The last thing in the room was a jacket hanging on the back of the door.

Leo took it, folded it over his arm, and then stood there for a moment as his eyes wandered at the now-empty Wigan unit.

A year, that was how long he’d been at the apartment, and yet, it still didn’t feel that long.

He remembered walking in here for the first time with Dawson just ahead of him, like it was yesterday.

Back when things had just started looking up in his football career, and to Leo at that time, it was one of the small things that made him feel worth something.

He tapped the wall once with two knuckles, a moment later, before turning and walking out of the room.

As he did so, one of the movers stood waiting in the corridor with a clipboard in hand.

"Is that everything?"

Leo looked back through the open door once and then nodded.

"That’s everything," he said.

His things hadn’t filled the truck, but they filled enough of it to make the truck necessary.

"Let’s get going then," the mover said before turning and walking away.

After getting out of the accommodation complex, Leo made his way to the main building, specifically the player liaison under Malachi, who had given the key to him at first.

"Thank you," Leo said after meeting the main, only to receive a suspicious look instead.

"Are you leaving the club or something," the man said, "or did you trash the room badly?"

Leo shook his head at the bad attempt at a joke before walking outside and joining the movers in their truck as they pulled out of the complex and onto the road a while later.

Twelve miles wasn’t far, and that was exactly how Leo wanted it to be.

The apartment sat halfway to Manchester and halfway to Wigan, meaning it was about 20 minutes give or take to each side from where his apartment sat.

During the whole commute, Leo had his elbow resting on the window ledge and wasn’t saying much, which the movers seemed to understand since it wasn’t a conversational ride.

Still, that didn’t stop them from asking a few questions since it wasn’t every day that one got to meet and travel with a Premier League star.

By early afternoon, the apartment had started to look like somewhere a person lived.

The movers worked efficiently and without much direction.

Leo just existed as they worked, only pointing at where things should go, adjusting when something wasn’t right.

When the last of them had gone, Leo stood in the living room and looked around at it all and saw that it was the best he could do for now.

His new home had two bedrooms, a main one and then a smaller one with high ceilings in the living room, as well as bathrooms in each of the bedrooms and then an extra one near a room that Leo had deemed he was going to use for storage.

After a while, he picked up his phone and called Noah, who answered before the second ring.

"I just got things done," Leo said.

"Congratulations," Noah said.

"How does it feel?"

"Big," Leo said, and then after a second, "feels kind of better than the price we paid for."

Noah laughed at that.

"Well, the owner was glad after I let him know who you were! He was understanding during the negotiations since he probably thinks that you staying there will sort of market the other properties for him. It’s all about getting the bag."

"Speaking of which, Wigan reached out this morning. It’s been close to two weeks, and apparently, there’s something you never actually confirmed."

Leo moved toward the window.

"Which is?"

"How do you want to be paid. They’re asking whether you want it bi-weekly or monthly. Two payments across the month or one at the end of it."

Leo thought about it for a moment and then said, "What do you think?"

"Honestly?" Noah said, "For most players, I’d say bi-weekly because most players are terrible with money and having a large sum land at once is a disaster waiting to happen.

But from the time I’ve spent with you, you’re not like most players. You don’t spend stupidly, at least, none that I know of. Monthly means one larger amount that’s easier to track, easier to plan around. It just makes more sense for someone like you."

Leo considered Noah’s statements for a whole 3 seconds before agreeing.

"Monthly then."

"I’ll let them know," Noah said. "Anything else?"

"No," Leo said. "That’s it."

"Settle in then," Noah said. "Just be careful with whatever housewarming party you have planned."

Leo smiled slightly and ended the call.

He stood by the window for a moment longer, and then he pushed off and walked down the hallway toward the main bedroom.

The bed hadn’t been made yet, just the mattress sitting on the frame with the duvet bundled at one end, and Leo didn’t fix any of it.

He just dropped onto it face up, one arm across his chest with the other falling to the side, and stared at the ceiling of his new apartment for about forty seconds.

Then his eyes closed, and that was the last thing he knew for a while.

-----

A couple of days later, the sounds of panting and heavy breathing were the most prevalent across the pitch where the Wigan players were training.

Leo bent over, hands just above his knees, and stared at the grass beneath him.

There was a blade that had folded under his boot at some point, which he focused on it for no reason other than his mind being too blank to think.

After a while, he straightened up slowly and looked out across the pitch.

They were everywhere.

Broadhead was flat on his back with one arm over his eyes.

Fletcher had his hands on his hips and was staring at the sky, as if it owed him something and Matheus Reyes, who had spent a considerable portion of the morning making everything look effortless, was now sitting cross-legged on the turf in silence, which was notable since the man just couldn’t keep quiet from the short time that Leo had known him.

Dawson had come in that morning with the particular energy of a man who had looked at his squad over the open session and made some private calculations that he hadn’t liked.

And from the first whistle, there had been no easing into anything.

Runs, shape work, pressing triggers, and then runs again.

The training was brutal.

If you did something other than what Dawson had asked of you, you’d take a couple laps around the pitch and then come back to catch up to your mates.

Jake had found out the hard way, and at the moment, looked like he could die any second.

Leo, on the other hand, was glad for all those stamina and breath control sessions with Thompson because it was the only thing keeping him from falling face-first into the grass.

He stabilised his breathing on the walk to the sideline, counted it down the way Thompson had shown him, and by the time he reached the cooler, he was close to even.

He picked up a bottle, and Dawson, standing beside the cooler with Nolan, glanced at him.

"Good job," he said, already moving past him before clapping once to draw the squad’s attention.

The players responded in various states.

Some got to their feet.

Others stayed where they were and simply turned their heads.

"Right," he said. "Look around you."

"Eleven players start a game. That’s it. And those of you who’ve worked with me before already know I don’t go to the bench unless I have to. That’s not going to change because we’re in the Premier League now. If anything," he said, pausing briefly, "it matters more."

"What that means for you is simple. There are no guaranteed shirts in this squad. None. I don’t care what you did last season, I don’t care what you did in the Championship or wherever you came from before this.

If you want to play, I need you to stay sharp in every session and on every day because that is the only way you can prove you’re ready to me. The moment you give me a reason to look at the next man, I will look at the next man."

He looked along the group once, not settling on anyone in particular.

"And I’ll tell you something else. Some of the leniency we had last season, certain things we could afford when the margin for error was different, that’s gone. This league will find whatever you haven’t fixed. It will find it quickly, and it will find it in front of a lot of people."

"And one of the things I hate the most is not being able to do anything when I am facing a situation. Whatever is wrong in the squad, we have to find it and fix it before the start of the season."

"That’s all for today," Dawson said, his voice dropping back to something more even.

"The facilities are open if anyone wants to put more in. Use them. But know your limits and don’t be stupid about it. I need you healthy, not broken."

After that, he turned and walked towards Nolan, who fell into step beside him.

"How was it?" Dawson asked as the stern expression he’d put on for his speech came apart, making Nolan shake his head.

"You were superb," he said a moment later with his thumbs up as the duo continued walking away, while behind them, the squad began to come apart slowly in ones and twos as the players gathered themselves without talking too much.