SWNOVELXO Chapter 26: Balancing the Game
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Chapter 26 – Balancing the Game
Room 302 smelled like sweat, popcorn, and bad decisions.
João stepped inside, hoodie half-zipped, trying not to look too awkward.
"Look who finally joined the living!" Rafael Leão yelled from the beanbag, PlayStation controller in hand.
"Shut up, Rafa," Bruno Paz chuckled. "Don't scare him off before he sits down."
João grinned, easing onto the edge of the bed. He wasn't great at these things, but tonight felt different. No training. No tactical drills. Just FIFA, banter, and being 15.
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"Alright, Félix," Tiago said, tossing him a controller. "You're playing with me. Left side."
João caught it, his reflexes sharp even off the pitch.
"Just so you know," he smirked, "I'm better with my feet than my thumbs."
"Good," Rafa said, "because your thumbs are trash."
João laughed. For once, it didn't feel forced.
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The match kicked off. Sporting vs. Benfica. Predictable.
"Play me short," João said, eyes locked on the screen.
"Hang on—" Tiago tried a long ball, straight to the keeper.
João nudged him. "What did we say about vertical passes, Tiago?"
"Don't start with your positional play talk, maestro."
Rafa cracked up. "Bro thinks he's Pep Guardiola now."
João shook his head, chuckling. "Nah, Pep wouldn't let you play."
"Facts," Bruno added. "Pep would bench Rafa for breathing too loudly."
"Hey!" Rafa threw a pillow across the room.
João ducked, laughing. For the first time all week, his chest felt lighter.
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Later, after four matches and two packets of cookies, the room quieted down.
Bruno leaned back against the wall. "You ever think about what we're doing, though?"
João raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"This." Bruno gestured around. "Training every day. Missing parties. Girlfriends. Normal life."
Rafa scoffed. "Who needs normal? We're gonna make it."
João stayed quiet. He thought about his parents back in Viseu, about Hugo practicing stepovers in the kitchen, about the late nights wondering if this was really worth it.
He wanted to say, "Sometimes I don't know if I'm cut out for all of this either."
Instead, he shrugged. "At least we're not working in a supermarket."
"Yeah," Rafa grinned, "but you'd probably be the cashier who keeps passing the ball back."
Everyone laughed. Even João.
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As the night wound down, the boys played one last match.
João controlled the ball in FIFA the same way he did in real life—calm, sharp, scanning for the next move.
"Square it, square it!" Tiago yelled.
João passed at the last second. Goal.
Rafa threw his hands up. "Bro! You're literally the same in the game."
"What?"
"You never shoot."
João smiled. "I like the assist."
"Yeah, yeah." Rafa rolled his eyes but gave him a friendly slap on the back. "You're alright, Félix. Even if you are a little weird."
João leaned back, controller in his lap. "We're all weird."
Nobody argued.
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As he walked back to his dorm, João felt something different.
For the first time since joining Sporting, he wasn't just the kid with the clever feet. He was part of something—a group, a team, a pack of teenagers chasing the same impossible dream.
Sure, he was still quiet. He still preferred training to small talk.
But tonight? He let himself be a kid again.
And for now, that was enough.
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