It was the day after his hat trick
The campus buzzed louder than usual
Cristiano kept his head down
Some clapped his back
Others avoided his eyes
Not everyone likes seeing a crown handed early
He opened his locker
Boots still wet
Shin pads on the floor
And there it was
A folded piece of paper tucked beneath his socks
No name
No logo
Just one sentence
Let's see if you can do it when they're coming for you
Cristiano froze
Looked around
No one was watching
He unfolded it again
No signature
Just that one chilling line
He stuffed it in his pocket
Acted like nothing happened
But the words clung to his chest like ice
That evening
Coach Silva told him he'd be starting in the next friendly
Against the senior reserves
Big boys
Strong
Dirty tackles
No mercy
Perfect
He trained alone after dinner
Lights off
Just the moon cutting shadows across the field
Every cone drill
Every cut
He imagined someone chasing him
Like the note promised
Match day
He tied his boots slower than usual
The letter was in his sock
Folded twice
Pressed against his ankle like a silent challenge
The senior defenders laughed when they saw him
That's the kid?
Little goal machine?
We'll fix that
The whistle blew
Cristiano didn't smile
Didn't blink
First touch
Hard
He spun out
Landed on his back
Laughter from the sideline
He stood up
Didn't complain
Didn't shake off
He locked in
Next play
Ball zipped across midfield
He darted between two defenders
Took the pass
Faked left
Went right
The same guy who shoved him
Slipped
Cristiano lifted the ball over the keeper with a soft toe touch
One nil
The rest of the game was war
Tackles
Elbows
Trash talk
He answered with silence
And speed
By the final whistle it was 4–2
Cristiano with all four goals
The seniors left heads low
Some still laughing
But it was nervous laughter now
In the locker room he reached into his sock
The note was gone
Soaked and shredded
He looked in the mirror
Eyes sharp
Jaw tight
Let them come