"Mark, where do you think you are running to? Come and buy ice cream for me."
Outside of the stadium, the dressing room talks were over, and everyone was leaving for their houses. Mark was about to get into his car when he suddenly heard a familiar voice behind him. It was one of his teammates, Osas. Osas was of average height, a dark-skinned guy from Nigeria. He had short black hair, brown eyes, and would tuck everything in, including his jersey. He was wearing a light sweater and jeans, and even that was tucked in.
"Ah, Osas, it's you," Mark said as he opened his car. "Do you want me to give you a ride?" Mark asked politely.
Osas was a nice guy. "Wait, don't change the topic. Come and buy ice cream for me," he said.
Osas was a key player for Chelsea. However, because of an injury, he was going to sit out this match. Mark noticed that every time they finished a game or training, Osas would ask him to buy ice cream. At first, when Mark joined the club and experienced this for the first time, he was dumbfounded. But after it happened many times, it became a normal thing for him. The two got into the car and drove off.
On the way, they stopped at an ice cream cafe where they bought ice cream. Osas took a large-sized one and four others. The large one was for himself, and the others were for his younger siblings at home. On the other hand, Mark didn't take any. Ice cream wasn't his thing; he wasn't craving it at the moment. He would rather wait until he got home so he could cook himself a good meal. And if Kelly was around, she might cook something for him. Kelly was his girlfriend. However, their relationship hadn't been great for the past few days. Ever since Mark hinted at her cheating—well, he didn't outright say it, but he hinted at it—she became furious and stopped living with him, only coming once in a while when she felt like cooking for him.
"I wish she could cook for me. I really miss her food," Mark said to himself. Although he was sure she was actually cheating on him, that didn't mean he didn't like her food. In all honesty, his cooking was like chaff compared to the delicacies she always prepared.
Mark was watching a game on his iPhone. Osas asked, "What do you think of the match?" Mark, slightly caught off guard, replied, "Oh, that? It was a close one. We tried. Although we missed some chances, it's no problem. We'll go again next time."
Mark laughed to himself, thinking, "I wish I could be as careful as him." Osas was the team's second-highest scorer, even though he was a winger and had only played in less than 14 matches throughout the season due to injury. He was phenomenal, the kind of guy the team manager wanted. Mark, on the other hand, felt he wasn't as skilled. He worried that the higher-ups might be thinking of getting rid of him now that the transfer window was going to open. Despite his doubts, he didn't want to leave Chelsea, even though playing for the club came with a lot of pressure.
"I've been at the club most of my life. Every year, the fans hope I'll improve, but I continue to let them down. All my mates from academy days are doing well at other clubs, and I'm the only one still here. I'd appreciate it if they let me play for Nottingham Forest, Newcastle, or maybe even Burnley. At least I'd be able to find my form, even if it's just in the academy."
Mark was deep in thought when Osas suddenly shouted, "Goal!" Mark glanced over as Liverpool scored in the dying minutes to beat leaders Man City 3-2. Now, they had reduced the gap to just one point. At the beginning of the season, Man City had been 15 points ahead of the second place.
Everybody thought it was going to be a speed run to the league title, an easy year for Man City with them winning the title without difficulty, like in previous years. However, this year was different. It seemed there was going to be an intense battle between the top four.
Talking about Man City and Liverpool, Tottenham and Arsenal were no pushovers either. They had already started the season strong. It seemed the top four this year were simply above the rest. After driving for a while, Mark dropped Osas at his home before heading to his own house. Mark arrived home and parked his Mercedes in the garage.
His house was modest apartment on Oxford Street. He took the key from his pocket and opened the door. Upon entering, he took a long breath, preparing himself for what he was going to see as he turned on the light. However, he did not see what he expected. When he left home earlier, the place was in ruins, and he had been thinking about how he would clean it upon returning. But now, it was already spotless, not even a speck of dust left on the ground.
The house was beautifully arranged. Mark looked a bit surprised; he knew who was responsible for this. It was his girlfriend. She was actually a good housekeeper—too bad she cheated on him.
An idea suddenly flashed in his mind. He quickly ran to the kitchen and there it was: his meal. A smile crept on his face as he smelled the beautiful aroma. He couldn't wait to eat. The meal consisted of plain veggie rice, potato, egg sauce, with chicken soup on the side. He didn't know who taught her to cook like this, but he loved it. After eating, his stomach was stuffed, and he sat down on the bed, scrolling through his phone.
He opened YouTube and started doom-scrolling like everyone else. Among the things he saw was the match between Liverpool and Man City, the one Osas was watching. It was number two on the trending list. Mark decided to play it and watch the highlights himself. It was a great game, with plenty of shots from both sides. Players like Haaland, Foden, Salah, and Núñez scored, but the game-winner at the end was a header by Jota into the bottom right corner, leaving the goalkeeper with no chance.
After a few more minutes of scrolling, he saw the match he played in today and decided to click on it. He wasn't watching for entertainment—after all, he knew the score. He wanted to analyze the game, focusing on everything that happened on the pitch. Watching it again, he found himself commenting on the plays.
He sighed, "I should have passed," or "Damn it, just shoot!" as he criticized himself while watching the highlights. To regular viewers, it would seem like he had no issues, but Mark knew better. He recalled how limited his options felt during the game, unlike now as he watched it from the outside, spectating his own performance.
After watching, he decided to check the comment section. He knew it could be toxic, especially on games he played in, but this time, he felt compelled to look. The majority of the comments were complaints from Chelsea fans, frustrated with the team. Just as he was about to feel relieved that no one mentioned him, he saw a comment from a user named
The Primal Hater: Mark is a freaking joke. Look at all the chances he missed. It's hilarious they still let him play. If I were the coach, he wouldn't even make the reserves.
The comment had over 10k likes and nearly 90 replies. Mark read on, seeing more criticisms:
Federal Lord 1966: It's crazy how he's been with the team since the academy and still has no chemistry.
Potato Warrior: Guys, don't be too hard on him. He's still developing.
FangYuanGlazer: Every year, it's the same excuse—'he's developing.' How many years does it take to develop? Sell him already.
The harshest comment came from someone named Anonymous Killer: I'm on my way to his house to kill him right now. He made me lose my bet. I found his address. I'm going to kill him, then I'll off myself too.
"I think that's enough internet for today." Mark shook his head as he turned his phone off. He knew people said ridiculous things online, but threatening to kill someone over a lost bet was beyond absurd. He closed his door and went to sleep, unaware that as he drifted off, a shadowy figure crept up to his window, observing him silently.