Harry walked out onto the football pitch in disbelief. He'd just spoken to the head of local scouting for Manchester United. He'd been offered a contract with their youth team. A scholarship. He'd receive housing, access to full fitness facilities, and all the benefits of the youth team. He was actually going to Manchester.
"Yes," he'd exhaled, and Coach and Mr. Cooper had agreed to set up a real meeting. Coach Abrahams had reminded Harry about his desire to him an actual agent to help him navigate the signing. It was all over too quickly.
"Back to practice," Coach had said with a wink, and suddenly Harry was standing on the footie pitch, confused and scared.
What had he just done? he thought. What the fuck had he just done?!
In the moment of a breath, he had discarded Chelsea for United and not even considered the pros and cons of it. He hadn't considered the scholarly salaries, what the future prospects of getting into the A-team looked like, or even considered which city he'd live in. He'd only thought that Manchester was closer to Donny than London, and he'd be back here with Louis in two hours instead of four.
Oh, God.
What the hell had he done? Had he just said yes to United on the basis of his current, non-existent relationship with Louis? How stupid was he?
Football practice that morning swam by quickly in waves of thoughts, and Harry waded through it, mind at large. He didn't know what was going on, but his legs had run the pitch so many times they might've known each drill better than his actual mind. During the last water break, he sat on the bench, sipping on his bottle, when Louis approached. He wore his red training jersey and black socks, his brown fringe covering almost half of his face.
Harry, shocked out of his trance, simply looked at him.
"Hello," said Louis, and suddenly Harry realised what he had not thought of before.
There was no chance that two players could be offered a scholarship from a town like Donny. Manchester United had their own football academy with kids who'd played for them since under ten years old, and although they did always scout outside of it, it was extremely unlikely that two players from the same team ended up at one of the biggest clubs ever. It was statistically impossible.
So, had Harry, choosing United in order to be with Louis, actually inadvertently screwed any chance that Louis might have had at getting in at Manchester?
There were things I wanted, and I could already see you standing in the way of it.
Harry couldn't answer. He just stared, the pain of what he'd done beginning to settle in his gut.
For a long time, coming to a climax these last couple of weeks, he'd thought that if there was a chance that he and Louis would be together for longer than the summer, it would be if they'd both end up in Manchester. But how crazy was it to believe that would actually happen?
Instead, Harry had taken it all away from him.
Stupidly, he briefly believed that if he would've gone to Chelsea, then Louis might've had a chance to get in. He asked himself for minutes whether he'd fucked up Louis' chance at becoming a player for United, and simultaneously wanted to slam his fist into his head. What had he done?
No, another part of him resisted. Harry had been offered United because he was good enough. He was offered to play there because United wanted him. There was no list of applicants. It didn't work that way in football. They didn't even play the same position!
Moreover, would Louis have declined United for the sake of Harry's happiness?
No, he decided. Louis would definitely not. Not because he didn't care, but because he had a right to follow his dreams. So, why should Harry feel guilty? He shouldn't, but because he loved him, he did.
