The locker room was quiet. Most players had already left. A few were still stuffing clothes into bags.
Demien grabbed his bag from his locker and walked to the showers.
The hot water hit his shoulders. He let it run, washing away the sweat and grass stains. His muscles ached in a good way. The kind of tired that came after playing well.
His mind kept replaying moments from the match. The assists. The goals. The system notification flickering in his vision.
He’d proven something today. Not just to the scouts. To himself. Thɪs chapter is updated by 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝•𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾•𝘯𝘦𝘵
When he finished, he wrapped a towel around his waist. Water dripped down his back as he walked to his room. The hallway was getting louder now. Players coming back from showers, talking, laughing, bags zipping.
Demien pushed open his door and started pulling clothes from his bag.
He was halfway through packing when the door opened.
Luca walked in. His hair was still wet. He glanced at Demien’s bag and raised an eyebrow.
"Where were you?" Luca asked. "Coach said everyone needs to meet on the pitch after showers."
"Oh." Demien zipped his bag. "Yeah, I’m done already. Just wrapping up."
Luca leaned against the doorframe. A grin spread across his face.
"I still can’t believe Atalanta approached you. That’s huge, man."
Demien shrugged. He tried to keep it casual. "You got approached too, right?"
"Yeah." Luca’s grin got wider. "Some agent came up to me. Said his name was Marco."
Demien looked up. "Marco Benetti?"
"Yeah. You know him?"
Luca’s eyes went wide. "For real?"
"Yeah. Good guy. He knows his stuff."
Luca crossed his arms. He looked like he was thinking hard. "Well, if he’s your agent, I might as well say yes. Can’t be bad if you trust him."
Demien nodded. "He’ll look after you. He’s professional. Actually cares about his players."
"Good to hear." Luca paused. "I saw loads of people getting approached. Sampdoria talked to Matteo and two other guys."
Luca tilted his head. "What about you? You must’ve had offers from everyone. Which one did you pick?"
"Just two," Demien said. "Atalanta and Sampdoria. I went with Atalanta."
Luca’s face lit up. "Wait, for real? So we’re both going to the trial?"
Luca laughed. He stepped forward and clapped Demien on the shoulder.
"Man, that’s perfect. Where do you live anyway?"
Demien smiled. "Small world."
"We need to meet up when we get back," Luca said. His voice got excited. "Hang out before the trial starts. Maybe train together or something."
Luca checked his phone. "Alright, I need to shower. Don’t leave without saying bye, yeah?"
Luca disappeared into the bathroom. The water started running.
Demien finished packing. He zipped his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and walked out.
Outside, the evening air felt cooler. The floodlights were still on. They threw long shadows across the grass.
All twenty four players stood near the center circle. Some were in groups, talking and smiling. Others looked tired. A few looked disappointed.
Coach Mancini stood in front with his hands on his hips.
Demien found a spot near the back. He set his bag down.
The coach clapped his hands once. Everyone looked up.
"Alright, listen up," Mancini said. His voice carried across the pitch. "I’m happy I got to meet you all these past two days. Short time, but I’m glad I could coach you."
He paused. His eyes moved across their faces.
"I know some of you didn’t get selected. That doesn’t mean you stop. Keep working. Keep pushing. Football’s a long road. This is just one stop."
A few players nodded. Their faces shifted. Less heavy.
"For those who got selected," Mancini continued, "congratulations. You’ve got trials with Serie A, Serie B, or Serie C teams. But you’re not on their roster yet. You still need to impress them. You still need to earn your contract."
He let that settle. Then he smiled.
"Out of twenty four players, fourteen got selected. That’s a record. Usually it’s five or seven max. You guys did well."
Everyone clapped. The sound echoed.
Mancini’s eyes landed on Demien.
"Demien," he said. His voice got warmer. "I want to see you at the top. Do whatever it takes. I’ll stay in touch."
The group clapped again. Louder this time.
Demien nodded. The coach’s words sat heavy on him. Like a promise.
Mancini stepped back. He waved his hand.
"You’re dismissed. Safe travels. Good luck."
Players started moving. Some went back to the locker rooms. Others headed to the parking lot.
Demien grabbed his bag and went inside for the rest of his things.
Ten minutes later, he met Marco near the parking area.
Marco was leaning against a silver sedan. He was scrolling through his phone. When he saw Demien, he put it away and opened the trunk.
"Throw your bag in," Marco said.
Demien tossed it inside. He climbed into the passenger seat.
Marco started the engine. It hummed to life.
Demien looked around. The interior was clean. Well kept.
"Where’d you rent this from?" Demien asked.
Marco laughed. "None of your business."
Demien smirked. He leaned back.
"By the way," Demien said, "Luca said he’s going to sign with you, and he lives in Florence too."
Marco nodded. He pulled out of the parking lot. "That’s good. I heard he accepted Atalanta’s offer. When we get back, I’ll call him to start the contract. I’ll handle the Atalanta paperwork for both of you."
"Next week Monday morning. One week from today."
Demien nodded. He watched the dark road ahead.
They drove in silence for a bit. The engine hummed. It filled the quiet between them.
Eventually, Marco pulled into the airport parking lot.
The terminal entrance was quiet. Only a few people moved through the automatic doors.
Marco turned off the engine. He looked at Demien.
"This is it," he said. "Next stop, Florence. Then Atalanta."
Demien grabbed his bag from the trunk. He slung it over his shoulder.
They walked toward the terminal together. Side by side.
The departure board flickered ahead. Their flight number glowed on the screen.