,” Leo said, slowing down so Jake could catch up.

”You’re still playing for the under-21s. Not even the twenty-threes.”

Ezra burst out again. ”I told him the same thing. Word for word.”

Jake rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. ”You have gotten arrogant just because you play for them. And Ezra shouldn’t be laughing at me. He’s bouncing between the U23S more often than the senior team.”

”Well, he is still a level above you,” Leo cut in right after Jake finished.

Jake’s façade cracked for a moment.

Annoyed, but also proud.

They reached the cafeteria doors, the usual noise spilling out from the breakfast rush.

Ezra pushed the door open with his shoulder.

”Come on. Before Leo reminds you that you’re still not allowed to have a locker on our side of the dressing room.”

Jake muttered something under his breath, but he walked in with them anyway.

Leo had barely entered when a voice cut through the noise.

”Buongiorno,.”

James Mclean sat at the end of one of the longer tables, leg stretched and wrapped with some ointments.

He lifted his chin toward Leo with a grin that said he’d been waiting to use that line all morning.

Half the room turned while Leo blinked at him. ”That’s all you managed to learn after 2 weeks.”

McLean laughed and opened his arms slightly in a mock shrug. ”Progress is progress.”

Leo made his way over first, ignoring the players already leaning forward for their turn.

He clasped McLean’s hand, firm but careful, then pulled him in for a quick shoulder tap.

”You look bored out of your mind,” Leo said.

”Days feel longer when everyone else is running around,” McLean replied.

”At least now I get to annoy you again.”

Leo smiled. ”I’ll allow it.”

By then, the rest of the boys had stood up or shifted in their seats, waiting for him to come around.

It started with one of the midfielders dragging Leo in for a hug, and soon Leo moved along the table, arms slipping around familiar shoulders one by one.