Second Chances: Indonesian Football Player

Chapter 102's

At exactly 8:00 a.m., Nero locked the door of his apartment and began to climb down the stairs. He was no longer tired after enjoying a luxurious breakfast consisting of yogurt, whole wheat bread, cream rice, canned fruit, and juice.

He took his food seriously. He always made sure to stick to a diet that leaned towards energy-rich foods for breakfast. The sugars and starches in food are converted into glucose, which provides energy for intensive exercise. Thanks to his eating habits and physical conditioning potions, he could always train longer than most of his peers. That was one of the main reasons why he improved so much faster than friends his age.

Nero ran down the stairs and reached the lobby on the ground floor in no time. However, before he could open the door and exit the building, he saw a familiar figure standing near the mailbox on one side of the lobby. That's Sage Royce, probably sorting through the letter. He noticed her as soon as he set his eyes on her.

"Good morning, neighbor," she said, waving at him. He emphasized the last word, neighbor.

"Good morning, Miss Sage," Nero returned his greeting, half-heartedly waving towards her.

"Why call me Miss?" Sage raised one eyebrow. "Your calling me makes me look like your boss." She's pouting.

Nero smiled, choosing to ignore his comments. "You have a lot of letters" he asked, pointing at most of the envelopes in his left hand.

"It's an academic document from my old school" replied Sage, the corner of his mouth forming a smile. "I'll use it to apply to university next week."

He furrowed his brows like he was trying to remember something. "That reminds me. You must have completed your secondary education. Aren't you going to apply to university soon? The deadline is almost nearing mid-April." He punched, locked eyes with Nero.

"No," Nero replied, shaking his head gently. "I will dedicate this year to my football career. I was inundated with a busy training schedule. I can't take time for anything else. I would only apply for university education after my career took off. " He added, sounds a little defensive. He did not want to be considered a Sage as a person who did not like school.

What he did not mention, however, was that he would probably not be in Belgium for three years. That is the minimum period required to complete the undergraduate program. So, he better wait until settling down somewhere that he would definitely spend a long time. Only then would he comfortably apply for university education.

"Oh," said Sage, nodding as if understanding his worries. "But you could think of taking a short language course in the meantime. As a soccer player, you have to learn several international languages. That is if you want to join a team in non-English or non-French countries. There are German, Spanish, and Italian courses at the University of Brussels. You can think of taking one of them starting next semester." He suggested.

"I'll think about it" Nero replied with a smile. He glanced at his watch and realized that it was eight o'clock past six minutes. The bus leaves in four minutes. "I have to rush to Lotto Park for practice now. Let's talk some other time." Nero says.

"All right." Sage smiled, giving her a seductive look. "Follow your practice, Mr. Superstar. But don't forget that you promised to take us to the quarter-finals of the Europa League. I'll support you as your big fan, of course." He said, throwing it out with his hands.

Nero smiled wryly, finding himself at a loss for words. He did not promise to help Anderlecht reach the quarter-finals of the Europa League. To the best of his knowledge, they had yet to conclude the conversation. But he did not try to refute Sage's mistakes. That would take more time already limited and delay his departure to Lotto Park. If he misses the next bus, he will have to wait 20 minutes until another bus leaves from his apartment location. So, he said goodbye to the Sage and rushed out of the building like the wind.

He slowed down as he reached the road to prevent himself from slipping on the partially frozen ground. He glanced over and noticed that the morning had brought along strands of white layers in contrast to the blue sky. They drift lazily in the breeze with no purpose or purpose. The good news is that there are no signs of a gray mixture in it, which means there may not be any precipitation on the day.

Nero is happy he doesn't have to train in rainy weather. He tightened the scarf around his neck and threw the Nike Brasilia sports bag over his shoulder and continued running towards the bus stop. In just a few minutes, he arrived when a light green ATB bus stopped in front of a group of passengers standing recklessly in front of the bus stop.

Nero first glanced at the Digital Information Display Unit in the shade to double-check if the bus would travel through Lotto Park before following the others into the vehicle. He swiped his bus card on the automatic fare collecting machine at the door and then found himself sitting next to the window. He then put his sports bag on his lap and put on his headphones as the bus started moving.

As he drove across the well-maintained streets of Brussels, he immersed his mind in listening to music and seeing buildings passing by. To him, there was something about listening to the beautiful tones and melodies that calmed his soul. He let his head sway gently with rhythm, and slowly, he let the music seep into his mind.

He feels happy and free.

He eventually began his journey as a professional footballer at one of Belgium's top clubs. There was a pleasure he had never felt before knowing that he would achieve his previous life dream of playing in Europe. Nero leaned against the bus seat and let happiness seep into his bones.

However, just as he was walking a few steps away from the bus station, he heard someone calling him. He took off his headphones and turned around only to realize that another Anderlecht player had been walking behind him all along.

Nero had seen him before at one or two Anderlecht training sessions he had attended before and he also knew him from his previous life. He is a Caucasian with a straight nose but slightly upward and thin lips. His dark brown hair styled into a style similar to the lighter versions of the army pieces gave him a playful atmosphere that radiated from his personality.

"Hello" said someone else. "I'm Alexsandar Mitrovic. I moved to this club in January. It seems you are also a player here." He reached out his hand to greet. "It's nice to meet you" he added with a smile.

"It's nice to meet you too" Nero replied as he shook his hand. "I'm Nero Juniar. I joined the club three days ago, to be exact. I just graduated from the academy." Inevitably he noticed some of the tattoos that Mitrovic had. Nero couldn't help but wonder why he was also using a crowded bus rather than his car because he looked like a stylish and haughty person.

"Oh, so you're a graduate of the academy" Mitrovic said with a grin. The two started walking together towards the stadium gate. "It looks like I saw you during some training sessions in February. Why did you just join the club?"

"Well," said Nero, trying to sort out what kind of information he should reveal to his new teammate. "Negotiation for my contract took longer than expected. However, I was still allowed to train with the club before sealing the deal since I graduated from the local academy."

"I think congratulations are in order" Mitrovic said with a laugh. "How old are you, by the way?"

"Eighteen," answered Nero briefly.

"Geez!" nicki exclaimed, leaning her head slightly and examining it. "You're only eighteen. Then you must be very talented to join a senior club at such a young age."

"I tried," Nero replied as they entered the tunnel leading to the dressing room. "So, which club did you come from before joining Anderlecht?" He asked, wanting to change the subject.

"Partizan" replied Mitrovic.

Nero dared to swear that he detected a hint of annoyance in his tone. So, he skillfully changed the topic once again. "And what number are you playing?"

"Interesting," Mitrovic replied with a grin. "I am number nine in body and soul. How's yours?"

"Middle line," Nero replied, a gentle smile adorning his face. "Middle, more specifically," he said.

"Hahaha," Mitrovic laughed out loud, embracing Nero's shoulder. "It's a good thing we don't have to compete for the same number. So, we can 'really' be good friends."

"I also thought so," Nero nodded, glancing at his watch. It's 8:40 in the morning. "But, can we talk later on the field? Right now, I have to go to logistics to pick up some supplies for the month. If I don't leave now, I will definitely be late for training."

"OK, see you, man," said Mitrovic, removing his arm from Nero's shoulder. "But better fast. The trainers usually arrive ten minutes before the start of training."

"Okay" answered Nero. "I'll be on the pitch in 10 minutes. See you there." He waved before rushing towards the logistics department.

Three minutes later, Nero picked up his gear consisting of a set of exercise jerseys, boots, shin guards, ankle guards, and some ointments from the logistics. He rushed to his locker and stored up supplies before dressing up and heading to the training ground. He was finally ready for his first training session as an Anderlecht player.