Monday morning arrived like a hammer.
Tobi Oliveira was back at school by 7:45 a.m., hoodie up, headphones in. His Sunday off had evaporated in a flurry of match analysis, tactical review sessions, and a brief dinner with Martha and Leonor. He hadn't slept well—his brain kept replaying the missed free-kick, the press coverage, the look in Coach Baraja's eyes after the draw.
His literature teacher had marked his essay again—this time with red ink.
"Tobi, you have talent," Mr. Gouveia said. "But brilliance without attention is just noise. You need to decide if you're going to be a student too."
That one hurt. Not because it wasn't true.
Because it was.
> [SYSTEM NOTICE] Academic Performance: C+ Focus Penalty Active — Training Efficiency -3% Suggestion: Rebalance school/football life to remove penalty.
Tobi sighed and looked out the window.
He had asked for a second chance at life. This was the cost.
---
On the Pitch: Shadows of Doubt
Training that afternoon felt... different. The energy was off.
In a drill, Gaya ignored Tobi's call for a pass. Later, during a scrimmage, Guillamón waved him off after a through-ball didn't connect.
He knew why. Some senior players thought he was getting too much attention. Too many starts. Too many media headlines.
Coach Baraja called the whole team in.
"We're not a team of egos," he snapped. "Anyone here thinking more about their next contract than the crest on their chest can sit out this weekend."
No one said a word, but Tobi noticed a few eyes darting toward him.
After training, only Javi Guerra patted him on the back.
"Keep ballin', bro," he said. "They'll come around."
> [SYSTEM NOTIFICATION] Chemistry with: Javi Guerra +5 Team Dynamics: Stable (Some tension)
Rumblings in the Locker Room
In the locker room, silence wasn't neutral—it was sharp, edged.
Diakhaby gave him a half-nod, but others like Almeida and Musah barely acknowledged him. Rumors moved faster than passes here.
"He's the coach's golden boy."
"Thinks he's a star already."
"He's 17 and getting paid more than half the squad."
Tobi kept his head down.
It wasn't about proving anyone wrong. Not anymore.
It was about surviving long enough to become undeniable.
The Isolation of Balance
Balancing football and school wasn't just hard—it was a daily identity crisis.
In class, students treated him like a celebrity. At football, he was a kid with a target on his back. And at home, he was a big brother trying to protect his sister's dreams while holding onto his mother's hopes.
Clara had a notebook of contract offers and endorsement requests. Agencies were sniffing around. Adidas, Puma, even Netflix wanted a documentary deal.
"No distractions," Tobi said firmly. "Not yet."
Clara nodded, proud.
But the cost was clear: sleepless nights, missed meals, pressure that never lifted.
> [SYSTEM NOTICE] Stress Level: Moderate Fatigue: Increasing Recommendation: Recovery session + journaling
An Ordinary Hero
At lunch, he took a tray and sat alone in the school cafeteria. Some younger students waved shyly. One approached.
"You're Tobi Oliveira, right?"
Tobi smiled. "Yeah."
"Can you sign my notebook?"
He did. And asked the boy's name. Paulo.
"You play?"
Paulo nodded. "Midfielder. But I'm not good."
"Neither was I, once," Tobi said.
Paulo's eyes widened. "You're amazing now."
Tobi lowered his voice. "Only because I kept showing up when I wanted to quit."
Paulo grinned and ran off.
Tobi looked at his food, suddenly a little more centered.
Dinner Talks
At dinner, Clara brought up something that made Tobi pause mid-chew.
"Leonor's being scouted by PSG's women's youth academy," she said.
Tobi blinked. "Paris?"
Leonor bit her lip. "They talked to me after the tournament. But I don't want to go. I want to stay near you."
Clara sighed. "You'll always be near us, baby. But sometimes dreams ask for sacrifice."
Tobi felt his throat tighten. He looked at Leonor. His baby sister. The only person who truly saw both sides of him—Tobi the footballer and Tobi the broken boy trying to heal.
He ruffled her hair. "Only leave if it's what you want. Don't chase anything because people expect it. Not even me."
> [SYSTEM NOTICE] Emotional Maturity: +1 Family Bond Strengthened
---
Game Day: Valencia vs. Celta Vigo
The stands buzzed. Rumors were flying that the club was fielding scouts from Manchester United and Juventus. Tobi felt the weight of it.
He started on the bench.
Baraja pulled him aside. "You need to know what hunger feels like again."
He didn't argue.
He sat. Watched. Waited.
By the 60th minute, the team was down 0–1. Lackluster midfield control.
Baraja gave the nod. "Change the game."
Tobi entered.
The shift was immediate. His passes connected. Movement sharpened. The team surged forward.
In the 76th minute, he flicked a backheel assist into the path of Hugo Duro.
Goal.
1–1.
Then, in the dying seconds, he struck a long ball to the wing, who crossed it for another.
2–1.
Comeback complete.
> [SYSTEM UPDATE] Match Rating: 8.4 Assists: 1.5 (Shared credit) Influence: High
Playmaker Awareness: +1 Tactical Precision: +1
---
Midnight Reflections
That night, he didn't sleep. Instead, he wrote in a journal the system had encouraged him to keep.
"You can be a genius and still be lonely. You can score and still feel hollow. You can win and still cry. That's the price of chasing perfection. I'm still learning to accept imperfection."
He closed the book. Looked out at the stars.
For once, he didn't feel crushed.
He felt... in control.