The morning after breaking the rules of his own system, Leon felt a strange and wonderful sense of freedom.
The sun was streaming through his window, and for the first time in a long time, the future didn't feel like a pre-determined path of stats and potential ratings. It felt like a blank page.
He walked into the kitchen to find his mother already there, a whirlwind of happy energy, humming along to the radio as she prepared a frittata.
"Buongiorno, my champion" she said, beaming at him. "Did you sleep well? You didn't have any nightmares about crazy coaches or haunted breadsticks?"
"Slept like a log, Mom," he laughed, grabbing a glass of orange juice. "And for the record, Julián is convinced the breadsticks were on our side. He thinks they distracted the referee."
"That boy is a treasure," Elena said, shaking her head with a smile. "He reminds me of your Uncle Marco, who once tried to pay a parking ticket with a very convincing-looking rock."
