The academy grounds were unusually quiet the next morning, the stillness amplifying the weight on Carlos' shoulders. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the signed contract in front of him. The sleek folder lay closed, the ink on the page still fresh.
Carlos had made his choice, but doubt lingered like a shadow. Every instinct told him to tread carefully, yet the allure of his dreams pushed him forward.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He opened it to find Miguel leaning casually against the frame, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Big man now, huh?" Miguel said, his eyes flicking to the contract folder on the desk.
Carlos frowned. "How do you—?"
"Word travels fast," Miguel interrupted. "Herrera doesn't exactly keep secrets. So, you've signed your life away?"
Carlos stepped back, irritation bubbling beneath his skin. "What do you want, Miguel?"
Miguel shrugged, sauntering into the room uninvited. "Just a friendly warning. You're not the first to get one of Herrera's golden offers. You've got skill, but skill isn't what keeps you in his good books. Loyalty is."
Carlos crossed his arms, bristling at the veiled threat. "I'll prove myself on the pitch. That's all that matters."
Miguel chuckled, shaking his head. "You're still so naive. Good luck with that." He turned to leave but paused at the door. "Oh, and watch your back, Vargas. You're in the big leagues now. Not everyone plays fair."
Carlos arrived at the training field to find Herrera waiting near the sidelines. His polished demeanor seemed sharper than usual, his eyes cold and calculating.
"Carlos," Herrera greeted him, his tone smooth. "I trust you've made the right decision."
Carlos handed him the folder, his grip firm despite the unease coiling in his gut. "I've signed."
Herrera's smile was slow, deliberate. "Good. You've taken the first step toward greatness. But this is only the beginning. Your trial period is over. From here on, your performance must exceed expectations—every single day."
Carlos nodded, determined to push aside his doubts. He had made his choice, and now it was time to deliver.
The next week was a whirlwind of intense training and scrutiny. Herrera watched every move Carlos made, his presence a constant reminder of the stakes. The other academy players seemed to treat Carlos differently, some with open admiration, others with thinly veiled resentment.
Javier's words echoed in Carlos' mind, even as he poured everything he had into each drill. "If you choose to sign, go in with your eyes open."
One evening, as Carlos practiced alone under the dim stadium lights, Sofia appeared at the edge of the field. She approached cautiously, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.
"I heard about the contract," she said.
Carlos wiped sweat from his brow, his heart sinking. "Let me guess—you're here to warn me too?"
Sofia shook her head. "No. I just wanted to say… be careful. Herrera's offers come with a price, and it's not always clear what that price is until it's too late."
Carlos sighed, frustration spilling over. "Why does everyone think I can't handle this? I know what I'm doing."
"Do you?" Sofia asked softly. "Just don't lose sight of why you started. That's all I'm saying."
Her words lingered long after she left.
The following week, Herrera called Carlos into his office. The room was sleek and intimidating, the walls lined with trophies and framed photographs of players who had risen under his guidance.
Herrera gestured for Carlos to sit, his expression unreadable.
"You've been doing well," Herrera began. "But there's an opportunity I want you to seize. A sponsorship deal with Vega Sports."
Carlos blinked, surprised. "A sponsorship? But I'm just starting."
Herrera waved dismissively. "Your potential is what they're buying. The deal will secure you financially and raise your profile. You'll endorse their products, make a few appearances. Simple."
Carlos hesitated. The offer sounded incredible, but something about the way Herrera framed it made him uneasy.
"What if I say no?" Carlos asked cautiously.
Herrera's smile tightened. "This isn't a choice, Carlos. It's part of the package. Success requires sacrifices, and this is a small one."
The tension in the room was palpable. Carlos nodded slowly, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach.
That night, Carlos sat on his bed, staring at the Vega Sports contract. The weight of his decision pressed on him harder than ever. He thought of his mamá, of the dusty streets of San Azura, of the dreams that had brought him here.
He had fought so hard to get to this point, but now he wondered if he was fighting for the right reasons.
As the lights in the dormitory flickered out, Carlos whispered to himself, "Don't lose yourself."
Because deep down, he knew the hardest battles weren't fought on the pitch—they were fought within.