Still wondering about the commotion from the previous day, Winston decided to ask Annalise, who was working at the receptionist desk on the main floor. When he entered the ground floor of the hotel, he was taken aback by how impeccably clean and aesthetically pleasing everything looked. It was almost identical to the way it had appeared during his first visit.
It was as if nothing had happened. Apparently, the incident had been swept under the rug, and the hotel staff had been instructed not to say a word about it. Winston glanced around curiously, wondering whether Oswin knew anything about what had happened.
"So, how was training? My father came home exhausted yesterday," Annalise said, her fingers moving across the hotel computer.
Winston turned toward her. The sight of Annalise still caught him off guard. He quickly cleared his throat. "It was intense. I didn't know your father had military experience. How did he manage to juggle both football and military training?"
Annalise looked up at him. "Oh, he took you to one of his friends who lives on the outskirts, right? He wasn't in the military. As far as I know, he just signed up for some intense training. Football was his first and only love. The military stuff was simply his way of challenging himself. That's what Dad has always told me." She tilted her head. "What? Did he say something else?"
Winston leaned against the receptionist's desk. "No. I was just wondering. I noticed he and Boris seemed to have a history. They were talking like old military buddies."
"You know, he never really talks about his military training or his past. I only met Boris when I was young..."
A customer interrupted Annalise before she could finish. Seeing how busy she was, Winston waved goodbye and left the reception area. He decided to look for Oswin. He wandered through the hotel's expansive grounds, hoping to find his friend chatting with some of the women staying there. After walking around for a while, he wished he had simply asked Annalise where Oswin was.
Eventually, Winston returned toward his room. Then he heard someone shouting profanity. He stopped and looked down toward the training grounds. It was Oswin. Winston had never seen him this frustrated before. For a moment, he debated whether to leave him alone.
Before he could turn away, Oswin looked up. "Oh, ayo, Wis! You're back?"
Winston smiled. "Yeah. Last night."
Oswin's frustrated expression immediately piqued his curiosity. Winston descended the nearby steps. "This is my first time seeing you in practice mode."
Oswin glanced down at the ball beside his feet. His expression remained gloomy. "Yeah. You know... I'm just polishing some techniques."
His expression quickly changed, and he looked at Winston with curiosity. "What about you? Man, how was training with Dumi Crowe? The legendary striker. No doubt it was good."
Winston rubbed the back of his head. "You know... training was tiring. Brutal, actually." Before Oswin could respond, two youths nearby began talking loudly while looking in their direction.
"I thought he was gifted, but... what a shame."
"I even thought he was cool and talented, but yesterday's performance? It was like I was watching an amateur."
"At least he showed some skills that caught his opponent off guard. His footwork was crazy."
"Yeah, but the other kid was just too good. He—"
The two youths glanced over. They immediately noticed the hostile stares coming from Winston and Oswin. The youths quickly gathered their belongings and moved toward the opposite side of the changing building. Winston looked back at Oswin. Oswin simply shook his head. He grabbed his water bottle and sat down on the concrete steps that served as a makeshift bench.
He stared silently across the training ground. Winston sat beside him. For a while, neither of them spoke. Eventually, Winston broke the silence. "What happened yesterday, bro? What are those guys even talking about?"
Oswin let out a heavy sigh before taking a drink from his bottle. "About two days ago, some woman approached me while I was out on my morning run. She introduced herself as Diana." He paused. "She gave me an envelope with this weird crest on it. She said it would open the door to my dream of helping my family and bring me closer to my goal of playing for the senior team." Winston listened carefully.
"I was freaked out. She told me everything I needed to know was inside the envelope. Before I could ask anything else, she got into a black SUV and drove away." Oswin lowered his gaze toward the bottle in his hands.
"Yesterday morning, I found the envelope tucked into the jacket I'd worn during my run. I don't even know how it got there." He swallowed. "Curious, I opened it. A message appeared telling me I'd been selected for a trial match. It said I had ten minutes to get to the ground floor because my challenger was waiting."
Winston frowned. His suspicion about Diana had been correct. She was a scout, but her method of recruitment felt anything but professional. Oswin took another drink before continuing.
"When I got to the ground floor, you wouldn't believe what I saw. The area was tiny. Maybe twenty-five meters by fifty-five meters."
The size had been intentionally designed for one-on-one matches. Winston kept that thought to himself.
"I don't know how people found out about the challenge, but the place was packed. Everyone crowded around that tiny field." Oswin's expression darkened. "There was this kid standing on the other side of the pitch. He looked about our age. I'd never seen him before. There were small goalposts at both ends."
He took another gulp of water. "Then the alarm suddenly went off."
Oswin's fingers tightened around the bottle. "That kid immediately started dribbling the ball from the center. He was so fast... it was like I was playing against a gymnastic."
Winston remained silent. "His playing style was completely out of this world. It took me a minute just to understand what I was dealing with." Oswin stared at the ground. "When he scored the first goal, it was my turn to start. But it was like he could read everything I was going to do before I did it."
His voice grew quieter. "After playing for a while, I only managed to score once. Five attempts. One goal."
Oswin clenched his fist. "Once the trial ended, Diana came over and told me my skills needed more development. She said she'd arrange another trial at a later date."
Oswin shook his head. "I don't even know when that'll be."
Winston watched him carefully. He understood exactly how Oswin felt. Having your confidence crushed in front of a crowd was painful enough. Having your hard work exposed as insufficient was even worse. In some ways, Winston was glad he hadn't opened the envelope.
If he had gone through the same humiliation before his upcoming match, it might have shaken his confidence completely. "Wis."
Winston looked at him. "Do you think... if I ask Dumi Crowe for one-on-one training, he'll agree?"
Winston thought for a moment. Dumi was an exceptional trainer, but based on what Winston had experienced during the past few days, he wasn't sure Oswin would survive—or even benefit from—the same training style. Still, Oswin needed help.
"I'll ask him for you," Winston said. "And don't worry about that one-on-one match. When you get another chance, you'll beat that kid."
Oswin looked at Winston with renewed hope. A grin slowly spread across his face. "Thanks, bro. For looking out for me. I'll never forget this."