Decision

The sun seemed even more agonizing than before. In a good weather, people walked around and enjoyed the sun. When the temperature rose more, it became too exhausting to even walk outside.

As he had been in the residential area of the city, he had seen very few people roaming outside. The streets were always less lively but now, they seemed lifeless. The more he walked towards the center the more his earlier assumption was proven wrong. Despite the heat being exhausting, it hadn't stopped people from pursuing their usual routine.

Nevan would have done the same, yet he didn't even touch his system today. He had been too busy with other things. Now as he slowly walked towards the same city park, his heart was beating a bit too fast to be healthy.

There was a commotion. A crowd around something, or rather someone. Nevan knew who it was as he walked closer. He made his way to the cause of this through the crowd. He stood there, looking at the man he had talked to just yesterday.

A smile was flashed in his direction. The man vaguely pointed somewhere. After a few moments, he seemed to get it. Nevan moved away from the crowd towards the café which was in the pointed direction. He would probably have to wait for that man.

Nevan ordered a cup of cocoa and settled down at a table with a good view of the park where he could see what the man was doing. He had taken a few sips as he thought about, what he was even doing. The call he had made in a morning haze, the sudden offer of a meeting. It was still going through his mind.

The cup rested in front of him as he waited for Mr. Sinclair to arrive. There was no pressure. This meeting didn't automatically mean, he would have to join his club. This was just to get an idea of what opportunities he had.

He noticed how the crowd started to move. Eiran Sinclair was gone and people seemed to realize it now. He was nowhere to be found which confused Nevan. Where was he?

The door opened. A man entered the café. He was wearing different clothes and with a cap and glasses, he could be mistaken for someone else but Nevan knew this was the one he was waiting for.

He ordered something and sat down across from Nevan as if this place belonged to him. "Good morning, Nevan." Was this greeting acceptable at around 12 p.m.?

"Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Sinclair." Nevan replied. His presence made him sit straighter without even realizing it.

Eiran took a sip of his espresso as he looked at the young man in front of him. "Good thing, you reached out to me today. You are certainly lucky. I have a flight to Seoul in four hours."

"Oh, yeah? I guess, I can call myself lucky, then." Nevan grinned, finally grabbing his cup to savor a bit of the sweet beverage.

The café was packed even at this time. Coffee was much needed at every hour so people often dropped by to get some and the location of this place, right in the middle of the city where tourists seemed to flow like water in an ocean was favouring the sales even more.

"This is our first meeting and considering my schedule the last until I am return." Mr. Sinclair seemed anything but serious right now. As if Nevan and him knew each other since ages. "You said, you wanted to know something?"

Nevan leaned back as he inspected the light brown liquid in his cup. He nodded then. "Your offer about joining your club..." He started but paused. "Is that still available?"

The corner of his lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. Nevan, being distracted, didn't even notice the subtle movement. "Honestly? I don't even have a club. I was just feeling like messing around that day."

Nevan had just taken a sip. It got caught in his throat as he heard those words. He coughed, quickly covering his mouth with his elbow. "What? You played with my heart?"

"Now, now. You are sounding like I put some serious damage to your heart, Nevan." Eiran sounded amused, a grin playing on his face now.

He had thought about the offer over and over again. Gone over the pros and cons whenever he had time to think about it. So, hearing it was just for his entertainment actually hit hard. "Why did you agree to meet up today, then?"

There was a pause. Nevan couldn't see his expression clear enough due to the sunglasses covering the majority of his face. His expression had turned serious though. "To give you some advice." He finally spoke.

"Advice? What advice?" Nevan asked, a hint of annoyance laced his tone. He looked out of the window. His eyebrows twitched ever so slightly.

This seemed funny to Mr. Sinclair. "Come on, show me some respect. You know, who I am, right?"

Nevan glanced over at the man again. He scoffed. "Tch. Of course. Eiran Sinclair, a man considered to be a legend in the soccer society."

He suddenly looked around and then leaned forward. His voice dropped slightly. "Come on, don't be so loud." A pause. The man leaned back and grinned again, showing his white teeth. "But yes, that would be me. You realize how much people would be willing to pay to sit where you are sitting right now?"

Nevan nodded. Of course, he knew. A lot of money. Yesterday, when he had watched the interview on the billboard, he had noticed how crazy people were for him. Even those who didn't know much about soccer seemed to know him. Expect for Nevan. He had never been interested in such things, considering his family background. But his father knew Eiran.

"What is your goal, Nevan?" The man suddenly asked. He seemed geniuely interested.

Nevan was taken aback but he replied as if he had waited for this question. "To become a professional soccer athlete."

Eiran Sinclair placed the cup on the table and crossed his arms. "That's all? Your goal ends as soon as you sign a contract with a team?" Nevan hesitated. Was that what he wanted? Yes, become a professional athlete and then go back home. That was his plan. "That is too frivolous."

It offended Nevan a bit. "Too frivolous? What do you mean?"

"A child can say the same thing. I bet, even you have said that in an age of five. Some might succeed when having just such a goal on their mind but most of them end up becoming regular corporate workers." He leaned forward again, taking off his sunglasses. His eyes were narrowed. "What do you think distinguishes these people from actual professional athletes?"

Nevan looked at him, a bit overwhelmed by a question which didn't seem to have any right answer. "I don't know." He finally said.

Suddenly Mr. Sinclair cracked a smile again. He shoved the sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Oh, knowing that you don't have knowledge on something is a good first step."

"I was the same." The man admitted. "Whenever you play soccer, ask yourself about the purpose of it. Why do you keep running behind a sphere?"

He finally grabbed his cup again and nipped at it to feel the bitter liquid flow down his throat. He looked out of the window to the sky, seemingly in his thoughts. Nevan didn't dare to disturb him, choosing to rather taste the sweetness of his cocoa.

A purpose. That was, what he had said, huh? So, striving to become a professional athlete wasn't enough? He had to think of something better? What could that be? Purpose as in doing something for the greater good or prove himself? Dax was doing this for money. He came from a family with a jumble background. Keisuke was doing this because he wasn't made for a normal corporate job.

Was it not enough that Nevan was doing this because he had no choice? He could only get his identity of being 'Nevan Ayers' back if he completed the task of becoming a professional athlete. That was enough reason for him. For now.

"Don't break your pretty head over my words, Nevan." His voice sounded again. "I know, what you are doing here. But forcing a reason isn't going to help it. The more you grow, the more your surroundings will change. And the more reasons you will have to choose from."

"I see." Nevan spoke. The reason for this meeting didn't even exist. The club. Yet, Mr. Sinclair had given him an advice. He finished his drink before leaning back once more. He hadn't even noticed how he had leaned forward.

A smile was playing on his lips. Eiran Sinclair kept following Nevan's movements before he spoke again. "Okay, I made up my mind."

Nevan looked up at him. His eyebrows shot up by the sudden words. "What do you mean?"

"I will be your mentor." His smile widened as he excitedely finished his coffee as well. "Not in a way like 'I will recommend your everywhere and guarantee your success' but more like give you a direction and guidance."

Nevan's mouth hung open. He wanted to speak up and tell him something but words didn't come out. He simply stared at him.

"What? Want me to take back my offer?" The man asked.

The younger one quickly shook his head. "No! No. I would love some guidance."

"Knew it." Eiran stated in a matter-of-factly voice as he smirked.