Chapter 31 – Another Name in the Headlines
The locker room air felt denser than normal that afternoon—humid from yesterday’s rain, slightly musty from jerseys drying on hooks, and sharp with the promise of the day to come. Thiago leaned against the cool tile wall, lacing his boots slowly, methodically, his mind already at 100 % match focus.
He’d settled into this routine, this space, this club life. He’d come too far in too short a time to let a few namedrops shake him now. It’d been months since his debut, and every week brought incremental pressure—not the kind that rattled nerves, but the kind that sharpened them.
He nearly jumped when bursts of laughter and excited chatter erupted from the entrance. Players gathered around something—a phone, judging from the glow. Thiago’s gaze followed the crowd.
"Ain’t seen skills like that since Pelé was a kid!" someone said, voice rich with enthusiasm.
"Neymar da Silva," came another voice. "Sixteen. Just tore it up for Santos yesterday."
Thiago glanced over, alert—but not tense. He heard the clip play: crisp, digital audio, ball on boot, a soft feint, a cross clipped perfectly to the post.
"Did you see that second touch? Filth."
"Filth," Rafael echoed. Then, "That better be the full clip. Show me the through ball after bounce."
As the group drifted off, Thiago leaned forward, shielded his boots. Subtle, but he’d watched the same play they’d been talking about. Yellow-and-green jersey. Light on his feet. Been called "the next Robinho" already? Good. Let them talk.
Nando caught Thiago’s eye across the room. No taunt, no grin—just a glance sharp enough. Then Nando returned to packing his gear. Rafael wrapped a towel around Thiago’s shoulder lightly.
"He’s going viral already," he whispered. "And you’re not even in the first team sheet this week."