Mkhize still thought about her.
Even though she had chosen his brother, his heart refused to let go. He had seen a future with her dreams of marriage, family, and someone to share his victories with. But all of that had been ripped away, not because of love, but because of money.
His brother had wealth.
Mkhize had dreams.
But dreams, he reminded himself, are more powerful than riches.
"God can still do something amazing in my life," he whispered, as if trying to convince his own heart.
The next morning, he arrived at school earlier than usual. While the sun was still rising, he sat at his desk, pulled out his phone, and began watching videos on scouting. He studied how professional scouts from top clubs worked, how Kaizer Chiefs spotted talent, how ordinary men like him had made it into the game.
When the videos ended, his eyes fell on the notebook resting quietly on the corner of his desk. For a long moment, he just stared at it. Then he picked it up and held it against his chest.
"I promise," he said softly, "one day this book will be filled with the names of future stars. From schools, from dusty townships, from tournaments, from streets across South Africa and beyond. This notebook will hold their dreams, and mine too."
He wrote the first line on a fresh page.
It wasn't a player's name.
It was his own: Mkhize.