The alarm buzzed at exactly seven.
Álex reached out from beneath the blanket and silenced it before it could wake the rest of the room. For a moment he remained still, staring at the white ceiling above his bunk.
Sunday.
Matchday.
There was something different about waking up on a matchday. The academy hostel always felt quieter, as though everyone instinctively spoke less to save their energy for ninety minutes that hadn't even begun.
He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before swinging his legs onto the cool floor. Across the room, Javi Torres was already awake, tying the laces of a pair of white trainers.
"You've been awake long?" Álex asked, his voice still rough from sleep.
Javi looked up with a grin.
"About ten minutes."
"You couldn't sleep?"
"I slept."
Javi shrugged.
"I just woke up before my alarm."
Álex smiled.
That usually meant one thing.
Nerves.
Javi would never admit it.
Neither would Álex.
The two boys finished getting ready in comfortable silence before stepping into the corridor. Doors opened one after another as players emerged from their rooms, some stretching, others still yawning.
Further down the hallway, Johan Villa appeared carrying a towel over one shoulder.
"Morning."
"Morning," several voices answered.
Boyko wandered out a few seconds later, his hair refusing to cooperate with gravity.
"You look like you lost a fight with your pillow," Johan laughed.
"I won," Boyko replied. "The pillow surrendered."
The hallway filled with laughter.
Small moments like that mattered.
By lunchtime, every player would be carrying the same pressure.
For now...
They were simply teenagers walking to breakfast.
The academy dining hall smelled of toasted bread, scrambled eggs and fresh fruit.
Nutritionists had already arranged the meals according to the matchday plan.
Nothing heavy.
Nothing fried.
Enough carbohydrates to fuel ninety minutes without leaving players sluggish.
Gamón arrived with his tray and sat beside Carlos Alós.
"You two sleep?" he asked.
Carlos nodded.
"Like a baby."
"You?"
Gamón took a sip of water.
"I spent half the night thinking about Elche's press."
Johan laughed.
"Only you would dream about pressing triggers."
"It's why I'm captain."
"You aren't captain."
"I'm captain in spirit."
Carlos chuckled.
"Spirit doesn't get the armband."
Across the table, Álex quietly buttered a slice of toast while listening.
He had noticed something over the last few weeks.
The older players had stopped treating him like a guest.
They no longer softened tackles in training.
No longer hesitated before passing responsibility his way.
They expected things from him now.
That was a compliment greater than praise.
Johan nudged him lightly.
"You've gone quiet."
"I'm eating."
"Liar."
"I am."
"No."
Johan pointed his fork toward him.
"You're thinking."
Álex didn't deny it.
"I keep replaying yesterday's tactical session."
Gamón looked across the table.
"What part?"
"The space behind their midfield."
A faint smile crossed the captain's face.
"Good."
He returned to his breakfast.
"It means Paco's lecture worked."
After breakfast, the players dispersed for a couple of hours.
Some returned to their rooms.
Others walked through the academy gardens.
Álex climbed the stairs back to the hostel, unlocked his room and sat on the edge of his bed.
He reached for his phone.
Sunday mornings had quietly become routine.
He pressed the familiar contact.
The call connected after two rings.
"Cariño!"
His mother's cheerful voice immediately filled the room.
"Good morning, Mum."
"Already awake?"
"I've been awake for a while."
"You've eaten?"
"Yes."
"Properly?"
Álex smiled.
"Yes."
"Not just fruit?"
"Mum..."
She laughed softly.
"I had to ask."
A deeper voice entered from somewhere behind her.
"Give me the phone."
Carlos Castillo appeared a moment later.
"Morning, campeón."
"Morning, Dad."
"You ready?"
"I think so."
Carlos was quiet for a second before answering.
"Don't think."
His voice carried the calm certainty Álex had heard since childhood.
"Prepare all week."
"Play on Sunday."
"Thinking ends when the whistle blows."
Álex nodded instinctively before remembering his father couldn't see him.
"I know."
"I know you do."
The conversation drifted to ordinary things.
School.
Training.
Whether Valencia's weather had become cooler.
Nothing about contracts.
Nothing about scouts.
Nothing about the growing attention surrounding him.
To Carlos and Abisoye, he was still their son first.
Footballer second.
A small voice suddenly burst into the call.
"Álex!"
He laughed.
"Hola, Estrella."
His little sister sounded as energetic as ever.
"Mama said you're playing today."
"I am."
"Are you going to score three again?"
Carlos could be heard laughing in the background.
Abisoye sighed dramatically.
"See what you've started?"
Álex shook his head with a smile.
"I don't know."
"Why?"
"Because football doesn't work like that."
Estrella seemed to consider the answer carefully.
"Then score one."
"I'll try."
"No."
She giggled.
"You have to."
Everyone laughed.
For a few moments, the distance between Valencia and Seville didn't seem so large.
When the call finally ended, Álex remained seated, staring at the dark screen of his phone.
His room was quiet again.
Outside, he could hear someone bouncing a football against a wall in the courtyard below.
He slipped the phone into his backpack.
Whatever happened over the next few hours...
Home would still be waiting.
By half past one, the academy bus rolled out of the hostel gates.
Nobody sang.
Nobody blasted music through portable speakers.
Headphones rested over ears.
Some players stared through the windows.
Others leaned back with their eyes closed.
The city drifted past quietly before giving way to familiar roads leading toward Ciudad Deportiva de Paterna.
Álex sat beside Javi.
Neither spoke much.
Words weren't necessary.
The closer the bus came to the stadium, the more the mood shifted.
Conversation faded.
Focus replaced it.
Johan broke the silence first.
"Boys."
Several heads turned.
"Five from five?"
Carlos answered before anyone else.
"One match at a time."
Johan groaned dramatically.
"You've been listening to Paco too much."
Carlos smiled.
"That's why he starts me."
Even Johan couldn't argue with that.
Laughter rolled gently through the bus.
The tension eased just enough.
Outside the window, the entrance to Paterna came into view.
The academy gates slowly opened.
Matchday had arrived.