The next day, Leandro woke up before his alarm went off.
The sun was still down. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to his steady heartbeat. Today was the scouting match — the day everything changed in his past life. Or maybe, the day nothing changed at all.
He sat up and checked his phone. 5:47 AM. The match was still hours away at 2:00 PM, but he couldn't sleep. Nervous energy kept him wide awake.
He got up and started his morning routine: shower, breakfast, and some light stretching in the living room.
Mariana came out of her room around 6:30, already in her work uniform. She worked as a cashier at a local supermarket and always took the early shift because it paid better.
"You're up early," she said, tying her hair back. "Nervous?"
"A little."
She walked over and put her hand on his shoulder. "You'll do great. Just play as you did in training, yeah?"
"I will." He paused. "I'm sorry you can't make it to the game."
Mariana shook her head. "Don't be. I can't skip this shift. Manager already warned me last time." She smiled. "But you better tell me everything when I get home. Every detail."
"I will," Leandro said. Then he looked her straight in the eye. "I'm going to get scouted today. I promise."
Mariana blinked, a bit surprised. Then she laughed. Not mockingly, but warm and genuine. "Okay, hotshot. I believe you."
"I'm serious."
"I know you are." She ruffled his hair. "That's why I believe you. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold. And don't forget to hydrate."
She left for work a few minutes later. Leandro ate slowly, trying to stay calm. He drank water, checked his gear three times, and watched match highlights on his phone to get focused.
By 10:00 AM, he couldn't sit still anymore. He grabbed his bag and headed out.
The walk to the stadium took about twenty minutes. Vila Nova's main stadium wasn't very large, holding around 8,000 people at full capacity. Today, it might be half full at best. Friendly matches rarely drew big crowds.
But scouts didn't care about crowds. What they cared about was talent.
Leandro got to the stadium around 10:45. The area was already busy. Vendors sold snacks and drinks, fans in Vila Nova colors trickled in, and a few journalists set up their cameras.
He walked to the players' entrance, where security waved him through. The locker room was filling up with players from both the first team and the reserves, all getting ready.
The first team match was scheduled for 12:00 PM. The reserve team match would follow immediately after, around 2:00 PM.
Leandro found his place in the reserve team section of the locker room and changed into his kit: a red shirt, white shorts, and red socks. Number 17 was on the back.
Rafael walked past and clapped him on the shoulder. "Ready to warm the bench, Silver?"
"We'll see," Leandro said quietly.
Gustavo was across the room, laughing loudly with some other starters. He caught Leandro's eye and smirked, but Leandro ignored him and focused on taping his ankles. Getting ready the right way helped prevent injuries, and every detail mattered.
Coach Domingos walked in around 11:30 with his clipboard. "First team, you're up in thirty minutes. Reserve team, watch from the stands. Pay attention to their positioning and movement. Learn something from your seniors."
The reserve players walked out and went to the stands. Leandro found a seat near the front with a clear view of the field. The stadium was slowly filling up. He looked around and quickly spotted the scouts.
They sat in a section near the halfway line. Most of the scouts were older men with notebooks and serious faces. Some wore club jackets, while others were in regular clothes. He counted at least seven.
The first team match kicked off at noon sharp.
Vila Nova was playing Atlético Goianiense. Both teams were in the third tier, fighting for a spot in the middle of the table. The quality wasn't great, but it was still professional football.
The game was just as Leandro remembered: scrappy and physical, with little creativity. Both teams played it safe, more afraid to lose than eager to win.
There weren't many chances. The midfield was crowded, and defenders kept hacking at attackers. The referee blew his whistle every couple of minutes.
Boring as hell, honestly.
Leandro watched closely, analyzing everything: how the wingers positioned themselves, when the fullbacks pushed forward, and where space opened up. He kept all of it in mind.
The first half ended 0-0. Both teams came out for the second half looking just as uninspired.
Finally, in the 67th minute, Vila Nova scored. A corner kick bounced around the box until their center-back smashed it in. It was a messy goal, but it still counted.
1-0.
Atlético tied the game in the 83rd minute with a long ball over the top. Vila Nova's keeper came out but misjudged it, and their striker tapped the ball into an empty net.
1-1.
The match ended with that score. The crowd gave polite applause, the players shook hands, and both teams walked off the field.
Leandro checked the time. 1:47 PM.
There were thirteen minutes left until the reserve match.
His heart started beating faster.
Coach Domingos gathered the reserve team in the tunnel. He looked over the group with his permanent scowl.
"Right," he said. "Same formation as training. 4-3-3. Play simple. Move the ball amongst yourselves, don't try to be heroes." He paused. "Miguel (GK), João (RB), Thiago (LB), Cauã (CB), Heitor (CB), Davi (DM), Enzo (CM), Bernado (AM), Gustavo, you're starting on the left wing, Luiz on the right, and... Rafael up top."
Leandro felt his chest tighten a little, but he kept his face calm. He had expected this. In his past life, he hadn't even made the bench for this match.
But Coach Domingos wasn't finished.
"Silver."
Leandro looked up. "Yes, Coach?"
"You're coming on second half. Be ready."
"Yes, Coach."
Gustavo glanced over with a raised eyebrow, looking smug, as if he'd already won something important.
The coach rattled off the rest of the bench. Then he clapped his hands once.
"Get out there and show them what you've got. Make those scouts remember your names."
The team jogged onto the field. Leandro and the other substitutes sat on the bench, with Leandro taking the seat closest to the halfway line.
From here, the field looked perfect: freshly cut grass, crisp white lines, and the goals standing tall at each end.
Fweeeee!
The referee blew his whistle for kickoff.