Harbinger Of Glory

Social media received this information with the energy of people who had been building toward a moment and had arrived at it.

Zenon Black: I need everyone to look at the Premier League table right now and tell me what they see.

Cybersage1: WIGAN ATHLETIC. 9 GAMES. 9 WINS. 27 POINTS. SIX CLEAR.

IgoontoSaka: The gap is six points. This is getting really uncomfortable to see. What are the top clubs doing with all their big budget. Damn.

Coolvamp: Chelsea bottled a two-nil lead against Arsenal on the same day Wigan won away at Nottingham. The universe is telling us something.

WNwriter: Pep lost to Arteta only for Arsenal to draw against this shit Chelsea side. And then you have Liverpool who are playing at the moment like they don’t want to go top. Someone check if this is a simulation.

Leo8373: The most frightening thing about Wigan is that they keep winning games where they could easily drop points. They don’t give anything back.

Ali: Someone said Wigan might qualify for Europe three weeks ago and I laughed. I would like to formally retract the laugh.

Kudo21: Leo Calderon is the best player in this league right now, and you can’t tell me otherwise.

TxSadz: That is true, but everyone is balling out. Jake, Ezra, Carlo, Reyes. Hell, even Max Power and Land scored today! And Fletcher, no matter how bad he started the season, is coming back from injury. Wigan are underratedly stacked.

....

[A Couple of Days Later!]

The headphones were on, but nothing was playing.

Leo sat in his seat on the plane and looked at the back of the seat in front of him without seeing it.

When the intercom came through talking about landing in a few minutes, he reached up and took the headphones off and set them on the tray table.

He sighed once and looked out the window at the Italian sky below.

Back to Rome. Back to Coverciano. Back to the national team setup and the preparation for whatever Spalletti had planned for this window.

As well as that thing!

*sigh*

As Leo heaved, Carlo stirred in the seat beside him.

Around them, the passengers began preparing as the plane began its descent.

When the plane began descending, he began surfacing out of sleep, before settling back in when it landed.

Leo shook his head before nudging the latter, who only opened one eye.

”We’ve landed,” Leo said.

Carlo closed the eye and then opened both of them before reaching up, grabbing his bag in the overhead compartment before settling back into his seat in one simple motion.

”Bruh,” Leo mouthed at Carlo, who looked like he was once again about to sleep.

The latter waved it away, while Leo got up and also grabbed his bag from the compartment.

A moment later, they were right through the aisles.

The Roman sun came at Leo immediately as he stepped onto the airbridge, and he raised his forearm to shield his eyes and kept walking.

Once inside, the process of getting through the airport had a different tone from the last time they’d been there.

At the first checkpoint, one of the security officers looked up from Leo’s passport, recognised him almost immediately and smiled.

”Good luck with the internationals,” Carlo translated what the man said as Leo returned the smile.

”Grazie,” Leo said as the officer handed the passport back without another question.

Something similar happened twice more before they reached their gate, with the duo receiving a few more well wishes before they’d made it out of arrivals.

”Perks of playing for country, right?” Carlo muttered while they stood outside.

Leo nodded in agreement as a moment later, what seemed to be their ride pulled to the designated spot in the airport parking.

”Welcome back, guys,” the driver said in Italian, something that Leo understood this time.

As they settled into the car, Carlo sat beside him, headphones resting around his neck while he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone.

Leo did the same, but his was for reasons other than entertainment or being occupied.

The squad list had been released not long before they boarded the flight.

He skimmed through the names one by one.

Donnarumma.

Bastoni.

Di Marco

...

His thumb paused as he finished, went back up and read through the list again.

After the third read, he picked his head up and turned slightly toward Carlo.

”Udogie’s not here.”

Carlo looked up, not really eager to turn away from his screen.

”Hm?”

Leo held his phone out as Carlo glanced at the list before giving a small nod.

”Well, whatever! I didn’t really like his attitude after their loss to us, so I don’t really care anymore. If he apologises, then it’s a different matter.”

Leo looked back at the screen for another second before locking his phone.

”Shame.”

The conversation faded there, with both of them turning their attention to the road ahead as the outskirts of Florence slowly gave way to quieter streets.

A few minutes later, the familiar gates came into view.

Centro Tecnico Federale di Coverciano.

The driver slowed before turning through the entrance, where from afar, the training pitches stretched out beyond the trees, exactly as Leo remembered them.

”We’re here, guys,” the driver tried to say but stopped halfway after realising that the ride hadn’t been quiet because they were sleeping.

In the next second, the duo got out, pulling their bags out of the car with help from the driver, no matter how hard they denied him.

”Have a very successful camp,” he wished before driving away, leaving the two to their devices.

Leo and Carlo glanced at each other, only for a second, before they grabbed their bags and began heading inside.

.....

”I think that should be it,” Vittoria muttered tiredly to herself as she came out of the meeting room into the corridor.

When she was out of earshot, she pulled her phone from her pocket while still walking, muttering to herself about the time and whether Leo would have landed yet.

She found his name and called, but it rang then clicked off.

She pulled the phone from her ear and looked at the screen and then tried again, and the ringing continued without answer.

She was still looking at the screen when her aunt’s voice came from the doorway behind her.

”Vittoria.”

She turned and found her aunt standing in the doorway, a glare on her face since Vittoria had technically left a room they were both supposed to still be in.

”We’re not done,” she said and tilted her head back toward the room.

Vittoria frowned, but she didn’t even let her do that, either.

”Next time,” she added, already turning, ”perhaps don’t disappear to England for a month without warning. You didn’t think the commitments would magically disappear when you were away, did you?”

At that, Vittoria pocketed her phone and followed her back inside.