Seeing Ronaldo train made David pause. ’Is he really serious?’ he thought to himself.
Sure, David had co to the training ground early, but there was a reason for that—he wanted to impress the coach, to show his commitnt. He couldn’t lie to himself about that. Yet here was soone who had already accomplished almost everything there was to achieve in football, a man who didn’t need to prove himself to anyone, a living legend. And still, Ronaldo was here, long before most players, working up a sweat, breathing heavily as he pushed himself beyond the limits.
David had heard the stories—every player had. But seeing it in person was different. It hit differently.
One particular story ca to mind, sothing he had read in the news years ago.
Back in 2009, when Ronaldo was still a Manchester United player, he had crashed his Ferrari. The car had been completely totaled—bashed beyond recognition, destroyed beyond repair. It was a miracle he had made it out unhard. So even said it was as if God himself had intervened, refusing to let the world lose such a talent so soon.
But that wasn’t what had impressed David.
It was what had happened next.
The accident had occurred at 10 AM. By 11 AM, Ronaldo was at training.
One hour. Just one fucking hour after crashing a Ferrari, the man was already back on the pitch, focused on what mattered most—football.
That was the kind of ntality David wanted. That was the kind of mindset he needed. Football above all. No distractions. No excuses. No off days.
David was still lost in thought when a voice suddenly called out, snapping him out of his daze.
He felt his entire body tense up instinctively, as if he had been caught doing sothing he wasn’t supposed to. His muscles stiffened, his breath hitched slightly as he turned around. But the mont he did, a realization hit him.
’Wait... why the hell am I nervous?’
This wasn’t like him.
Then it dawned on him—he had been standing there, watching Ronaldo train like so awestruck fan. He had montarily forgotten that he wasn’t just a fan anymore. He was a player. A first-team player, just like Ronaldo.
He had no reason to feel intimidated. No reason to feel like he didn’t belong.
But Mohad? That was a different story.
Unlike David, he didn’t have the comfort of knowing he was a player, and it showed. His reaction was instant—panicked, frantic. "Sorry, sorry! I just wanted to see—then I didn’t know you were here! Not that I wouldn’t have co if you weren’t here, but I did co—no, that’s not what I an—" he rambled, his words spilling out in a jumbled ss.
David rolled his eyes. ’Of course, now he’s panicking.’
He turned his attention to the person who had called them out. The man didn’t look like staff—not in the usual sense, at least. There was sothing off. No club-branded attire, no visible identification.
David wasn’t about to let himself be pushed around by so random guy.
"I’m David Jones. I’m a player at the club. And this is Mohad. He’s a kit boy," he stated firmly. "He was showing around, and that’s how we ended up here."
The man turned to Mohad, his expression unreadable. Mohad, for once, decided it was best to keep his mouth shut and simply nodded in agreent.
Even then, the man still looked at them strangely, his gaze filled with doubt. David frowned slightly. He had no idea what the man was thinking, but he wasn’t about to stand there and be interrogated like a schoolboy caught sneaking into the principal’s office.
"I’ll be leaving now," he said flatly, giving Mohad a small gesture to follow.
As they started to walk away, the man spoke again.
"You guys should leave this area. This place is an off-zone."
David, who had already been halfway to the door, stopped in his tracks. His brows furrowed. "Off-zone?" he repeated, confused.
Before the man could answer, Mohad leaned in and whispered, "Yeah, that’s why I said we should sneak in. The weight room is off-limits for now."
David barely had ti to process that before the man squinted slightly, showing he had heard Mohad’s whisper.
"Yes," the man confird. "Until everyone is tested and cleared of the virus, no one is allowed inside. We can’t risk him getting infected."
David blinked. His mind stalled for a mont as he processed the words.
’Wait... they closed off an entire section of the building just for Ronaldo?’
Of course, he knew they had routine check-ups and dical screenings—it was all part of the schedule. But to shut down a whole part of the facility just to make sure one player remained safe? That was... sothing else.
David wasn’t upset. He wasn’t frustrated. If anything, he felt like Ronaldo deserved that kind of treatnt.
The best in the world weren’t treated like everyone else. They didn’t just get special treatnt. They earned it.
David had always believed in one of his personal mottos—’Why be jealous when you can strive to reach that level yourself?’
And today, standing here, seeing everything firsthand, that belief only strengthened.
The level of dedication, the mindset, the unwavering discipline—it was sothing to admire, sothing to work toward.
By the ti he and Mohad finally left the area, David felt sothing shift inside him.
In just a short while, just from watching Ronaldo train, a part of his ntality had been rewritten.
He felt different. More fired up than ever.
After seeing this he turned towards Mohad saying "later I want to go train too"
This Chapter is dedicated to each and every one of you who has been following this journey. Your ti, support, and enthusiasm an the world to . Thank you from the bottom of my heart for being a part of this story. Another Chapter is on the way—stay tuned, and once again, thank you so, so much!
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