BILLION DOLLAR SHOT

Chapter 4 – The Price of Light

The FC Titania locker room smelled of fresh turf, polish, and million-dollar egos. Everything gleamed brushed chrome, marble benches, personalized leather seats. Andre stepped inside, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, heart pounding.

A silence fell over the players. Muscles, designer watches, and gold-plated headphones. Some looked curious. Others indifferent. A few smirked hunters eyeing new prey. One of them, a tall, smug-looking striker named Mikhail Reznov, rose from his bench. “So this is the janitor,” he said in a thick accent. “TikTok baller.” A few chuckles.

Andre said nothing. Dropped his bag. Began lacing up his shoes. “Hope you’re more than a highlight reel,” Mikhail said, crossing his arms. “Because here, we eat soft boys alive.” Andre looked up.

“Guess you’ll choke on me.” The room went silent. One player snorted. Another whistled. Then the coach walked in. “Line up!” he barked. “We’re running drills. No favorites. No shortcuts. Welcome to war, boys.”

First Training Session Andre wasn’t just good. He was electric. He outpaced the forwards. He broke ankles with clean footwork. His vision on the court was surgical. Every pass hit like a sniper bullet. Every shot curved like it had its own orbit.

But there was blood in the water. Mikhail elbowed him mid-run. Another player “accidentally” stepped on his foot during a pivot. No one said it but the new kid was a threat. At the water station, Coach pulled Andre aside.

“You got fire, kid. But keep your head down.” Andre nodded. Then looked across the field at the players watching him with silent hate. Too late for that.

Later That Night – Andre’s Apartment in Europe It was a luxury penthouse overlooking the river. The kind of place he used to G****e at 3 a.m. while heating ramen.

Now, it was his. He sat alone at the window, sipping from a protein shake, phone lighting up again.

Teanna: “Hey... I’m sorry. I didn’t believe in you. I was scared. I shouldn’t have said those things. I miss us.”

Unknown number: “We went to school together. Remember me? I knew you were gonna make it one day. Can I visit sometime?”

Dalton (his ex-boss): “Listen, Andre… I was wrong. Let’s grab lunch. On me. I might even have a business idea for you.”

He didn’t respond to any of them. Instead, he opened his mom’s message:

Mom : “I saw the match clip. You looked like you belonged there. But don’t let the lights blind you. Keep God first.” Andre smiled. Then stared at himself in the mirror. No designer jacket, no million-dollar deal, no viral fame could erase what he saw there: The scars of being forgotten.

Meanwhile – Clive’s Office Clive picked up his phone. “Yes. He’s adjusting faster than expected,” he said. “But there’s chatter in the locker room.” A pause. “Keep an eye on Reznov. He sees Andre as a threat. If we don’t manage that, this team will eat itself.” Another pause. “No. Don’t warn Andre yet. Let him feel the heat. He’ll either melt… or forge.”

The Next Game – Titania vs. Madrid Strikers Andre was on the bench. First half only. Strategy. But the press was there. Cameras zoomed in every time he touched a ball during warm-ups. Then, thirty minutes in, Titania's midfielder limped off injured.

Coach looked down the bench. “Corbin. You’re in.” Andre’s heart kicked. Jersey tight. Shoes biting turf. The stadium buzzed with anticipation. The moment he stepped onto the court the world paused.

And then? Explosion.

His first touch: a smooth interception.

Second: a spin past two defenders.

Third: a through-pass that set up a goal.

By the end of the match, Titania won 103 - 91.

Andre didn’t score. But he had the crowd on its feet. He left the court drenched in sweat and applause. But back in the locker room… His locker was trashed. Clothes on the floor. Water bottle emptied into his sneakers.

No one claimed it. Mikhail passed behind him and muttered, “One match doesn’t make you family.” Andre stared at his soaked gear. Then looked Mikhail dead in the eyes. “I’m not here to be family,” he said. “I’m here to take your spot.”