After the final handshake and some parting smiles, Dawson, Malachi, and Jones rose from the table.
Sofía walked them to the door, exchanging a few last pleasantries while Leo lingered at the hallway entrance, watching silently as they stepped out into the evening air.
The moment the door closed, a soft thud echoed from the hallway — Mia had practically flung her room door open.
She sprinted up to Leo, her eyes wide with excitement.
"Well?! What was that about? You’re signing with Barcelona or something, aren’t you?! Tell me, tell me!"
Leo laughed and shook his head.
"Come on, let’s sit."
He guided her over to the couch, her eyes still bouncing with questions as she tugged on his arm impatiently.
"Okay, okay..." Leo said with a grin, leaning in as if to whisper.
Outside, the low rumble of a car engine purred as Dawson, Malachi, and Jones climbed into a sleek black sedan parked a few spaces down from the apartment.
Jones adjusted the cuff of his coat, letting out a tired sigh.
"Well, that was pleasant. The kid’s got a smart guardian — I’ll give her that."
Malachi nodded from the passenger seat, glancing at Dawson in the rearview mirror.
Jones continued, his tone shifting.
"Still... you know what the board will say if this gets out. Four thousand a week for an unproven seventeen-year-old? In League One? The club’s barely crawling out of financial survival. If Leo doesn’t produce quickly... people are going to start pointing fingers."
He looked squarely at Dawson.
Dawson didn’t flinch.
He was quiet for a beat, the city lights casting a soft gold across his face.
"If Leo doesn’t make an impact soon," he said calmly, "I’ll walk. No debate, no fuss. I’ll resign my coaching role at Wigan without a second thought."
Jones raised an eyebrow.
"You’re that confident?"
"Yes, and that is me not even betting on his potential," Dawson replied, eyes firm.
"I’m betting on work ethic. And I’ve seen that boy work."
The car rolled off into the night, silence settling over them, heavy with risk, but laced with the faintest trace of belief.
The following morning, the contract was finalized.
Adjustments Sofia had insisted on — from guaranteed medical oversight to educational continuity, performance-based incentives, and limitations on media access — were carefully integrated.
The club’s legal team signed off.
Two days later, Leo, wearing a plain dark hoodie, jeans, and a quiet expression, walked beside Sofia and Mia through Wigan Athletic’s administrative wing.
There were no media personnel, no cameras — just a few friendly nods from staff who recognized Dawson’s young prospect.
The corridor smelled faintly of cleaning polish and fresh turf.
Dawson greeted them at the door with a half-smile and a pat on Leo’s shoulder.
Inside a modest meeting room, Leo sat across from the youth coordinator and club liaison.
One document at a time was handed over, and each time, he looked at Sofia.
She’d give a small nod, her expression unreadable but firm.
Finally, Leo picked up the pen, signed the final page, and handed it back.
And just like that, he was a professional footballer.
No cameras. No press. Just an ordinary formality for an extraordinary leap.
That afternoon, Wigan’s official social channels posted the update with a little flair:
We are pleased to welcome 17-year-old midfielder Leo Calderon to Wigan Athletic’s U21 Development Squad.
Leo joins after a month-long trial, having formerly been part of Manchester United’s academy.
His profile was quietly added to the club’s website — a standard bio and headshot with a short description:
Leo Calderon | Midfielder | Wigan Athletic U21s
But online, the reaction exploded far louder than the post’s tone suggested.
Some fans didn’t hold back:
"Another academy reject from United. That’s what we are now, isn’t it? A recycling bin for cast-offs."
"He better be worth the gamble, because with our books the way they are, any money a week ain’t peanuts."
"This club’s being run like a joke. No first-team depth and we’re investing in pipe dreams."
Others tried to keep the peace:
"Y’all acting like he’s joining the first team tomorrow. Chill. He’s just recently turned 17. It’s a U21 signing."
"People complaining like he walked in and demanded 4000. If the club offered that, they obviously see something."
"Gotta start rebuilding somewhere. Can’t keep relying on loans and fading pros."
"Maybe — just maybe — he’ll surprise us. Calm down and let the boy play."
A few supporters went digging:
"Wait... this kid was dropped by United? Saw a clip of him training, and the kid was decent, but it’s just that, decent."
"Low risk if he stays in U21s. High reward if he breaks through. We’ve had worse deals."
Leo didn’t see any of the comments.
He’d already logged off before the post even went live.
This wasn’t about hype. It never had been.
After everything had been finalized and the documents submitted to the club’s administration, the late afternoon sun dipped behind the clouds above Wigan, casting long shadows across the training complex.
Outside the main building, Sofia, Mia, and Leo stood beside their parked car, preparing to head back to Manchester.
Dawson walked them out personally.
Mia was already in the back seat, clutching a chocolate bar the club liaison had handed her earlier.
Sofia double-checked the route on her phone while Leo stood off to the side, hands in his pockets.
Dawson glanced at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Just so you know," he said lightly, "your contract’s already making waves inside. Word gets out you’re earning that kind of money in the U21s... I wouldn’t be surprised if two or three senior lads start knocking on Jones’s door asking for a raise."
Sofia raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Hope you’re ready for that fallout."
Dawson chuckled, "It’s part of the job. Besides, if Leo does what I think he can, they’ll be the ones asking why they’re not earning more."
Leo blinked, trying not to smile but failing. "Should I be worried?"
"Nah," Dawson replied, waving a hand.
"You just focus on playing your game and doing your part in the U21s. Perform well, and I’ll have you in the first-team training setup before the ink dries on your second paycheck."
He slapped Leo lightly on the shoulder and took a step back as Sofia slid into the driver’s seat.
"We’ll take care of him," Sofia said as she started the car.
"I know," Dawson said. "And now we’ll take care of him here, too."
The car rolled off the gravel lot, tires crunching softly beneath them.
Leo leaned against the window, watching Dawson shrink into the distance.
A/n: Going to release double Chapters today, and no, I do not have free time, I just slept well yesterday. Well, have fun reading.