The platform at Thrissur railway station buzzed with life as the train to Ernakulam rolled in. Arjun stood with a small duffel bag at his feet and his Amma beside him, hiding her worry behind a forced smile.
He kept glancing at the train, then at her hand wrapped around his.
"You'll call when you reach Kochi, right?" she asked.
"I will."
"You have the ID card? Snacks?"
"Yes, Amma," he chuckled softly.
But behind the smile was tension. His stomach churned not from the journey, but from what waited on the other end — the Kerala Blasters U18 trial camp.
He wasn't just heading to a tryout. He was stepping toward a dream his family had never thought was possible.
A chance at something bigger. Something more.
---
As the train rattled along the tracks, Arjun stared out the window, watching paddy fields blur into towns, temples, and cranes near the outskirts of Kochi. But inside, his thoughts were loud.
> "This is it. No second chances. You have to make it."
The past life dreams had stopped—for now. But the pressure hadn't.
His fingers brushed the black wristband. Appa never got this far.
He would go all the way.
---
By the time he reached the training facility near Kaloor, the sun had dipped behind heavy clouds. The gates of the Kerala Blasters Youth Academy loomed large, painted in yellow and black, with a mural of cheering fans and the club's elephant crest.
Inside, over thirty boys his age had already arrived. Some from Trivandrum. Some from Manipur. One even from Dubai.
Every one of them looked sharp. Confident. Hungry.
Arjun's confidence faltered for a second. He wasn't used to turf grounds or structured drills. His boots were second-hand. His bag had a broken zip.
> "Do you belong here?"
"You're just some kid from Thrissur…"
But he shook off the voice.
He remembered his father, standing with a whistle around his neck and a tired smile, saying, "You're more than enough."
---
Day One began with a warm-up run, ball control drills, and passing accuracy tests.
Coach Sameer, a no-nonsense former I-League defender, ran the camp like a boot camp.
"Blasters football isn't just about flair!" he barked. "It's about discipline, decision-making, and grit! If you can't think with your feet, don't waste my time!"
Arjun's first day was rough. He slipped twice on the turf, his passes a fraction late. By lunch, he'd barely spoken a word to anyone.
But he noticed something — a boy named Faizan, fast and cocky, always watching him.
A smirk here. A shove during training.
> "There's always one," Arjun thought.
Faizan reminded him of a player from his past life — someone who elbowed him off the ball during a trial match in Austria.
But that time, he'd stayed quiet.
This time, he wouldn't.
---
Day Two.
Scrimmage matches.
Coach Sameer split them into four squads. Arjun was placed in Blue, along with a quiet striker named Roshan and a tall, clumsy defender from Kollam.
Their first match was against Faizan's squad.
The whistle blew.
Faizan made it personal from the first minute — fouling late, cutting into Arjun's passing lanes, shouting sarcastically every time Arjun made a mistake.
But Arjun didn't react. He adjusted.
He remembered the rhythm. The ball's heartbeat.
By the second half, he was gliding. His passes were cleaner, smarter. He orchestrated play like a conductor with a baton, moving teammates without saying a word.
In the final two minutes, he dribbled past Faizan with a body feint and sent a no-look assist to Roshan, who scored.
The crowd of coaches clapped.
Faizan stared at him, breathless and confused.
> "You don't own this ground," Arjun muttered to himself. "I do."
---
That night, the lights in the hostel flickered as rain began to fall. Arjun lay on his bunk, headphones in but music off.
He stared at the ceiling, chest still rising from adrenaline.
"Tomorrow's the final cut," Roshan whispered from the other bunk.
Arjun nodded.
"I think we did good," Roshan added.
"I hope we did enough."
---
Day Three.
Final trials. Full-pitch game.
This time, coaches lined the sidelines. Blasters technical staff. Even an assistant from the senior team was spotted near the gate.
Arjun didn't think. He just played.
And when the final whistle blew after 90 minutes, he walked to the sidelines not knowing if he'd made it or not.
Then Coach Sameer called out names.
Twenty-three were selected.
Arjun's name came second.
---
His legs gave out. He sat down right there on the grass, eyes wide, breath short.
> "Appa… I made it."
He reached for the wristband, kissed it.
Across the field, Faizan was staring — expression unreadable.
Arjun didn't look away.
Not this time.
---