The sunlight in Valencia streamed across the cobblestone streets with a deceptive gentleness, hiding the storm brewing within Tobi Oliveira. The draw against Villarreal had done little to quell the buzz around him. Every media outlet had something to say—"Valencia's Prodigy Holds His Own," "Is Tobi Slowing Down?" "Midfield Maestro Needs Support." Praise and criticism blended like bitter coffee.
He hated it.
Because while the world dissected his every pass, he still had homework due, his muscles still ached, and the shadow of burnout whispered in his ear.
---
Morning Routine & Mental Clutter
He was up at six. The apartment was quiet. Clara, his mother and agent, had already left for a sponsorship meeting. Leonor was snoring softly, curled around her pillow, her Valencia youth jacket draped over her bedpost.
Tobi stood in the kitchen staring at the open fridge for five minutes before remembering he was supposed to eat. His phone buzzed.
> Inés: Don't forget Bio test today. If you fail, I'm disowning you.
He cracked a smile. Maybe the only smile that day. He replied with a thumbs up and shoved some eggs into a pan.
> [SYSTEM ALERT] Mental Load: 78% – Warning Threshold Approaching Suggestion: Rest / Cognitive Recovery Required
"Not now," he muttered.
---
School vs Spotlight
At school, the walls seemed to close in. Classmates watched him like he was a television show that might do something dramatic at any moment.
Even his teachers walked on eggshells around him.
"Mr. Oliveira," his biology teacher said, glancing at him over her glasses, "would you care to identify the cellular structures under the microscope?"
He did. Barely. It wasn't wrong. But it wasn't confident either.
At lunch, he sat with Inés who passed him a stack of flashcards.
"You're two exams behind in History and Literature."
"I'm two games ahead in La Liga."
"You're not invincible, Tobi."
"I'm trying."
"That's the problem. You're trying to be everything."
He looked away.
> [SYSTEM EFFECT] Social Support: Inés Bond +1 Stress -3
---
Training – Tactical War
Valencia's first team had a closed-door session in the evening. Tobi barely made it there in time, biking from school with his boots in his bag.
The session was intense. Coach Moreno was drilling counter-attacks, and the assistant coach had been taking notes on Tobi all week.
"Faster distribution. Two-touch passes. Mind the defensive gap!" Moreno barked.
Tobi was fast—but not his sharpest. The pressure from school, from critics, from his own expectations—it was a weight strapped to his legs.
Then Alejandro blindsided him in a drill. Hard.
He fell.
Whistles blew. Tobi lay there for a moment, staring at the clouds above.
> [SYSTEM CHECK] Injury: Negative Impact Force: Moderate Recovery Suggested: 12 hrs passive rest
He got up. Didn't even glare at Alejandro. Just walked off to reset the drill.
Martín, the veteran keeper, pulled him aside later.
"You're good, kid. But don't let that fire burn you."
"I'm not burning."
"You will. If you keep thinking you're alone."
---
Family Moments
At home that night, Clara was seated with a stack of papers—Leonor's training schedules, appearance requests, and two new contract proposals for Tobi.
"Adidas wants a boot deal," she said without looking up. "Also, Puma."
He sank onto the couch. "Let's wait."
"Why?"
"I haven't earned it yet."
Clara looked at him hard. "You're seventeen and playing pro football. You've earned a lot."
Leonor skipped in then, holding her new boots. "Tobi! Guess what?"
"What?"
"I scored a banger in training. Left foot. Coach said I'm magic."
He smiled. "You are."
She hugged him, and he felt the walls ease a little.
> [SYSTEM EFFECT] Bond Boost – Leonor: +2 Emotional Resilience: +5
---
Matchday – Athletic Bilbao
It was a home game under the floodlights. San Mamés was intimidating, but Mestalla roared like thunder.
Tobi was in the lineup again, alongside two new wingers and a defensive midfield anchor. The press was calling it "Valencia's Tactical Rebuild."
He stood in the tunnel, heart racing. Not from fear. From weight.
"Calma," he whispered to himself. "Play your game."
Kick-off.
The first half was a war. Bilbao pressed like madmen. Tobi was double-marked, his space suffocating. His passes clipped heels, his shots were blocked. Frustration built.
At halftime: 0-0.
Coach Moreno pulled him aside. "They're watching your feet. Use your eyes. Switch the play. Trust your wings."
Second half.
Minute 53: Tobi intercepted a loose ball, dummied one defender, and lobbed a pass over two others. The winger volleyed. Goal.
1-0.
Minute 72: He created another chance. It was saved.
Minute 85: Bilbao equalized.
1-1.
Minute 89: Free kick for Valencia, 28 yards out. Not his usual range.
But he stepped up anyway.
Silence.
He curled it.
Bar. Post. In.
2-1.
Mestalla exploded.
---
Aftermath
He sat in the locker room, drenched, exhausted, but smiling for real this time.
Alejandro passed by and muttered, "Nice free kick."
Progress.
Coach Moreno clapped his back. "Now that was Oliveira football."
> [SYSTEM REPORT] Match Rating: 8.9 Stats: 1 Goal, 1 Assist Media Buzz: High Confidence: +12
---
Late Night
Back home, he found a note from Clara:
> "I'm proud of you, no matter the scoreboard. Rest. You deserve it."
Leonor had drawn a picture—him and her, lifting trophies, with hearts around it.
He laughed. Then he cried a little.
In his room, he stared at the ceiling, then whispered:
"Let them watch. I'm not done yet."