Harbinger Of Glory

Dawson finally clapped his hands together, the sound sharp enough to cut through the quiet hum of shifting chairs and shuffling papers.

”That will be all for today,” he said, voice carrying authority as he glanced at the clock behind the players, sighing once he saw the time.

”It wasn’t in the plans, but we’ve run longer than we planned, so I’ll let you all go before I’m accused of holding you hostage.”

A few muted chuckles rose in the room as he gestured toward the door where the hallway light bled in, casting a pale rectangle across the carpet.

”Drills will wait until tomorrow. But I want all of you here early. Don’t come dragging in when the sun’s already overhead.”

His eyes swept the room, daring anyone to make light of it, and it seemed his message had gone clear.

”See you tomorrow,” he said, and one by one the players began filing out, the buzz of quiet conversations rising as they spilt into the corridor.

Leo stayed back just long enough to close the leather-bound handbook he’d been jotting in, the same one he carried religiously during tactical sessions.

He tucked it under his arm and pushed himself up from the chair, angling toward the exit with his usual quiet efficiency.

But before he could reach the door, Dawson’s voice stopped him.

”Leo.”

The boy froze mid-step, half turning.

Dawson stood at the far end of the room, hands resting lightly on the edge of the table.

His expression softened, though there was still a weight in his eyes that made Leo step back inside.

”Yes, coach?”

Dawson tilted his head. ”Haven’t seen you much after the Blackpool game. How are you?”

Leo blinked, caught off guard. ”I’m... good. Fine.”

”And the one-on-one sessions with Coach Thompson?” Dawson pressed, tone even but curious.

”They’ve been helpful,” Leo admitted.

”Tiring sometimes, but... I think I’m learning things I didn’t even realise I needed. He’s got this way of breaking things down for me, like layers I didn’t see before. It’s been good.”

Dawson nodded slowly, his gaze holding steady on the boy before silence stretched between them.

For a moment, it felt as if Dawson was weighing something unspoken, the kind of pause that made Leo shift the handbook against his side.

Then, unexpectedly, Dawson’s shoulders shook and a laugh broke from him, low and rough.

”You should’ve heard the backlash after the Millwall game,” he said, amusement lacing his words.

”I swear, I had more angry messages in one night than I’ve had in years. All because you didn’t play.”

He shook his head, still chuckling.

”Three, maybe four games off the bench, all solid performance... and suddenly you are a fan favourite. Football is weird.”

Leo couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips.

”And maybe I should’ve brought you to that Millwall game after all,” Dawson added, laughter lingering in his voice.

”You did what was best for the team. I can’t like that I didn’t want to play, but you made a choice that you thought was good for the team.” Leo said quietly, shaking his head.

”If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I’d even realise how good I could be. Or that I could be valuable to any team.”

The sincerity in his tone caught Dawson for a moment.

He didn’t reply with words right away.

Instead, he stepped forward, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s hair in a way that made Leo grimace but didn’t pull away.

”Come on,” Dawson said, slinging an arm around his shoulders as they began walking toward the door together.

”You’ll make me sound like some kind of saviour if you keep talking like that.”

”You kind of are, at least mine,” Leo muttered, though there was a half-smile on his face.

Dawson grinned down at him, then asked with a teasing lift of his brow, ”And how’s Sofia, hm?”

Leo immediately nudged him in the ribs with his elbow, groaning. ”If you want to know, call her yourself.”

Their voices trailed off as they disappeared down the corridor, the coach’s laughter rumbling alongside Leo’s exasperated protest, fading into the late afternoon quiet.

.....

Noah Sarin stirred in the dim hotel room, with the light emanating from the gap between the ajar bathroom door and the frame waking him up fully, from his what he thought was going to be a quick nap in the afternoon.

He glanced at his watch and saw that it was only a few minutes past seven before he flopped back onto the bed.

For a moment, he lay still, staring at the ceiling, his mind sluggishly catching up with itself.

Then, with a low chuckle, he exhaled through his nose and rubbed at his eyes.

”Always the same dream,” he muttered, voice rough with sleep.

”Other agents swooping in, signing him before I can...”

He let the sentence trail off, shaking his head as he pushed himself upright against the headboard.

It couldn’t wait any longer.

He swung his legs out of bed, reaching for the phone on the nightstand.

The screen lit his face with its soft glow before clicking the phone icon, and there it was on the dial, the name he had scrolled over more times than he cared to admit, thumb hovering like a man about to roll dice in a casino.

Nolan.

”Please don’t change it,” he whispered under his breath as he pressed the call button.

The line began to ring.

”Please don’t change it...”

He said it again, almost like a charm, but before the words could leave his mouth a third time, a click interrupted him.

”Hello?”

Relief washed out of him in a long sigh before he composed himself, his voice coming off a bit bashful.

”You’ve got to be kidding me... how in the world do you still use the same number after ten years, Nolan?”

On the other end came a soft chuckle, unmistakably familiar.

”Why would I change it? Never lost a phone and never saw the need. But hang on, who am I even talking to?”

Noah blinked, realising he hadn’t introduced himself.

”Right, sorry. It’s Noah. Noah Sarin.”

Silence stretched a beat too long.

Then Nolan’s side warmed with laughter, half disbelieving.

”You bastard,” he said, the words not harsh but tinged with old fondness.

”I was wondering when you’d crawl out of the shadows. Been waiting since that email you sent to my office, pestering for stats and tabs on Leo.”

Noah laughed, rubbing at the back of his neck.

”Well, consider this me crawling out. That email was the knock, this is the door.”

”Uh-huh,” Nolan said, amused.

”So how have you been?” Noah inquired as Nolan proceeded to heave all the air in him over the phone.

”It’s been good. Stable and not flashy as yours used to be, but it is good, and better for my wife, who thought I was going around too much when I was trying to be an agent like you.”

”Don’t lie to me or to yourself, Nolan. You do not have a wife,” Noah said with a chuckle as a ”damnit” proceeded from the other side.

”I thought I could at least sneak that one past you,” Nolan said before both sides went quiet.

In his room, Noah hesitated for half a second, thinking for a bit, before he went in.

”Listen, do you think you could help me get in touch with him? Leo, I mean. I gave him my card when we met, but I never took his number... or his aunt’s. Figured you could be the man to ask.”

A loud breath sounded on the line, Nolan exhaling heavily as though weighing the ask, until his voice came back, even but edged.

”I’ll have to check with the boy first. If he’s fine with it, you know. Can’t just be giving his number to just anyone, no offence.”

”Ouch, but fair. And that is good too,” Noah said quickly. ”I’ll wait for news from you.”

On the other end, Nolan gave a short scoff.

”So after all this, what you really want from me is a favour.”

Noah smiled wryly, leaning back into the headboard.

”Guilty as charged. But I’ll sweeten the deal. I’ll be at the DW for the Sunderland game, and I’ll buy you a drink after. Proper one.”

That earned a short laugh from Nolan.

”Alright then. We’ll see.”

”Thanks, Nolan,” Noah said before the call clicked off, the screen fading to black in Noah’s hand.

He let out a long sigh, staring at the ceiling before letting himself flop backwards onto the bed.

”Why do I love this sport... and this job... so damn much?” he muttered, the words drifting lazily into the quiet room.

Rolling over onto his side, he settled into the pillow and within moments, the tension had bled out of him, and sleep pulled him back under.

.....

”Haahhhh, Noah. It really is nice to hear that you are still you, and well,” Nolan, on the other side of things, said before putting his phone in the cupholder in his car.

He rolled up the windows, cutting off the cool breeze that had been going in and out of his car before starting it and then making his way out of the Wigan parking lot for the day.