The Twelth Player

Chapter 4 - The Roomie

Friday night. The weekend's finally here, which means I'm off the hook from moving furniture. Can't wait to just chill at home. Well, as much as I can, considering I've got a roommate. His name's Michael, and he's a total wild card. Always cracking jokes. If you've ever seen Eddie Murphy, you'll get the vibe. But he's my best friend. When I moved back to Parodista, there was no way I was crashing at my parents' place again. Living alone? Out of the question. So, we worked out a deal, and now we're renting a pretty decent apartment together.

I walk in. Michael's already home, and something's off—it's quiet. Normally, he's blasting reggae or hip-hop.

"Man, it's so hot out. I'm dying of thirst," I mutter to myself.

"Dude, I'll grab you a glass of cold water. Drop your bag and meet me in the kitchen," Michael calls out.

I head to the kitchen, and there it is—a glass of water waiting for me. I take a big gulp, but...

"What the hell, this water's salty!"

Michael bursts out laughing, practically doubled over. I should've known—he had that suspicious grin plastered on his face. Got me again.

Friday night was FIFA night.

"How about a bet? If I win, you clean. If you win, I'll order dinner," I propose to Michael.

"Deal," he grins.

The FIFA match.

It was the usual story—Michael was running circles around me, dribbling like we were at a dance-off.

"What even is this? FIFA, not ballet!" I yell as he scores his third goal.

"Relax, man. It's all about strategy," he chuckles, sliding another goal past me.

But I wasn't about to give up. Second half, I went all in. From 0-3, I clawed my way back to 3-3.

"Draw! No dinner on me!" I cheer.

"Uh, no way! That's not how this works. We're going to overtime," Michael insists.

In overtime, he buries two more goals.

"Ha! Pizza's on you, buddy!" Michael crows, stretching out on the couch like a king.

Saturday. Matchday, or as we call it in Parodista, Heemspieltag. You don't even need to be a fan to know it's game day. The town square was packed with fans in blue-and-white striped jerseys, singing their hearts out. We were playing at home against SV Holzweiler—a team notorious for dirty fouls. Everyone knew it was going to be a battle.

"It's going to be a tough one today," the coach warned as we sat in the locker room. "Holzweiler plays rough, but we've got the brains. Be patient—they'll slip up."

When we stepped onto the pitch, the stadium was electric. The fan section unveiled a massive tifo, blue-and-white smoke flared into the air, and the atmosphere was absolutely insane. The crowd was chanting "Das Stadion brennt!"—the stadium's on fire. And yeah, it kinda was.

Game on!

First half.

It was brutal out there. Holzweiler was playing dirty, hacking at our ankles any chance they got. Their captain—a tank of a man—flattened me like a steamroller.

"Keep your head up, Matti!" the coach shouted as I picked myself up off the ground.

But our fans didn't let up, chanting "Union! Union!" from the stands. It lit a fire in me.

Second half.

We switched up our tactics. Taro got more space, and in the 65th minute, he broke through their defense. A perfect pass straight to me. All I had to do was bury it. Goal!

The stadium erupted. Fans were going nuts, jumping and chanting. Their energy pushed us forward. Holzweiler turtled up, parking the bus, but we kept the pressure on. Final score: 1-0. Hard-fought, well-earned victory. Our ultras were in full celebration mode, and I felt like we'd really achieved something today.

It was my third time picking up Katie from the Union Kids Center. This time, nobody asked me—not Erik, not Katie. I just went. On my own. Honestly, I liked spending time with Katie. But if I'm being real, I went because I wanted to see her. Elina. Not that I fully understood why. There was just something about her. Maybe it was the calm she radiated. Maybe it was how she always seemed unshaken. Or maybe it was just that, when I talked to her, the chaos of life quieted down for a bit.

When I walked into the center, I spotted her right away. She was standing by a table surrounded by a group of kids, all of them whispering excitedly. On the table in front of her was a box filled with cookies and other treats.She was handing them out to the kids, giving each one a carefully picked treat, and smiling warmly at all of them. The kids adored her. I noticed she looked each of them in the eye before giving them something. It was a small gesture, but it was so strong.

When I stepped closer, I asked if there was some kind of holiday or something today. One of the staff turned her head toward me and casually mentioned, "This is our Eli. She often buys something for the kids just because."

I stopped in my tracks. "Really?" I blurted out and quickly looked at Elina. She was still focused on the kids and seemed like she wasn't even thinking about what she had done.

"Yeah," the staff member nodded and leaned toward me, like she wanted me to know more. "She doesn't brag about it, but she always tries to make the kids happy. She thinks it's just part of her job."

I couldn't get it. Why would anyone do that? Why spend their own money when they didn't have to? When she finished handing out the sweets, I walked up to her.

"Elina," I said carefully. "Did you buy all these sweets?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"But... why?" I asked. I really didn't get it. "You don't have to do this. The club wouldn't even blame you if you didn't."

She looked at me like I said something she didn't understand. "There's more happiness in giving than in receiving," she said simply.

That sentence hit me. There was such certainty in her voice that I didn't know what to say for a moment. "How did you come up with that?" I finally asked.

"My mom taught me that," she replied with a quiet smile. "And it's not her words. Jesus said that."

Jesus. It was the first time I'd ever heard something like that from someone who meant it seriously. Not ironically or as a joke. Elina meant it. And as I looked at the way she was looking at me, I realized that she really lived that way.

"And why do you keep doing it?" I asked, still not understanding.

"Because it works," she said, pointing to the kids who were now playing with joy and laughter. "Look at them. That's the greatest happiness you can experience."

I didn't know what to say. I stood there, feeling something shift inside me. Maybe it was just a tiny spark, but it had power. Elina made me think about things I'd never fully admitted to myself. And when I thought about it, I realized that Elina really does find joy in this. Watching those kids, so happy over a few cookies, was totally worth it.