As soon as I entered the cafeteria after the morning training, I turned on my phone.
A torrent of information flooded in.
There was all sorts of information, but what I needed was the relationship between Sébastien and the other players. Amidst the chaotic information, I was fortunate to find some of what I was looking for. Summarizing this information, I came to the following conclusions:
The players had no strong feelings towards Sébastien. They were merely afraid of Liam Grant's group, or rather, a gang.
To add to that, the team was performing decently, so they didn't feel the need to concern themselves with Sébastien.
It was frustrating to realize that the other players were merely bystanders. However, given that they were unwilling to confront someone backed by a local gang, it was difficult to blame them. After all, athletes aren't necessarily imbued with a strong sense of justice, so I wasn't overly angry.
I needed to look at it positively. The fact that everyone was a bystander meant that if I could resolve the issue with the toxic trio, it would be enough.
I finished my meal with Sébastien and immediately called the EW agency. After just two rings, Katie Cubitt picked up.
"Are you going to quit?" she asked.
I was momentarily taken aback before responding firmly.
"Of course not. I'm going to keep working."
"That's a relief."
I ignored Katie's reaction and carefully explained the situation here. She listened silently, then asked one question.
"Is that all?"
I was stunned again.
She seemed completely unfazed by what I had just told her.
"No…"
"Right now, we don't have the manpower or the time, so it's going to be difficult for the time being."
"What?"
"Do you have any evidence? Something concrete that could definitely bury the opponent. Or a witness, perhaps?"
I was at a loss for words. There was no guarantee that the bystander players would speak up, and there was no clear evidence to present.
"Just as I thought. Then it's going to take some time. If you can secure any evidence, please gather as much as you can. I'll contact you again. Oh, your weekly pay will be sent tomorrow, and starting next week, it'll be sent every Friday."
"No…"
Click.
Isn't this a matter of urgency? A player from the agency is facing racial discrimination, and the coach is treating him unfairly!
Are you telling me you can't move without evidence? Shouldn't there at least be some action taken to protect Sébastien? If he can't even attend training, shouldn't the agency arrange a training venue for him?
I punched the wall in frustration.
I was so angry that I didn't even feel the pain.
I turned my phone back on and started to dial the office number, but then I turned off the screen.
The events of the past few weeks flashed through my mind like a panorama.
The living manager had not been assigned to help with meal management for almost a month, leaving me alone with Sébastien, who was practically a rookie. Even Harry, who merely handed over documents with an apology under the pretext of handing over responsibilities, came to mind.
"Is this a dead end?"
I thought the agency might not see Sébastien as a worthy investment. This was the same agency that terminated the contract with Chris for business reasons.
It was just a guess, but looking at the support from the agency, it was safe to say they were indifferent.
Their stance was excessively cold.
I was angry, but I also needed to become as cold as the agency.
"Do you have evidence?"
If that's the case, I need to gather evidence that forces them to act. If they still refuse to move, I'll tip off the press about the agency in the UK.
"Have you finished your call?"
Perhaps tired of waiting, Sébastien came to find me, wearing a bright smile.
I stopped my thoughts and spoke to him.
"Sébastien."
"Yes?"
"I think I need to go to training tomorrow."
Perhaps my tone was off because Sébastien's expression briefly stiffened. Then, he forced a smile and assured me it was okay.
What a good kid. Seeing him like that strengthened my resolve. I had to do my best.
"I'll take the heat from the coach, so you just focus on training."
"Take the heat? What does that mean?"
Hearing Sébastien's innocent question made me smile wryly.
As I clicked 'send' while gazing out at the night streets of Brighton, I finished today's report and video editing.
But instead of feeling refreshed, I felt uneasy.
To move the agency, I needed more solid evidence. Evidence powerful enough to cause a backlash against the agency if an individual exposed it.
"Should I become a paparazzo...?"
It didn't sound like a bad idea.
There were still many gaps in the information provided by the helpers. Occasionally, they provided crucial information, but they never revealed how to resolve things. They didn't offer any support; they were just 'Helpers.'
Ugh, this is a headache.
I didn't know what Liam Grant and his toxic trio would do tomorrow, nor did I know how the coach would act after ignoring my words.
I hadn't slept for almost two hours, and I felt a headache coming on, but sleep eluded me.
I jotted down the information I had gathered today in my notebook. As the information grew, I started to notice points that could enhance performance, such as "If you pass more, your game performance will improve," and "He prefers to dribble to the left."
Of course, it was all useless now. No matter how good his performance became, Sébastien wouldn't be able to play.
"I want to heal…"
When my mind becomes cluttered, I need rest. Overthinking is pointless.
I glanced at my phone and saw it was 11 PM; in Korea, it was probably 8 AM.
I made a call.
"Hey, sis, how have you been?"
"Ah, aside from worrying about my useless little brother who promised to call me back last week, I'm fine, I guess."
"Hahaha… I texted you, didn't I?"
"That was just a check-in. Starting next week, call me regularly. Da-eun's been saying she's dying because you only text and never call."
"Really?"
I was glad I called my sister.
After thinking about racial discrimination just moments ago, hearing my sister's familiar voice made me feel like I had returned home.
"Anyway, how's work? Is it okay? Don't you want to come back right away?"
"...I think they want me to come back?"
My sister chuckled softly.
What could I say about work?
Liam Grant and the toxic trio immediately came to mind, along with the overly cold agency and the strange coach.
Ugh.
However, I couldn't help but smile when I remembered Sébastien's puppy-like eyes and his dazzling movements during training.
"The pay is fine, and my client is nice. He's really talented too."
"Really? That's a relief."
Then, our small talk continued, mainly about the family back home. My father was doing well, and Da-eun, now in her final year of high school, was studying hard, among other everyday topics.
"I'm at work now. I have to hang up."
"Okay? Got it. I'll call you again next time."
"Okay."
Just as I was about to press the end button, my sister said,
"Wait!"
"Yeah?"
"Whatever you do, try to stop being so hasty. Stop rushing to prepare for things that aren't even happening. Don't forget to do things one at a time, calmly. Got it?"
"...Thank you."
Perhaps feeling shy, my sister hung up before I could finish my response.
"Haha."
I felt significantly more at ease.
My chaotic thoughts seemed to have been organized neatly in my mind.
Was I getting confused because I was trying to rush everything?
I looked at the organized information I had gathered. I could remember it for now and observe how Liam Grant would act tomorrow before formulating a plan; it wouldn't be too late.
They wouldn't actually kill me, right?
Right?