Page 149 of The Defender
March came and went. The frigid days of winter eventually gave way to early spring, and both the trainings and the pressure ramped up as Blackcastle advanced steadily toward the Champions League semi-finals.
Brooklyn and I settled into a comfortable routine of texts, phone calls, and video calls. The piercing ache of her absence had softened into a softer but steady hum in the background. It wasn’t because I missed her any less; it was because I needed to control my emotions like Coach had said. I couldn’t let them affect her time in Chicago or our race for the UCL title.
The intruder was still lying low, but Spike remained glued to my side. He did, however, convince me to move back home. The hotel became untenable after fans found out I was living there, and my earlier, all-consuming anxiety at moving home was more manageable with him around. In the autumn, I’d been worried about the effect the stress would have on my game, but if I could deal with the emotional toll of Brooklyn’s absence, I could deal with the intruder.
On a brighter note, I kicked off my official tenure as Zenith’s men’s ambassador. Two weeks after I signed the officialpaperwork, Sandra suggested we meet at Blackcastle to shoot a promotional video for their social media. She wanted to do it after one of my trainings for “maximum authenticity.” She’d swept in with a full camera and lighting crew, and we spent two hours filming in the changing room until she was happy. Lloyd was also there, silent but observant.
“We’re so thrilled to have you on board,” she said, beaming after we wrapped up the shoot. “Your test shots were fantastic, and we’re so excited about the first campaign launching this fall. Of course, we scheduled the bulk of the promo for the summer. We don’t want to distract you from the UCL finals!”
“Thank you.” I smiled. “I’m excited to be part of the family and to launch the campaign.”
I waited until Sandra and her crew left before I grabbed my duffel and headed for the exit myself.
“That was excellent.” Lloyd fell into step with me. Since most of the players and staff were already gone, it was just us in the corridor. “That video is going to break the internet.”
“Great.” I honestly didn’t care about how viral the video went. Strangely enough, I felt more neutral about the Zenith deal as well.
Don’t get me wrong. I was thrilled about landing the ambassadorship, but the more time passed, the lesscrucialit seemed. When I was vying for the role, I’d wanted it so badly I could fucking taste it. Now that I had it, I liked it, but I wasn’t obsessed with it the way I used to be.
It wasn’t simply a case of wanting what I didn’t have. It was the fact that its importance had been replaced by something more pressing.
“By the way, did you look into the Chicago club for me?” I asked.
Lloyd stopped and stared at me. “I thought you were joking.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Vincent.” He pinched his brow between his fingers. “Please tell me you’re not seriously thinking about transferring to fuckingChicagofor a girl. The US? Really? They don’t even like real football over there!”
My temper ignited, but I kept my voice as even as possible. “I asked you to look into it. I didn’t say to start preparing the transfer paperwork tomorrow.”
“The fact you’re even considering it is concerning,” Lloyd snapped. “You’re in the prime of your career. You have semi-finals coming up, and you could win a second World Cup next year.” He jabbed a finger toward the changing room, where we’d shot the Zenith video. “You just landedthe most coveted brand deal of the decade. How can you even think about giving it all up?”
“I’m not giving it all up.” The restraint on my anger snapped. “Even ifI transferred to Chicago—which I never said I would do—I could still have those things you mentioned. And if I couldn’t? It’smycareer. You’re my agent, and I respect your opinion. But if you think that gives you license to tell me how to livemyfucking life, then you have a fundamental misunderstanding of what this relationship is supposed be.”
Lloyd’s nostrils flared. Animosity simmered between us, just hot enough to scald without exploding into something irreversible—yet.
“Look,” he said in a noticeable effort to sound calm. “I understand it’s your life and your decision. My job is to help you achieve your goals, but italsoincludes telling you the truth when no one else will. You’ve been dating Brooklyn for, what, a few months? But you’ve worked for this careeryour entire life. Sure, if you want to transfer to the MLS and be closer to her, I can make that happen. You’re Vincent DuBois. Any club in the world would jump at the chance to sign you. But the States simply cannot level up your skills or your career the way UK and Europecan. If you and Brooklyn break up, then what? You’ll be stuck in Chicago for the duration of your contract.” He pointed toward the changing room again. “And Zenith. Do you think they’ll be happy about the bait and switch? They signed aPremier Leaguefootballer. That’s what they want. That’swho you are. Don’t change that because you’re infatuated with a girl.”
I listened to him all the way through without interrupting. Once he finished, I said my piece. “You’re right about everything except one thing. I’m not simply ‘infatuated’ with Brooklyn. I want to be with her. Full stop. For as long as she’ll have me. Don’t underplay that, or we’re going to have a big fucking problem.” Lloyd opened his mouth, but he closed it when I continued, “You said your job is to help me achieve my goals. Well, my goal right now is to get more information on Chicago. That’s it. So either you get me what I want, or I’ll find someone else who will.”
Lloyd had been my agent since I was a fresh-faced eighteen-year-old playing in Paris. We’d been through thick and thin together, and we’d had plenty of disagreements in the past. But we’d never let our differences stand in the way of our partnership—until now.
His teeth ground hard enough to crack a molar, but he didn’t argue with me again. “Understood.”
We reached the exit. Lloyd walked off without a goodbye, and I let him.
I wasn’t naive. From a business perspective, he was giving me the correct advice, and I wasn’t impulsive enough to transfer out of the Premier League without serious thought.
But talking to him had unlocked a new clarity, and the more he spoke, the more my scattered thoughts crystallized into realization.
I’d spent my entire career chasing validation from brand deals and external accolades. I’d been desperate to prove myselfto people I didn’t know—my birth mum, the stranger at the pub, the random man on the street. I’d equated every little metric of success with self-worth, but honestly, who cared whether some random magazine editor placed me at number six instead of number one on their list of Greatest European Athletes of the Decade? Who gave a shit about me losing a wellness supplement sponsorship to another footballer, and who was paying attention to my fan rankings in online forums?
Some people, sure. But none more so than me. I was my own harshest critic, and I’d been so focused on everything I didn’t have that I’d stopped appreciating the accomplishments Ididhave.
I’d done the work, and I’d put in the time. I’d won a World Cup. I’d led Blackcastle to the top of the league. I worked my ass off every day and pushed myself to be the best player and leader I could be. No matter what anyone else said, I fucking deserved to be here. I’d proven myself, and if Zenith didn’t want me because I transferred to a less prestigious club, or people judged me because they thought I was throwing everything away for a girl, then let them.
I sucked in an audible breath as the truth hit me.
