Harbinger Of Glory

Near one of the many pitches in the Wigan complex, a few cones still lay scattered across the grass from their earlier drills.

Ezra leaned against the fence, arms crossed, eyes on Leo.

”So,” he began casually, ”when do you leave?”

Leo adjusted the strap of his gym bag on his shoulder, squinting a little against the light.

”Day after tomorrow,” he said as Ezra nodded.

Before the a reply could come, Jake’s voice sounded from behind, loud and dramatic as always.

”Day after tomorrow, he says,” Jake exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.

”You haven’t even apologized for betraying the motherland!”

Ezra turned his head, shaking his head at something he was getting tired of.

”Oh no, here we go again.”

Jake pointed an accusing finger at Leo, his expression somewhere between mock outrage and genuine disbelief.

”For all England’s done for you, Leo! For the land that raised you, the tea that made you, the Premier League dreams that shaped you—”

Leo turned around, unimpressed.

”Jake, can you even hear yourself right now?”

Jake didn’t skip a beat.

”Loud and clear, mate. Loud and clear.”

Leo blinked, then said flatly, ”You’ve not even made a start since you joined the U23’s. Meanwhile, Ezra’s played five games, got two assists. But you come and talk about playing together for the motherland to me.”

Ezra grinned, hands raised like he wanted no part in the argument. ”Hey, don’t drag me into this.”

Jake scoffed, clutching at his chest theatrically.

”That’s because they don’t see my talent yet, obviously. They’re blind, all of them! A conspiracy, I tell you.”

Leo just stared at him for a moment, that blank, exhausted expression of someone used to Jake’s antics, then sighed.

”Keep telling yourself that, mate. You always talk about us playing together but you make the least effort. I am lucky enough to be in the Senior team. Ezra has also began making strides for the U23s and the only reason Benjamin is still in the U21s is because Coach Thompson said he didn’t want to de-stabilise the team in the latter stages of the developmental league. You are stagnating”

He turned to walk off, his bag bouncing lightly against his shoulder.

”That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Jake called after him, though there was more grin than bite in his voice.

Leo didn’t turn around, just waved him off without looking back.

Ezra laughed, clapping Jake on the shoulder. ”You really love the sound of your own voice, huh?”

Jake smirked, brushing invisible dust from his chest.

”Someone has to make sure this group stays entertaining while golden boy’s off living the Azzurri dream.”

Ezra shook his head, still chuckling. ”You’re unbelievable. Plus, you know he won’t be capped for them since he plays for their U21s so why are you are you acting that way.”

”I’m just too patriotic,” Jake corrected, with mock seriousness. ”There’s a difference.”

Ezra snorted. ”Right. Keep telling yourself that.”

They both watched as Leo disappeared through the a doorway to his left, into the facility, before Jake finally let out a long, dramatice sigh.

”Still think it’s betrayal,” he muttered, half to himself.

”Let the joke go Jake,” Ezra said, a bit irked this time before walking off.

...

The next evening, Leo had half his room in chaos.

The open suitcase sat on the floor, half-filled with some clothes rolled and stuffed between shin pads and socks.

His boots were lined up along the edge of the bed like he was trying to pick which pair would bring him luck, but before he could choose, his phone buzzed on the desk, with a new email notification.

He wiped his hands on his shorts and opened it.

/ From: Federazione Italiana Giuoco Calcio (U21 Operations)

/Subject: Travel and Camp Details — Italy U21

Dear Leonardo,

Please find your travel and accommodation details below:

Departure: 11:20 AM, Terminal 2, Ringway, Manchester — Flight to Rome Fiumicino.

Team coach pickup upon arrival, transfer to Coverciano Training Centre, Florence.

Accommodation: Player residence, Room 14.

Arrival kit distribution and light recovery session scheduled for 6:00 PM local time.

Meals provided from arrival.

Please bring at least two boots, one for training and the other for games, valid ID, and signed clearance papers.

We look forward to welcoming you to camp.

Kind regards,

Giuseppe Bianchi, Team Coordinator – Italy U21

Leo read through it twice, his lips tightening slightly as he scrolled down.

”Two boots. Are they going to trash them with their defensive game,” he said, laughing at his own bad attempt of a joke before he let out a small breath, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the screen for a few seconds, not because he was nervous, but because it suddenly felt real.

”I wasn’t even playing a year ago, and now all this,” he muttered before sitting right back up.

He clicked the laptop shut and stood up.

From the pile of gear near the wardrobe, he picked another pair of boots, the clean unused white Adidas’s with scuffs on the instep, and tossed them into the bag.

The zip half-caught the laces, and he yanked it free with a grunt just before his phone started ringing.

Aunt Sofia.

Leo swiped to answer. ”Hey, Sof.”

”Have you packed?” came her voice immediately, brisk, slightly high-pitched.

”I told you not to leave it for the last minute!”

”I’m almost done,” Leo said, glancing around the room.

”Almost done? You leave tomorrow! You should’ve finished by now! You know it’s your first time traveling alone—”

”I’m not traveling alone,” Leo cut in, half smiling. ”Another player’s on the same flight.”

There was silence on the other end for a moment, then, ”That’s not an excuse, Leonardo. You still have to be careful. Don’t lose your passport, don’t talk to strangers at the airport, don’t—”

He laughed.

”Sofia, I’m not twelve.”

”I know you’re not twelve, but that’s exactly why I’m saying it,” she shot back.

”You think you know everything now.”

Leo pressed a hand to his forehead, grinning. ”I’ll be fine, alright. Promise.”

”I mean it,” she insisted. ”Text me when you get to the airport. And when you land. And when you—”

”—get to the hotel, yeah, yeah,” he finished for her. ”Got it.”

A small sigh came through the line, softer this time.

”Okay, good. Just... be smart, Leo.”

”I will,” he said, and the call ended.

The room felt quiet again as he slipped the phone into his pocket and looked around, the bed covered in clothes, the suitcase half-zipped, a pair of socks on the chair, and the printed documents he was supposed to take with him on the table.

He picked it up, looked at it for a moment, then tossed it gently onto the bag beside the pile of clothes.

After a second, he zipped the bag shut, gave it a small pat like to say done, and pulled it toward the wall.

Then, with one last glance around, Leo flicked off the desk lamp and went back to fold the last of his shirts, muttering under his breath, ”Guess that’s everything.”

....

”That’s not everything,” Leo muttered the next morning as he turned back toward the building, jogging across the parking lot with his bag half-open.

Dawson stood by the car, hands in his jacket pockets, shaking his head with a laugh as he watched the teenager dash back inside.

The man leaned against the car and pulled out his phone, scrolling idly as the morning air sat cool and quiet around the Wigan training complex.

A few minutes later, Leo came running back, charger cable dangling from one hand, a power bank in the other, and an extra pair of socks stuffed under his arm.

”Found ’em,” Leo said, slightly breathless.

Dawson raised a brow.

”You sure you’re not planning on moving house while you’re at it?”

Leo grinned. ”Can’t ever be too prepared.”

”Uh-huh,” Dawson chuckled, opening the car door.

”You better not be coming back. I’m not turning this car around again.”

Leo laughed, tossing his stuff into the backseat.

”I’m done, promise.”

They got in, and Dawson started the engine, the hum filling the quiet lot as they rolled out through the gates.

”Thanks for taking time out of your ’busy’ schedule to send me off.”

”Come on Leo, we both know I am not busy. As for sending you off, I just didn’t want to owe Nolan my next month’s salary with all the work I am making him do.”

That made Leo laugh a bit.

”So,” Dawson said, glancing at him once they hit the main road, ”you excited?”

Leo gave him a side look, like Dawson had just asked if water was wet.

”Right,” Dawson said, chuckling. ”Stupid question.”

Leo cracked a grin and turned to the window, watching the trees slide by.

The drive to Ringway wasn’t long, but it was slow enough for the morning to wake fully.

Dawson hummed quietly along to the radio, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as Leo’s phone buzzed, a message from Sofia.

Sorry, I couldn’t make it to see you off. I tried, but work won’t let me out early.

Leo smiled faintly as he typed back:

It’s fine. Your boyfriend of a coach got the job done.

He hit send and watched as the typing bubbles came and disappeared, then came back again, three dots flickering in hesitation.

Finally, a single message popped up:

Watch it.

Leo snorted a laugh and shook his head, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

As Dawson pulled into the airport drop-off lane, Leo reached for his bag.

”Thanks for the ride, boss.”

Dawson gave a small nod, eyes still on the front.

”Go on then, hurry up. And make sure you come back, or this might be your last trip.”

Leo smiled, slinging the bag over his shoulder. ”I will.”

He shut the door and stepped onto the curb, the sound of engines and rolling suitcases rising around him.

Dawson gave a short wave through the window as Leo adjusted his strap and started toward the entrance.