Jordi came out of his room as the sun disappeared below the horizon. He had not met Teresa the whole day, and he missed her. She was blissfully unaware of everything, laughing and weeping in her own little world. So, what if Jordi was injured or unaware of his future? Teresa wanted him to play with her and read her books and make her laugh.
The lounge and Uncle's room were empty. He checked from the top of the staircase, and the lights were off in the bakery as well. Maybe Aunt Ona and Uncle Ferran had left her with Mama. So, Jordi made his way to his mother's room. His fist froze just as he was about to knock on the ajar door. Through the gap, he could see his mother pacing back and forth. Every few steps, she would pause and look down at her phone.
Finally, Layla sat down, took a deep breath and dialled the number. Immediately, she turned on the speaker and placed the phone some distance away. Jordi, unconsciously, tensed up as the bell rang. He was not used to seeing his mother this uncomfortable.
Layla wished that he wouldn't pick up the call. But she also knew that she would keep calling until he did.
"Hello?"
"…"
"Hello? Who is calling?"
"Hi, Roger."
"Hello. Who am I speaking to?"
To his surprise, Jordi found the voice and the indifference within it familiar, but he could not place it. He did not think too much because he saw his mother sit straight upon the man's question. Her face betrayed a deep pain that rose up when she heard the question.
"It's, it's me. Layla— Layla Lloret."
"Oh… Why are you calling me, Layla?"
"Won't you ask about him?"
"Whom?"
"Your son."
"Sigh. It's been so long, Layla. Let us leave everything as it is. I'm sure you are raising him to be a good man and—"
"His name is Jordi, and he is an amazing footballer. You have no idea, Roger. He is so talented."
"I am sure he is."
"Heh, you don't believe me. He has been playing in La Masia since he was 6. Manchester City, PSG, all the big teams of Europe are after him."
"Oh… Interesting. Why are you telling me all this?"
Layla visibly deflated, a woman losing the last vestiges of belief. Hope that had tethered her tears vanished. She covered her mouth to sob, but quickly collected herself. The purpose of her call had still not been achieved.
"He tore his hamstring last week and needs surgery. Barcelona won't help, so we have to pay ourselves. If—"
"No, Layla. I have nothing to do with this. I cannot help you."
"Please, Roger! He is your son. He is such a gifted player. Roger, you don't have to help pay. I just need to borrow €10,000. In a few months, Jordi will sign with Adidas, and I'll return the money."
"I'm sorry, Layla. I cannot help. And please don't call again. Miriam will create a fuss otherwise. Goodbye."
"Please, Roger. NO! Roger, please! For old… Roger? Roger? Hello?"
Layla could not believe he had cut the call. Her heart sank. Her shoulders ached. She felt cold. Her cries resounded in the room as she squeezed the mattress. All of a sudden, her son's warm arms embraced her. Layla's sobs got louder as she knelt against Jordi. Had it already come to his? Her little Jordi was already old enough to comfort his pathetic mother.
…
RFEF Headquarters, Madrid
"Sir, there is only one player named Jordi Lloret in our system. He is flagged as a high-priority talent. I have emailed you the file."
"Thank you, Alia. You can go home now."
Roger Serra, Director of Football at RFEF, leaned forward and opened the email. The sun had already set, and most of the staff had left by now. In the unlit room, only the computer screen illuminated the man's handsome and stoic face. Quite unusual to his demeanour, his eyes betrayed a deep curiosity.
_________________________
Jordi Lloret
Birthdate: June 04, 2003
Age: 15
Position: CDM [CB/CM]
Teams: FC Barcelona Juvenil A / Spain U-16
* High Priority Talent
* Shortlisted for the U-17 World Cup
_________________________
Surprise rose on Roger's face, but he continued reading. "Captained most years at La Masia. One of the biggest prospects at the academy. Impressive."
Roger opened his browser and searched for clips of Jordi. He soon found Jordi's highlights uploaded by a La Masia account. It was his international debut against England U16. Roger narrowed his eyes when he saw the boy. Roger remembered meeting him last year. While it was a short exchange, the boy had a distinct presence that left its mark.
Roger clicked the replay button on the bottom left for the 6th time. His eyes closely followed the play throughout the 3-minute highlights. This time, he didn't replay the video. Instead, he got up, collected his coat, and walked out. The room was left quiet and still, the bright screen paused on a close-up of Jordi's handsome face.
However, the stillness was soon broken as Roger Serra walked back in. He threw his coat on the chair and turned to the screen. Hands on the edge of the desk, Roger shifted down and stared at Jordi's face.
She was right. No, she had completely undersold the boy's talent. What Roger had seen was shocking, to say the least. This was his son. Roger paused as he realised this thought. He switched back to Jordi's profile. Then he opened a minimised tab containing the profile of a different player.
_________________________
Alejandro Serra
Birthdate: January 22, 2000
Age: 19
Position: CAM [LW]
Teams: Real Madrid Castilla / Spain U-19
* High Priority Talent
_________________________
Roger's hand wavered over the mouse, but not for long. A resoluteness settled in his eyes as he returned to Jordi's profile. He then left a note to his assistant before writing an email to the U-17 Head Coach.
_________________________
Alia, first thing in the morning. Change Jordi Lloret's profile from 'High-Priority Talent' to 'Promising Talent'. Thanks.
_________________________
Dear David,
I have discussed with President Rubiales about expanding your coaching staff. He is open to the idea. Whenever you have time, contact Alia so we can discuss further.
Also, I noticed that you are considering Jordi Lloret for the U-17 World Cup this year. While I understand how mature and gifted he is, we must protect a boy of his talent. I strongly recommend you not call him up to your team anytime soon.
Best regards,
Roger
_________________________