Second Chances: Indonesian Football Player
Chapter 35's
Mercx's smile widened as he walked closer towards them. "I said you were a coward, the charity box Anderlecht had just fed here in Brussels. One of you played a game and thought he was the star of this generation. But, he's just a loser like the others. ribbon." He grinned viciously at Nero, who was already at the top of the stairs.
I sighed softly. I don't believe that a professional athlete with such a stupid mindset is at one of the leading international academies in the developed world.
Although Mercx had graduated from RSCA Youth Academy and joined Anderlecht U-19, he still behaved like a child. He started verbally insulting me when he saw me talking to Sage before the match with Zulte the year before.
"Let's go" I said as I turned away from Mercx and his cronies. "We have to go to class." I felt angry, but I knew I had to ignore the fool. I don't intend to jeopardize my sports scholarship.
"Why do you put up with his insults?" Ryandi asked as soon as he got to my side.
I glanced at Ryandi and shook my head. The short boy did not know the ways of the world. "Let me ask you this" I said. "What will I gain from fighting or fighting with him?"
"You can maintain your dignity and honor," Stefan replied as they moved away from the stairs, through the hallway, and towards their classroom on the second floor.
I smile. "I can't live with both." I stretched my hand to emphasize his point. The others stopped bothering me as soon as I gave them an answer. They remained silent, looking like they were contemplating— until they entered their small yet comfortable classroom.
A reading table with padded chairs is placed around the podium with a large whiteboard that runs from corner to corner one of the walls of — painted light green.
Our other classmates have arrived. They stood in groups of two and three scattered throughout the classroom.
"You're finally here" muttered the female voice, slightly stammering, issuing consonants and vowels into an exotic French accent.
I turned only to lock my eyes with a stunning young woman with blonde hair worn in a long braid that fell over her slender shoulders. His blue eyes were burning with a sensuality that could easily capture the heart of the loudest man. The crimped dark green silk blouse could not hide the curves of her fertile cleavage while her denim jeans stuck to her hips, accentuating her thigh line.
Stefan, who thinks of himself as Casanova, nudged himself between me and the girl and bowed little to her. "Good morning, Maria." His conduct reflects knightly chivalry in old medieval films.
Maria Leroy looked at Paul curvingly and said, "Your bow is not the least bit funny. You're turning into a parent."
"But the beautiful old man," said the voice of both—and the second beauty, indistinguishable from Maia except that she tied her hair into a ponytail. She looked like a supermodel in a fitting Anderlecht jersey. He hooked an arm over Stefan's shoulder and added, "My sister was just fussy because of the long piano rehearsal yesterday."
"Good morning, Amelie," whispered Stefan. "You look beautiful as always."
Amelie's mouth curved into a gentle smile. "Thank you," he said. "But you two are late today."
"We had a meeting with our head coach after our morning practice" Stefan replied, sounding cheesy. The beauty of Leroy's two twin sisters has long fascinated him.
"Nero! How's practice?" said Maria. He had moved around Stefan and his sister to stand beside Nero once again.
"It's normal" I replied with a smile. "How's your violin training going?"
The two girls were among some of my classmates. They were both students at one of the music institutes in Brussels. They also take classes with special programs for part-time students at BIS.
BIS is an international school that accommodates the needs of international students studying in Brussels. Talented students from all fields can join a school for their secondary education.
"Just like always" answered Mary, once again looking at Nero. "You have not fulfilled your promise" he said.
"If you come to me for a discussion, I also claim to be busy practicing" murmured Maria.
"Why don't we adjust our plans to the autumn holidays" I said. "We'll have plenty of free time by then."
"Is that a promise?" Mary asked, her tone serious.
"Yes that." I nodded firmly.
"What do you two whisper?" Amelie interrupted their conversation as she positioned herself beside her sister. "Are you two ...?" However, before he could finish his question, the lecturer stepped through the door into the classroom.
"Let's calm the people—and let's learn German," said the male lecturer, sounding dramatic.
I spent the next three hours cramming German words and sentences that I could not understand. At 1pm, I had a light lunch with my friends before sitting back in class to study algebra. Most students lose their spirits as the minutes go by. It was as if they were taking part in an intense 90-minute football game rather than going to college.
I was always tired of equations and calculations during math lessons. I'd rather spend all my time on the field than in the classroom. But, I still held on to defend my scholarship.
Fortunately, the class lasted only an hour. At three in the afternoon, I headed to the RSCA training ground, where I began a long week of pre-match training with our teammates and coaches. I spent the whole night there and just returned to our apartment at 20:30 after a fancy dinner at the football academy.
After refreshing myself, I returned to my room and opened the system interface. I plan on making my first purchase from the system store after saving a large amount of points over the past year.
As I was about to start perusing through the user interface system, my phone's ringtone sounded like an irritated rattlesnake. I took it and glanced at the screen, it was from my mother who called.
“Jun!” my mother's hoarse but soothing voice rang out from the phone when I placed it near my ear. “Are you there.” He asked in Indonesian.
“Ya, bu.” I said reply. “Are you guys okay? How's the new house.?” I asked in a low tone, which still retains my obvious calf accent.
I managed to buy a new house for my family after saving half of my allowance for a year. With 1,000 Euros, I managed to buy a big house in Jakarta. I couldn't return to Indonesia in the summer because of my busy training schedule. However, I have sent money to my parents. I even bought my parents a new phone similar to mine for easier communication.
“Yes, we're fine here. And the house is quite comfortable, we are used to this new house.” Said.
“Quite about us.” Further. I could hear a depressed melancholic tone in his voice. It seems like he is not used to living in a new place. “Do you study and practice hard? When can we see you on television?” she asked.
I spent the next five minutes telling my mother about my life in Belgium. I talked about classes, training, the weather, and some other topics to convince my mom that I was safe.
I'm glad that I have a way to communicate with the figure of an old man I've known in both my lives. I never get tired of hearing their voices because it takes away all the longing I felt while in Belgium.
I realized that going back in time didn't turn me into a machine with only one goal; playing football. Sometimes, some of the feelings that I sometimes suppressed in my previous life would threaten to drown my mind.
During the Christmas holidays the year before, I spent hours staring at the white snow falling through my window, thinking about my family, who were in Jakarta. The snow that covered the earth that winter, as if it were an endless cushion of feathers, had left me homesick, making me long for home. That's why I felt like I had to buy a phone to better communicate with my family.
I haven't achieved the sort of nerves of steel that allow me to turn off everything else and just focus on football. However, I don't want to lose all my emotions and become a football maniac. I want to experience all that my new life has to offer while also being one of the best in world football. That was my goal.
