Kaiden - Small Town, Big Problems

It had been raining nonstop all weekend, fat drops sliding down the tall windows of my apartment, leaving uneven trails across the glass. From here, I could see the Eldermoor fields in the distance—empty, drowned in grey. Training had been cancelled again.

Eldermoor wasn’t built for storms like this.

I exhaled. Part of me was relieved to have a free weekend. The other part—restless, pacing—had no idea what to do with the empty hours.

My thoughts drifted where I didn’t want them to.

How did dinner go with Nathaniel and Freya? Did he stay the night? Did she ask him to?

A dull ache pressed beneath my ribs. Barefoot, wearing only sweatpants, I padded across the quiet apartment. Without all the titles—player, assistant manager, mentor, I was just Kaiden.

Somehow, that felt heavier than anything else. I opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of cold water. That’s when my doorbell rang.

I froze. Nobody rings my bell. Nobody ever comes over.

For a second, I considered pretending I wasn’t home.

The bell rang again.

“Oh, thank God,” Leo said. “For a moment, I thought I had the wrong address.” He stood there, soaked, hair dripping, half-crouched to protect a stack of papers. His eyes were wide and jittery—clearly the victim of too much caffeine.

“Hey,” I managed.

He barreled inside before I could say more, shaking off rain and spreading papers across the table like he owned the place. He took in my industrial-style décor with a half-hidden grimace.

“Nice place,” he said. “Very… city.”

I resisted the urge to point out that he clearly hated it.

“Big news!” he announced, arms flung wide.

“Lay it on.”

“The soccer summit is approved by the town council!”

He paused dramatically, waiting for applause.

“It’s been, what—two weeks since you mentioned it?” I asked, half-impressed, half-wary. “How did you push that through so fast?”

“Technically sixteen days,” he corrected. “And I already had approval for the fall and spring weekend camps, so this was easy to pitch. Just imagine it—kids from different countries coming to Eldermoor. Small town, big dreams.”

I dropped onto the couch and motioned for him to sit.

“Spring is a good choice,” I said. “Eighteen months is manageable.”

Leo blinked. “Oh. No. This spring.”

My mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

“You mean this spring—as in six months from now?”

He nodded enthusiastically, like I was the slow one.

I dragged both hands through my hair. “Jesus, Leo. Six months? What were you thinking?” Had he taken one header too many this week?

“The logistics alone will be hell,” I said, slipping into manager mode. “Housing, staff, food—Leo, we need numbers.”

He clutched the papers to his chest. “Well… I was thinking about a hundred people. Give or take fifty.”

A hundred. Give or take fifty.

“And you can house them at The Old Mill!” he added, beaming.

I stared. “You want me to put a hundred and fifty people into a forty-room hotel? Should I install bunk beds in the hallway?”

“See?” Leo said brightly. “This is why I came to you. You see solutions, not problems.” “Oh no,” I said flatly. “Don’t flatter me like that.”

I rubbed my temples. “I have reservations through early summer. Do you know what you’re asking? Cancelling weddings, blocking out rooms for a week ....”

“Just tell them it’s for the summit,” Leo said, completely unfazed. “Use your charm. They’ll understand.”

I barked a disbelieving laugh. “Leo, they don’t give a fuck about football.”

“Then tell them it’s for youth development,” he insisted. “And maybe ask some of your VIP guests about sponsoring.”

I stared at him.

This was either a dream or a caffeine-induced hallucination.

I walked to the window, pressed my palm to the cold glass, and let the rain steady me. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in Leo’s vision. I did—more than I wanted to admit.

My younger self would’ve sold his soul for something like this. Maybe I owed him that much.

“Fine,” I said at last. “I’ll handle housing. And the logistics.”

Behind me, Leo actually jumped, his excitement rattling the floorboards. I held up a hand before he could explode again.

“Until March, we check in monthly. After that, weekly. No exceptions.”

Leo nodded vigorously, eyes shining. I sighed. “I need something stronger than water.” “You want a beer?” I asked. Leo lit up like a kid. “Absolutely. We are so onto something big.”

I grabbed two bottles, twisted off the caps, and clinked them together. Leo drank as if this were the best day of his life.

He stayed just long enough for his clothes to stop dripping, then grabbed his jacket and darted out the door, leaving the stack of papers behind, of course. Silence settled over the apartment again.

I stared at the rain-smudged papers spread across my table and let out a tired laugh.

This was going to swallow my entire weekend. And probably Monday too.

❤️ Maliyka ❤️