OCTOBER 10TH

"ONE"

PORTLAND, OREGON, USA.

"C'mon, man, you really need to go home this time around." Malik insisted, swinging a bottle of grape wine down his throat directly from the decanter instead of the good etiquette of using a wine glass or any other sort of cup, just not the whole bottle.

Aman shifted in his sit and lie his head on the table in front of him. They just won another game and the whole team are celebrating in a well-known club meant for footballers. Whenever they win a game, they always go down there to have wine, liquor and drinks but he is not in the mood for anything after the phone call he had with his father just few minutes after their match. The man is trying to desperately get underneath his nose and he is succeeding quite well.

He snatched his phone from his locker and saw several missed calls from a few fans that have his personal number and two from his father which means he shouldn't delay and return that phone call immediately.

His father normally calls only once and Aman is always there to pick up the phone before it could ring more than thrice. But, seeing two missed calls means there is something he wants to discuss with him. So, he reluctantly made his way out of the locker room to a bathroom stall and called his father for privacy and quietness.

The man is quiet the convoluted eminent. Zubairu Ajuji picked the call after the third ring.

"Good evening, Sir."

Oh, it shouldn't sound weird to anyone because he grew up calling his father sir like a stranger. After all, he's rebelliously took off to go further his football skills in Germany and didn't bother returning home for more than six years. Because of that, his father was very disappointed that he didn't take over the family business or do anything more productive like becoming an engineer, a doctor or lawyer, like his other siblings.

What the old man refused to understand is that, football is his passion, he loves it from the marrow of his bones, nothing could've stopped him.

He didn't get that though. He wouldn't support him. So, he stole a few dollars and ran away and later on his father started sending him money when he reluctantly apologized and the vendetta softened a little bit.

Alhaji Zubairu Ajuji is the type of man that dictates the life of each and every person living beneath him ranging from his children, wife to employees. He wants everything about their lives to go according to his wishes but Aman rebelled for the first time and did what he's wanted since the age of seven. He tried his best to yank and demolish the love of football from his heart but it kept augmenting and proliferating, he had to do what he wanted or it'd corrosively eat him up.

His father's powerful cool voice brought him back to the matter at hand. "Congratulations."

Aman frowned then his eyes widened catatonically, startled at that compliment and tinge of pride coming from his father. The man had never encouraged his career before and Aman knew he never would. His father had watched him play and acknowledged his good work at winning the two goals. Even though the man had never harangued him, this is the most outstanding thing his father has ever said to him.

He cleared his throat, his emotions raging and stampeding. Having grown up without his parent's affection or acknowledgement, this is a massive leap for him, he doesn't know how to react.

Even when they struggled to get first positions along with his twin brother for their parents' attention, that had never happened to them. But their older sisters were there in every step of the way, appraising them and buying them gifts for their hard work. He smiled, he loves his sisters so much and misses them a lot.