Chapter 15: What's your name, miss?

One day passed just like that, and Lucas finally signed a one-year contract with Jonathan.

The day after signing with Jonathan, Lucas received a call from his new agent.

When the phone rang, Lucas felt a lot of excitement. Maybe this was the moment his career was about to take off. But as he listened to Carl(Carl Johnathan), his excitement quickly turned to confusion. The reason for the call wasn't what he had hoped.

"Commercial activities?" Lucas repeated, stunned. He couldn't believe his ears.

He had expected a discussion with higher-tier clubs or even some whispers of interest from Championship teams, not a commercial gig. He was just a League One player trying to make a name for himself—what kind of commercial activity could someone like him even attract?

"Yes, commercial activities!" Carl responded with enthusiasm. "One afternoon, and you'll earn five thousand pounds. Now, I know that number isn't mind-blowing like the deals Premier League stars get, but we've got to start somewhere, right?"

"Five thousand pounds?" Lucas touched his chin, weighing it in his head. It was significantly almost his monthly salary playing in League One, where wages were nowhere near the lucrative deals in the higher leagues.

Though his heart was set on securing a deal with a bigger club, earning some extra cash for an afternoon didn't seem like a bad idea. Plus, it would mean he could stop relying on his friend Reggie for meals every other day.

"What's the deal then?" Lucas asked. "What do I need to do?"

"It's simple," Carl said. "There's a promotional event at a local theme park. They want you to take part in a penalty shootout competition with visitors. If any of them beat you, they win prizes from the park. It's light and fun, and you'll walk away with five thousand pounds. Well, four thousand pounds after my 20% cut, of course."

Lucas rolled his eyes at Carl's last words. No wonder his new agent was pushing for this event. With 20% on the line, Carl stood to make a tidy sum himself without doing much more than making a few phone calls. Still, Lucas understood how it worked. Agents didn't help for free, and the cut was fair enough.

"Alright, fine," Lucas agreed. "But there's one thing: it can't interfere with my training. I need to keep my focus on the game."

"Of course, of course," Carl said quickly. "No conflict at all. I'll pick you up at four in the afternoon, and I promise you'll love the feeling of being treated like a star."

Hanging up, Lucas sighed. A penalty shootout event at a theme park? It felt more like a summer job than anything glamorous, but four thousand pounds would go a long way in helping him out.

---

After training that afternoon, Carl showed up right on time at the training ground. Lucas had to admit, his agent was good with punctuality. Not once had he been late in their two times working together.

"Let's go, superstar! I reckon you've got a crowd waiting for you already!" Carl shouted, poking his head out of the window as Lucas approached the car.

"Yeah, sure," Lucas muttered, not quite sharing Carl's enthusiasm. As soon as he got into the car, his mind drifted away from the event. "How are things going with the Championship or Premier League clubs?"

"Uh..." Carl stammered a bit. "Still working on it, man. But don't worry. You played well in the last match, but you'll need a few more good performances. If you can do that, I guarantee clubs will take notice. Step by step, Lucas. Let's start by winning over the fans at the park today!"

Carl's good mood was infectious, though Lucas still had his doubts. After all, Carl was pocketing an easy £1,000 just by getting him to this event.

As the car drove through the streets, they passed the home ground of Chelsea Football Club. Today wasn't a matchday, but fans were already gathered outside, milling around the merchandise stalls and chatting. Huge posters of Chelsea players adorned the stadium's exterior, players Lucas had admired for years.

He couldn't help but wonder: Would his career trajectory ever get him a place on a poster like that? Would this world be any different now that he was in it, or would history continue as before, with him being just another forgotten name?

They finally arrived at the theme park. Lucas had expected something grand, but as he stepped out of the car, he couldn't help but feel a bit let down. The park was smaller than he'd imagined, and there weren't as many people around as he'd expected.

"Alright, let's get this over with," Lucas mumbled as Carl led him toward the event area.

"Don't worry," Carl reassured him. "It's an easy gig—just take some penalties, maybe sign a few autographs, and you'll be home by dinner."

Just as they reached the area where the event was set up, a middle-aged man holding his wife's hand and dragging his children behind him stopped in his tracks. "Wait, you're Lucas Silva, aren't you?" he said, looking at Lucas with wide eyes. "Your last game was amazing! You helped secure Brentford's game in the last mat, that was a wonderful performance!"

Lucas blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected anyone to recognize him here, let alone praise his recent game.

"Can we take a photo?" the man asked excitement in his voice.

Lucas nodded, still a little stunned, and posed for the photo. The man beamed, his children grinning beside him. "Good luck in the League One, mate!" the man called as they walked away.

Lucas was still digesting the fact that someone recognized him when Carl clapped him on the shoulder. "See? I told you you're already making waves."

---

Meanwhile, not too far from where Lucas was, two girls were strolling through the park, chatting idly.

"I thought this place would be bigger," said Doua, the girl with short black hair, her voice carrying a hint of disappointment. "For a new park, it's not really that impressive."

Her friend, a blonde with a sunny disposition, smiled and shrugged. "Hey, look," she said, pointing ahead. "There's a crowd over there."

Rachel glanced in the direction her friend pointed, seeing a gathering of people near what looked like a small football pitch. Intrigued, the two girls made their way over to the crowd.

"What's going on here?" Doua asked one of the onlookers, her curiosity piqued.

"Apparently, a professional footballer is doing a penalty shootout challenge," the man said with a grin. "If anyone can beat him, they win a prize. So far, no one's managed to do it."

Doua's interest was immediately sparked. She was a football fan and, more importantly, an aspiring singer herself. Maybe this was her chance to become a celebrity.

Pushing through the crowd, she made her way to the front. She was hoping to see someone famous—maybe a Premier League star slumming it for some easy cash. But as she got a look at the man in the penalty box, her excitement dimmed. She didn't recognize him.

"Lucas Silva," the event host announced over the microphone. "The League One sensation who has everyone talking!"

Rachel frowned. League One? That explained why she hadn't heard of him before. He might be a pro, but he certainly wasn't at the level she had imagined.

Still, as she watched him, she couldn't help but notice his skill. He moved with the confidence of someone who knew his craft, effortlessly putting shot after shot past the keeper with pin-point accuracy.

"One last chance to challenge Lucas Silva!" the host called out. "Who's brave enough to take him on?"

Without thinking, Doua raised her hand. Anyway, she is just a young girl who don't know the height of the sky thinking she could do anything.

"That's what I'm talking about!" the host cheered as Doua stepped forward. "What's your name, miss?"

"Doua Lipa," she said confidently, taking the ball from the host. She locked eyes with Lucas, a determined smirk on her face. She was going to prove that she could beat a professional player and be a piece of sensational news.

END OF THE CHAPTER

STILL HUNGRY FOR POWER STONE