Word spread faster than wildfire. By the time Gabriel returned to the youth training center, everyone already knew:
"He trained with the pros."
"He scored on Rossi!"
"Even Arrascaeta passed him the ball!"
The whispers filled the locker room. Some teammates looked at him with awe. Others with envy. And Lucas… Lucas just smirked, shaking his head.
"Don't get carried away, backyard boy. One lucky training session doesn't make you a star."
But even his tone carried something new—resentment.
---
Among Idols
The memory was still fresh in Gabriel's mind. He could hardly believe it had happened.
Arrascaeta, with his calm touch, had actually spoken to him.
"Move into space, garoto. Trust the ball will find you."
Everton Ribeiro, the captain, had clapped him on the back after a good run.
"Courage. That's Flamengo football."
And Gabigol—yes, Gabigol—had winked at him after his goal.
"Careful, kid. That's my territory," he'd joked, but the smile carried respect.
For Gabriel, those moments were treasures. Proof that he belonged, at least for one day, among giants.
---
Changed Eyes
Back at the base, the coaches watched him differently. Every drill, every touch of the ball was measured more carefully. Mistakes weren't just corrected—they were judged. Expectations had doubled overnight.
One assistant coach pulled him aside.
"You've caught attention, Silva. But remember, attention is a double-edged sword. People will watch you now, waiting for brilliance… or for failure."
Gabriel nodded, his throat tight. He felt the weight. But he also felt the fire.
---
Reactions
João grinned when they sat together at dinner.
"Meu irmão, you trained with Arrascaeta! If I were you, I wouldn't wash that shirt ever again."
Gabriel laughed, a tired, honest laugh. "It's still just football. Same grass, same ball."
"Same ball, maybe. But not the same world." João's voice softened. "Be careful, Biel. Pressure makes diamonds… but it also crushes stones."
Lucas, meanwhile, grew sharper, more hostile. During practice, every duel between them carried sparks. Every time Gabriel scored, Lucas played harder, rougher, desperate to reclaim the spotlight.
---
The Promise
That night, Gabriel lay in bed, staring at the shirt he'd worn in training with the first team. It wasn't signed. It wasn't framed. Just a shirt, damp with sweat.
But to him, it was proof. A seed of destiny.
He clenched his fists, whispering into the dark:
"One day, I'll wear this shirt—not as a visitor, not as a fill-in—but as a Flamengo player. In the Maracanã. In front of the world."
And with that vow, sleep finally found him.