December 2025. Atlanta.
Kai Alexander stood in the center of the training pitch, hands on hips, chest rising and falling under the grey winter sky. The air smelled like rain and wet grass, but Kai barely noticed it. His mind was a million miles away, or maybe just a few thousand, in Europe, where he knew scouts were already whispering his name.
"Good session today," Coach Morales called out as the squad jogged off the pitch. "Big game Saturday. Keep your heads straight."
Kai nodded absently, offering a few fist bumps to his Atlanta United teammates as he peeled off toward the locker rooms.
Seventeen years old, the kid with the million-dollar feet — no, multi-million. Fast, technical, fearless. In half a season, he'd gone from a promising academy kid to the most electrifying name in the MLS. Seventeen goals. Eleven assists. Every highlight reel, every clickbait headline, they all screamed his name:
THE FUTURE OF AMERICAN SOCCER.
KAI ALEXANDER: ATLANTA'S GOLDEN BOY.
But nobody knew what was really going on once he left the bright lights behind.
Nobody knew about Robert.
"Where the hell you been?" Robert Alexander barked as soon as Kai stepped through the front door of the modest house they shared on Atlanta's south side. His father's breath already smelled like beer, even though it wasn't even 5 PM yet.
"Training," Kai muttered, throwing his gym bag onto the couch, careful not to meet his father's bloodshot eyes.
"Ohh, forgot about that really. You makin' money while you train?" Robert sneered, dragging himself up from the recliner. His gut hung over the waistband of his stained jeans, and his voice always had that sharp, dangerous edge when he was drunk — which was pretty much always these days.
Kai said nothing. He just went to the kitchen where his mom, Mikayla, was peeling potatoes, her hands moving fast, nervous. His little brother and sister, the twins Ethan and Ella, were huddled at the table, coloring quietly, pretending not to hear anything.
"Your agent called," Robert said, following Kai into the kitchen like a shadow. "Said them French clubs lookin'. Maybe Germans too. Big money, boy. Big money for us."
"Us," Kai repeated bitterly under his breath.
Robert didn't hear him. Or didn't care.
"Don't forget who set you up with Jerry." Robert jabbed a thick finger into Kai's chest. "Without me, you ain't shit. Ain't no MLS, ain't no Atlanta. Remember that."
Kai clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. Jerry, his so-called "agent," was just another leech Robert had picked, a washed-up former player who cared more about skimming Kai's paychecks than protecting his career. Every endorsement deal, every bonus, every goal bonus — Jerry and Robert took their cuts before Kai ever saw a dime.
All the cars, the jewelry, the expensive clothes Robert flaunted around town? Paid for by Kai's blood, sweat, and talent.
And his mom — she never fought back. Too scared. Too tired.
Kai knew he could walk away. Buy a condo downtown, live alone, get a real agent, cut his father off. But if he left… what would happen to Ella and Ethan? He couldn't trust Robert alone with them.
So he stayed. Trapped in a golden cage, with chains that looked a lot like family.
That night, after the house finally went quiet, Kai slipped out.
The city streets were alive, buzzing with neon signs and the low hum of bass from passing cars. He pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt and moved quick, keeping to the shadows, until he reached the cracked basketball courts behind an abandoned gas station.
"Yo, Superstar!" a voice called from the darkness.
Tez stepped out, arms spread wide, a wide grin splitting his face. Gold chains clinked against his black hoodie. His jeans sagged low, and a Glock tucked into his waistband gleamed under the streetlights.
Kai laughed and slapped hands with him.
Tez was trouble. Had been trouble since middle school. His name was well-known in Atlanta — for all the wrong reasons. Robberies, drug deals, gang fights. But he'd always had Kai's back.
"Man, you blowin' up for real now," Tez said, lighting a blunt. "Whole world watchin'. Europe callin'. You ready for all that?"
Kai shrugged, leaning against the rusty fence. "Guess I gotta be."
"You still my boy, right?" Tez said, squinting through the smoke.
"Always," Kai said without hesitation.
Tez grinned again. "Good. 'Cause if you make it big over there… we all eat, feel me?"
Kai didn't answer. He didn't want to think about it — how Tez and the old neighborhood would see him as a meal ticket just like Robert did.
He just wanted to play. Just wanted to be free.
The next morning, the media circus was waiting outside the training facility gates. Cameras flashed. Reporters shouted questions.
"Kai! Are the Bayern Munich rumors true?"
"Is it true Paris Saint-Germain made a bid?"
"Will you leave Atlanta United this January?"
Kai kept his head down, slipping inside without a word. The club's PR guy gave him a nod of approval. Good boy. Stay quiet. Stay clean.
If only they knew.
If they knew about Robert. About Jerry. About the late nights with Tez, the guns, the drugs, the danger.
If they knew, everything would come crashing down.
Kai couldn't let that happen. He was carrying too much — not just his own dreams, but his mom's, his siblings', the whole neighborhood's hopes.
He was carrying the weight of worlds on seventeen-year-old shoulders.
Coach Morales pulled him aside after training.
"Listen, kid," he said, tossing him a bottle of water. "You're doing everything right. You're killing it out there. Just… stay smart. The vultures are circling."
Kai nodded, feeling the warning underneath the praise.
"Big game Saturday," Morales said, slapping his back. "We need you ready."
"Who we got?" Kai asked, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"Orlando City," Morales said, grinning. "They're right behind us in the conference standings. Rivalry match. Could get ugly."
Kai smiled for the first time that day. Orlando City. He loved playing them. The energy. The bad blood. The way the crowd roared every time he touched the ball.
"Let it get ugly," Kai said. "I'm ready."
He had to be.
Because every game now was an audition. Every goal, every touch, every sprint — someone in Europe was watching.
Bayern Munich. Paris Saint-Germain. Juventus. Even Premier League teams like Liverpool and Arsenal were rumored to be sniffing around.
One good move, and he was gone. Out of Atlanta. Away from Robert. Away from the lies and the beatdowns and the fear.
One bad move… and he was stuck. Another wasted American talent.
That night, lying awake in his room, Kai stared at the cracked ceiling and listened to the twins snoring softly in the next room. His mom's quiet sobs behind the bedroom door. His father's loud snores from the living room couch.
He closed his eyes and pictured himself somewhere else.
Under the bright lights of the Allianz Arena. Scoring in front of the Kop at Anfield. Dancing past defenders in the Parc des Princes.
Freedom.
It was so close he could almost taste it.
But first… Saturday. Orlando City. Another battle. Another chance to prove he was bigger than this city, bigger than the MLS, bigger than everything that tried to chain him down.
Kai clenched his fists in the dark, his heart hammering with a mix of fear and excitement.
He wasn't just playing for three points anymore.
He was playing for his life.