"What do you think I should do, boss?" he asked, his voice a quiet, trembling whisper. And in that moment, I was faced with the impossible choice that had been haunting me all morning.
I could tell him the truth, the system's truth: that it was too soon, that he wasn't ready, that it was a mistake that could cost him everything. Or I could support him, encourage him, tell him to seize the opportunity he had so richly deserved.
It was a battle between my head and my heart, between my ambition and my conscience. I looked at him, at this brilliant, broken, beautiful kid who had trusted me with his last, desperate hope, and I knew I couldn't lie to him.
But I couldn't make the choice for him either. "What do you want, Eze?" I asked, my voice hoarse. "Not what the club wants. Not what I want. What do you want?"
