The King Of Arsenal

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Stepping out of the car, he made his way to the front door, unlocking it and stepping inside. The warmth of home enveloped him, and he felt a wave of contentment. It had been a long day, but one filled with purpose and achievement.

The next morning, Francesco woke up to the soft glow of sunlight filtering through his bedroom curtains. His muscles ached pleasantly, a reminder of the hard-fought match from the night before. He stretched lazily, savoring the lingering feeling of satisfaction. After a few moments, he pushed himself out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

The warm water was invigorating, helping to shake off the last remnants of sleep. As the steam filled the room, Francesco let his mind drift back to the events of the previous day. The goal, the victory, the camaraderie—it all played back in vivid detail. He couldn't help but smile, feeling a deep sense of accomplishment.

After his shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed back to his room. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, prompting him to check for messages. There were a few texts from teammates congratulating him again on the win, and a couple from friends outside of football. He responded quickly, appreciating their support, before setting the phone down and getting dressed.

Once ready, Francesco made his way downstairs, the familiar smell of breakfast wafting through the house. He followed the scent to the kitchen, where his mom, Sarah, was bustling around the stove, finishing up a batch of mac and cheese. His dad, Mike, was already seated at the table, reading the morning paper, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him.

"Morning, champ," Mike greeted, glancing up from his paper with a proud smile. "You sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did," Francesco replied, taking a seat at the table. "Still riding the high from yesterday, though."

Sarah turned from the stove, her face lighting up when she saw him. "Good morning, sweetheart. Breakfast is almost ready."

Francesco watched as she carefully plated the mac and cheese, the familiar comfort food reminding him of countless mornings growing up. As she placed the dish in front of him, he felt a pang of nostalgia mixed with a growing sense of responsibility.

While waiting for his mom to serve the rest of the food, Francesco's mind wandered to thoughts of the future. The life of a professional footballer was intense, and he was beginning to realize the impact his career had on those around him. His parents had always been his biggest supporters, but the increased media attention was starting to invade their privacy.

He considered the idea of moving out, maybe renting an apartment closer to the training ground. Living alone would give him the space to focus on his career without worrying about the constant presence of reporters around his family home. It wasn't an easy decision—he loved being close to his parents—but it felt like the right move for their sake as well as his own.

The clinking of plates brought him back to the present. Sarah had finished serving breakfast, and the three of them settled in to eat. The conversation flowed easily, touching on everything from last night's game to plans for the weekend.

"So, what's on your mind, Francesco?" Sarah asked, her mother's intuition picking up on his thoughtful expression.

He hesitated for a moment, then decided to share his thoughts. "I've been thinking about moving out. Renting an apartment closer to the training ground. It's not that I don't love being here with you guys, but I think it might be better for all of us if I had my own place. The reporters... they're becoming a bit much."

Sarah and Mike exchanged a glance. Mike nodded thoughtfully, setting his coffee cup down. "We've noticed the increase in attention too," he admitted. "If you think it's the right time, we'll support you. It's part of growing up, after all."

Sarah reached across the table, squeezing Francesco's hand. "We'll always be here for you, no matter where you live. And honestly, it might be nice to have a bit more privacy."

Francesco felt a wave of relief wash over him. Their understanding and support meant the world to him. "Thanks, Mom, Dad. I'll start looking for a place soon."

They continued eating, the conversation light and filled with warmth. After breakfast, Francesco helped his mom clear the table, feeling a newfound sense of purpose.

Then he went on spent making a few calls, setting up viewings for potential apartments, and catching up on some much-needed rest. The decision to move out was a big one, but it also felt like the right move to help him grow both personally and professionally.

After making a few calls, Francesco leaned back in his chair, slightly frustrated. None of the options he'd found so far seemed to fit—either the locations were inconvenient or the prices were exorbitant. He sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. The idea of moving out was supposed to bring relief, not more stress.

As he sat there, pondering his next move, a thought struck him. His agent, Jorge Mendes, had an extensive network of connections. If anyone could find him the perfect apartment, it was Jorge. Picking up his phone again, Francesco scrolled through his contacts and quickly found Jorge's number. He pressed the call button and waited as the phone rang.

"Francesco!" Jorge's familiar, upbeat voice came through the line. "Congratulations on the game yesterday! You were phenomenal."

"Thanks, Jorge. I appreciate it," Francesco replied, a smile creeping onto his face despite his earlier frustration. "Listen, I need a favor. I'm thinking about moving out, but I'm having a hard time finding a good place. I was wondering if you might have any connections that could help me find an apartment—something close to the training ground, not too crazy on price."

There was a brief pause before Jorge responded. "Of course, Francesco. I know a few people who specialize in luxury rentals near your area. Give me a couple of hours, and I'll have some options for you. Trust me, we'll find you the perfect place."

"Thanks, Jorge. I knew I could count on you."

"Always, my friend. I'll be in touch soon," Jorge assured him before ending the call.

Feeling a renewed sense of hope, Francesco set his phone down and decided to use the waiting time productively. He grabbed a notebook and started jotting down a list of features he wanted in his new apartment—things like a decent kitchen, a comfortable living space, and a good view. He also made a mental note to ensure the building had a gym; staying in top shape was crucial for his career.

About two hours later, just as Francesco was finishing up his list, his phone buzzed again. It was a text from Jorge.

Jorge: Got some great options for you. Sending over the details now. Let me know what you think.

True to his word, Jorge had sent links to several apartments, each accompanied by photos and detailed descriptions. Francesco eagerly clicked through the options, his eyes lighting up as he reviewed each one. They were all in prime locations, close to the training ground, and within a reasonable price range.

One apartment, in particular, caught his attention. It was a modern two-bedroom flat located in a quiet neighborhood, just a short drive from the stadium. The photos showcased a sleek, open-plan living area with large windows that flooded the space with natural light. The kitchen was fully equipped with state-of-the-art appliances, and the bedrooms looked spacious and comfortable. Best of all, the building had a gym and a swimming pool, perfect for his training needs.

Francesco quickly texted Jorge back.

Francesco: The apartment on Garden Street looks amazing. Can we set up a viewing?

Jorge's response was almost immediate.

Jorge: Already ahead of you. Viewing is set for tomorrow morning. I'll meet you there at 10 AM.

Relieved and excited, Francesco leaned back in his chair. Things were finally falling into place. He spent the rest of the day relaxing, occasionally checking his phone for updates, and going over the details of the apartment again. The thought of having his own space was becoming more appealing by the minute.

The next morning, Francesco was up early, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. He dressed casually but neatly, wanting to make a good impression at the viewing. After a quick breakfast with his parents, he headed out, the familiar hum of his car engine soothing his nerves as he made his way to Garden Street.

As promised, Jorge was waiting for him outside the building, a broad smile on his face. "Morning, Francesco! Ready to see your potential new home?"

"Definitely," Francesco replied, shaking Jorge's hand. "Let's check it out."

They were greeted by the building manager, who led them up to the apartment. As they stepped inside, Francesco was immediately taken by the airy feel of the space. The large windows offered a stunning view of the city skyline, and the layout was even better in person than in the photos. He could already picture himself unwinding in the living room after a long day of training or cooking dinner in the sleek kitchen.

Jorge gave him a knowing look. "What do you think?"

Francesco nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "I love it. It feels right."

They spent some time exploring the rest of the apartment, checking out the bedrooms and the amenities the building had to offer. Everything met Francesco's needs perfectly, from the gym to the secure parking.

By the time they left, Francesco was convinced this was the place for him. He turned to Jorge as they stood by his car. "Let's make it happen. I want this apartment."

Jorge clapped him on the shoulder, clearly pleased. "Consider it done. I'll handle all the paperwork. You focus on your game, and we'll have you moved in no time."

As they stood by the car, the excitement of finding the perfect apartment lingered in the air. Francesco, still absorbing the reality of having his own space soon, turned to Jorge with a question that had been on his mind.

"So, how much is it?" he asked, a hint of concern creeping into his voice. He knew that a place like this wouldn't come cheap, and while he was eager to move, he didn't want to overextend himself financially.

Jorge chuckled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Don't worry about it, Francesco. This time, I've got you covered. I'll pay the rent for the first year."

Francesco's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Seriously? Jorge, you don't have to do that."

Jorge waved off his concern with a casual flick of his hand. "Consider it an investment in your future. Besides," he added with a sly grin, "once you see the sponsorship deals I've lined up for you, paying for this apartment will be the least of your worries."

Francesco tilted his head, intrigued. "Sponsorship deals? What are you talking about?"

Jorge's grin widened. "Oh, just a few contracts that are going to set you up nicely. I'll show you everything tomorrow. Trust me, after we go over the details, you'll be able to buy a villa or a mansion in London if you want. And maybe even upgrade that car of yours to something a bit more… sporty."

Francesco laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're unbelievable, Jorge. But seriously, thank you. This means a lot."

Jorge clapped him on the shoulder. "You've earned it, Francesco. Now, let me handle the preparations for the apartment so you can move in tomorrow. In the meantime, you should head home and start packing your stuff."

The reality of moving in so soon hit Francesco all at once. "Tomorrow? That's fast."

"Well, no point in waiting around, right?" Jorge replied with a wink. "I'll take care of everything here. You just focus on getting your things ready."

As they parted ways, Francesco couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over him. Jorge had always believed in him, and now he was going above and beyond to make sure he was set up for success both on and off the field. It was a level of support that didn't go unnoticed.

On the drive home, Francesco's mind buzzed with thoughts of the new apartment. The idea of having his own space, a place where he could unwind and focus on his career, was becoming more and more appealing. He imagined setting up his bedroom, arranging his training gear in the gym, and even cooking meals in that sleek, modern kitchen.

When he arrived home, his parents were in the living room, their faces lighting up as he walked in. "How did it go?" his mother asked eagerly.

Francesco couldn't contain his excitement. "It was perfect. I found the apartment I want, and Jorge is handling everything. I'll be moving in tomorrow."

His father raised an eyebrow. "Tomorrow? That's quick."

"I know," Francesco admitted, "but Jorge is taking care of all the details. I just need to pack my stuff tonight."

His mother smiled warmly, pride evident in her eyes. "We're so happy for you, Francesco. You've worked hard for this."

"Thanks, Mom," he replied, giving her a quick hug before heading upstairs to his room.

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of packing and organizing. Francesco went through his belongings, carefully selecting what he would take with him to the new apartment. His parents helped, offering advice and reminiscing about old times as they packed.

By the time night fell, Francesco's room was filled with boxes, each one labeled and ready for the move. Exhausted but satisfied, he collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Tomorrow marked the beginning of a new chapter in his life, one filled with promise and opportunity.

The next morning, Jorge called early to confirm that everything was ready. "The apartment is all set for you, Francesco. I'll meet you there later to hand over the keys and go over a few final details."

Francesco thanked him and hung up, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. After a quick breakfast with his parents, they helped him load his things into the car. His mother fussed over him, making sure he had everything he needed, while his father offered practical advice about living on his own.

As they drove to the new apartment, Francesco felt a twinge of sadness at leaving his childhood home. But that feeling was quickly replaced by anticipation as they pulled up to the building. Jorge was waiting for them, his ever-present smile in place.

"Welcome to your new home, Francesco," he said, handing over the keys with a flourish. "Let's get you settled in."

With Jorge's help, they quickly unloaded the car and brought everything up to the apartment. Francesco's parents looked around, clearly impressed by the space. His mother couldn't stop marveling at the view, while his father nodded approvingly at the modern amenities.

"This is a great place, Francesco," his father said, clapping him on the back. "You've done well."

"Thanks, Dad," Francesco replied, feeling a swell of pride. "I couldn't have done it without you guys."

After spending some time setting up the essentials, his parents eventually said their goodbyes, leaving Francesco alone in his new apartment. He stood in the middle of the living room, taking it all in. This was his space now—a place where he could relax, recharge, and focus on his career.

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Name : Francesco Lee

Age : 16 (2014)

Birthplace : London, England

Football Club : Arsenal First Team

Championship History : None

Match Played: 12

Goal: 18

Assist: 7

MOTM: 5