c10 - Let Me Go to Work?
Vardy no longer knew what to say to the couple in front of him. Why did they feel so good about themselves?
"You can dream about becoming a big star all you want, but before that happens, can you stop blocking my way? Otherwise, it just makes me think you're auditioning to be a bouncer."
Vardy sighed, dropped the line coldly, and walked away, ignoring the couple's faces turning red with anger.
"What are you looking at? Be careful, or I'll make sure you regret it!" The burly man's threats rang out behind him, but Vardy didn't even bother to turn around. He just waved his hand dismissively, as if to say—I'll be waiting.
Now, he was certain—this guy had a laughable sense of self-worth. Maybe it was because he grew up in a working-class environment, but his taste was seriously questionable. Whether it was this makeup-caked woman or the girlfriend from his past life, both proved the point.
But now that he had a fresh start in life, there were plenty of incredible women waiting to be impressed—he wasn't about to waste time on these lower-league characters.
---
When he walked into his house, Vardy had almost forgotten about his earlier anxiety. But as soon as he saw his mother rushing toward him with open arms, his heart jumped again.
"My little Jamie, how was today's match? You just got into the first team, so it's normal not to get minutes yet. Don't be discouraged—you'll get your chance soon!"
She must have noticed his stunned expression and assumed he was frustrated about not playing, so she tried to console him.
His father, sitting on the sofa, had a serious expression. "Boys need to toughen up—feeling sorry for yourself won't get you anywhere."
It sounded strict, but Vardy caught the concern in his father's eyes. The warmth in that subtle glance made him relax a little.
"Looks like I'm a better actor than I thought—you're both completely fooled!" Vardy grinned, playing along.
His parents exchanged puzzled looks, unsure of what he meant.
"I came on as a substitute today. We were two goals down, but I sparked two counterattacks to help the team draw level. I was the hero of the match!" Vardy stood in the middle of the living room, hands on his hips, head held high, letting out an exaggerated laugh.
Instead of celebrating, his parents just stared at him like he had gone insane. Clearly, they thought he had suffered a serious mental blow.
"Sit down and eat, Jamie. We actually need to talk to you," his father said, cutting his laughter short with a cough.
Vardy was about to bring up Manchester United's interest in him anyway, so this was a good opportunity.
"You're nearly an adult now," his father began. "Looking at the situation realistically, football isn't a stable way to make a living. You don't seem interested in school either, so we've talked it over and decided that it's time for you to start working. Your uncle is a manager at a medical equipment factory, and he's willing to get you an internship. You won't have to struggle too much."
A medical equipment factory?
Wasn't this the same job he had before making it as a professional footballer?
Back then, he worked at a factory that specialized in making artificial limbs, where his job was to load carbon fiber into a reactor. It was just a way to make ends meet because his non-league football wages were barely £30 a week—hardly enough to survive on.
So, no matter what universe he was in, he still couldn't escape this fate?
In England, there's no such thing as 'living off your parents' once you reach adulthood. Either you continue studying, or you start earning.
To his parents, football had always been a long shot. Vardy had some talent—he was fast—but it wasn't enough to set him apart from thousands of other young players. After all, if he was that special, Sheffield Wednesday wouldn't have released him. So, they wanted to get him a steady job before he wasted too much time chasing a dream.
Seeing his parents waiting for an answer, Vardy took a moment to think. Naturally, he wasn't about to go work in a factory. Even if Manchester United hadn't scouted him, he still had the system. With that in his corner, football was his destiny—not pushing carbon fiber into a machine.
After a brief pause, he said, "Actually, Manchester United had a scout at today's match. He was really interested in me and invited me to their youth academy. I still want to be a professional footballer, so I said yes."
His parents looked like they had been struck by lightning.
Is he joking?
That was the first thought in both of their minds.
Vardy shrugged. He understood their reaction—this was completely out of nowhere for them.
After all, he wasn't even good enough for Sheffield Wednesday's youth team. How could Manchester United—the Manchester United—be interested in him?
It was like getting rejected by an ordinary girl, then suddenly being courted by a supermodel. It made no sense.
Seeing their skeptical expressions, Vardy pulled out a piece of paper—the scout's contact information, left by Langley.
"This is his number. You can call him if you want to confirm. Or just look him up online."
Now, his parents had no choice but to believe him.
They exchanged glances, still struggling to process the information. If Vardy had signed for a League One or League Two club, they would have been happy just knowing he could make a living playing football. But Manchester United? That was an entirely different world.
"Oh my God! I knew my son was the best!" His mother grabbed him in a tight embrace, nearly crying with joy.
His father, usually stern, had lost all composure. Even he couldn't act indifferent in the face of such a massive opportunity.
Needless to say, it was a sleepless night for the whole family.
As for working in a medical factory?
What factory? Never heard of it.
---
Lying in bed, Vardy stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. This was his first night in this new life, and it already felt overwhelming. It was as if all these seemingly random events were connected by an invisible thread, tying him to a destiny he never expected.
A big star system?
So, do I focus on becoming a football legend… or do I just embrace the madness and turn this into the wildest ride possible?