The door to the U18 academy lodging clicked shut behind Xander as he stepped inside, the sound echoing softly in the corridor and reminding him of how quiet the building had become at this hour.
His body was sore, every muscle sending small signals of complaint with each step, heavier than the last, and he could feel the tiredness in his bones as if it had settled there to stay. His legs felt like they had been weighed down, heavy from the constant sprints and the sharp turns during training, and his shoulders were tense from the pressure of the day and the focus he had forced himself to maintain from the very first whistle.
The soft golden glow from the corridor lights did not help him relax, it only reminded him of how late it had gotten, and how tomorrow would come early whether he liked it or not. Most of the others were probably still in the dining area or stretching in the recovery room with quiet chatter and laughter echoing between them, but he just wanted to lie down and close his eyes and let the day fade from his mind.
He walked slowly through the hallway, passing the common room where a faint hum of a football match playing on the TV reached his ears, and then past the kitchen where a few plates clinked as someone cleaned up, until he reached his room at the far end. The familiar hum of the overhead light in the corridor followed him as he scanned his keycard and pushed the door open, the small green light blinking before the lock clicked.
Inside, Jeremy Williams was sitting on the edge of his bed, legs crossed comfortably as he scrolled through his tablet with a lazy focus. His boots were tossed beneath the desk in a messy pile, and his water bottle stood half empty on the nightstand beside a folded training bib from the morning session.
When Jeremy looked up and saw Xander, he raised an eyebrow and gave a small smirk that curled at the edges of his mouth.
"So," Jeremy said, locking his screen and dropping the tablet on the bed beside him, "how's life with the royalty upstairs?"
Xander did not answer immediately. He let his bag slide from his shoulder and drop to the floor with a soft thud, then sat on his bed without even removing his boots, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight as he leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He exhaled slowly, letting the breath calm him a bit before speaking.
"Loud," he said, his eyes staring at the floor, "and intense."
Jeremy leaned back, folding his arms across his chest, shifting slightly so that the springs of the bed squeaked. "You missed warm up this morning, you know. Felt weird not seeing you in the rondo."
"I missed it too," Xander replied. He sat upright a bit, his fingers moving to the laces of his boots, slowly untying them as he spoke. "The whole day felt surreal."
Jeremy chuckled, leaning his head back for a second before looking back at him. "I figured. You've got the look of someone who just ran through a wind tunnel."
Xander let his boots drop to the floor with a soft knock and rubbed his calves with both hands, trying to ease the tightness he felt there. "I was trying not to get run over out there. Every pass had to be perfect, every touch had to be tight, and if you lose focus for a second, someone like Casemiro's already cut the ball off."
Jeremy tilted his head, watching him with curiosity in his eyes. "So it's really that fast up there?"
Xander nodded, rolling his ankles slowly as he let the words come out with a tired honesty. "Faster than anything we've seen down here, and sharper too. I had to switch on from the first whistle, and if you're slow even for a moment, you get exposed."
He stood up and walked over to his locker, pulling out a clean training shirt that smelled faintly of detergent and a towel that was still warm from the laundry room. Jeremy watched him, his arms still folded, his eyes following every movement as if trying to read something from the way Xander moved.
Xander returned to sit down, draping the towel across his lap, the fabric soft under his tired hands. He looked over at Jeremy, meeting his gaze for a moment.
"It wasn't all bad though," he said, a small glint in his eyes despite the exhaustion.
"Like what?" Jeremy asked, raising an eyebrow again.
Xander smiled faintly, a tired but genuine smile that came from the memory. "Dropped McTominay with a quick feint."
Jeremy's jaw dropped, his eyes going wide as he leaned forward. "Wait, wait, wait. You dropped Scott McTominay?"
"He came in for a press," Xander explained, "I shifted right, and he went flying the wrong way."
Jeremy burst out laughing, standing from the bed and pointing at Xander as if accusing him. "You're joking?"
Xander grinned, the memory warming him despite the tiredness. "I'm serious."
"Why is this the first thing I'm hearing about this?" Jeremy demanded, still laughing as he shook his head. "That's the kind of story you lead with, man."
Xander shook his head with a chuckle. "Didn't even think about it until now, was too focused on surviving out there."
Jeremy walked across the room and gave him a mock shoulder bump, his laughter finally calming down as he grinned. "You're unbelievable, man. McTominay's going to remember that one."
"He might," Xander said, leaning back slightly, "the others sure laughed loud enough when it happened."
Jeremy sat back down on his bed and grabbed his water bottle, taking a swig before looking back across at Xander with a softer expression in his eyes.
"Coach Travis asked about you this morning," he said.
Xander looked up, surprised. "He did?"
"Yeah," Jeremy nodded, "during warm ups, said the rondo felt too slow without you in it."
Xander felt something shift inside him, not pride exactly, but a quiet stillness that landed softly in his chest, reminding him of where he had come from and how far he had managed to reach.
"I didn't think he'd notice," Xander said quietly, his fingers drumming lightly on the towel in his lap.
Jeremy shrugged, giving him a small smirk. "He notices everything, he just doesn't talk much, you know how he is."
There was a silence between them then, not uncomfortable, just quiet and real as the faint hum of the hallway outside drifted into the room.
Jeremy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes thoughtful. "You gonna be with the first team from now on?"
Xander looked at the floor, then back at his roommate. "I don't know, Ten Hag hasn't said anything yet, he told Garnacho and me that we're in the squad, but that's it."
"You think you'll play against Liverpool?" Jeremy asked.
"No idea," Xander said, "if I do, I'll probably come off the bench, but even that would be massive."
Jeremy nodded slowly, processing the weight of what that meant. "Honestly," he said after a moment, "everyone's rooting for you, you know."
Xander raised his eyebrows slightly, surprised by the words. "Really?"
Jeremy gave him a look, almost rolling his eyes. "Come on, man, you've been tearing it up since the start of the season, this promotion wasn't a surprise to anyone except maybe you."
Xander did not reply right away, leaning back onto his bed with his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling that was painted in a dull white, small cracks visible in the corners if you looked long enough.
"I don't want to mess it up," he said finally, his voice soft, "feels like I've been working toward this for years, and now that I'm here, every step feels like it's being watched."
"That's because it is," Jeremy said plainly, "but that doesn't mean you're not ready, you've done the work."
Xander turned his head slightly to look at him, gratitude clear in his eyes. "Thanks."
Jeremy shrugged, trying to play it off. "Just don't forget about us little guys when you're playing at Old Trafford."
Xander smiled, his eyes softening. "You'll be there too soon."
Jeremy shook his head with a small chuckle. "I'm not the one training with Ronaldo."
Xander did not answer, his thoughts drifting for a moment as the image of Ronaldo's goal from earlier replayed in his mind, the way the ball moved, the clean strike, the confidence, and the calmness that Ronaldo carried himself with. There was so much to learn, so much to absorb, and he felt that weight in a good way, a reminder of why he was doing all of this.
After a while, Jeremy kicked off his shoes and climbed into his bed, pulling the blanket over his legs.
"You've got another session tomorrow?" Jeremy asked, his voice muffled slightly.
"Yeah, early," Xander replied.
Jeremy groaned softly, turning to face the wall. "Good luck waking up."
Xander sat up and reached for his phone on the desk, the screen lighting up the dim room with a soft glow that reflected off the metal edges of the bed frame.
He opened the system silently, letting his eyes adjust to the cool light of the interface.
[Training Summary Complete]
[Stat Growth: +1 First Touch , +1 Decision Making]
[Recovery: 6 percent stamina loss , Suggested sleep: 7 hrs minimum]
[Next Training: 07:45 A M , Location: First Team Facility]
[Note: Tactical Review Video from Match Simulation Available]
He swiped the panel closed and placed the phone face down on the desk beside him, exhaling slowly as he let the day catch up to him.
He lay back down, pulling the covers over his chest and staring up at the ceiling again, letting his mind replay the day in small snapshots. The smell of the first team changing room. Garnacho's excited greeting. Ronaldo's calm nod. Ten Hag's short but firm acknowledgment. The sharpness of the sprints after losing the practice match. Rashford's loud groan. The laughter of the players. The quiet pride in Coach Travis's words.
Then Jeremy's voice came back to him, "Everyone's rooting for you."
He had not expected that, but it meant something, something he would carry with him.
He turned toward the wall, the room quiet again except for the faint sound of voices a few rooms down that barely registered in his tired mind.
His eyes blinked once, then again, before they slowly shut, the darkness wrapping around him softly.
Just keep going, that's all I have to do.
Sleep came slowly.
But it came.
Tomorrow was waiting.