CHAPTER 115: [GO LIVE!] (1)

Ethan slept, but his dreams were a battlefield.

He saw GridironGuru’s smug, laughing face, heard the condescending commentary on a loop. He saw his team, his brilliant, chaotic, beautiful team, reduced to a footnote in someone else’s victory video. He woke up not with a jolt, but with a cold, clear, and utterly serene sense of purpose.

The anger was gone. In its place was a resolve as hard and as sharp as diamond.

Guru had made it public.

He had turned their private wager into a public spectacle. He had tried to write the story of Apex United as a comedy, a tale of a plucky little team that got demolished by a real contender.

Okay, Guru, Ethan thought, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his face as he got out of bed.

You want to tell stories? Fine. Let’s tell a story.

He went downstairs, a new, electric energy humming in his veins.

The day was bright, the house was peaceful, and a glorious, full-blown league matchday awaited him. It was the perfect stage.

He had a quick, happy breakfast with his family, the easy, normal conversation a comforting anchor before the storm he was about to unleash. He looked at his sister, Sarah, who was talking animatedly about a new case she was working on at her non-profit, her face filled with a passion he had rarely seen before. He looked at his parents, at their easy, loving smiles.

This was why he fought.

He retreated to his room, his heart pounding not with nerves, but with a thrilling, audacious sense of purpose. He sat in front of the pod, his mind racing. He could record the match, edit it, add graphics and commentary, and upload a polished, professional video.

The safe option. The ’TactiCool’ option.

Or... he could go live.

Raw. Unfiltered. No safety net. It was a terrifying thought.

What if they lost?

What if they had another meltdown?

The entire FCG world could watch him fail in real-time. But it was also a statement. It was the opposite of Guru’s slick, post-produced arrogance.

His decision was made.

He opened the FCG app on his phone and navigated to the ’Creator Program’ tab. He created a channel, a simple, clean design with the Apex United crest. He called it "The Gaffer’s Office."

He looked at the subscriber count. 1.

He clicked on it. The name of his one and only subscriber was ’EthanCouch’.

He let out a short, sharp laugh. "Right," he said to the empty room. "Gotta start somewhere."

He lay down in the pod, took a deep breath, and logged in. He appeared in his office, the pre-match buzz from The Apex already a familiar, comforting hum. He looked at the corner of his vision. The little camera icon was there. He focused on it, and a new menu appeared.

[Record Match] or [Go Live].

He selected [Go Live].

A small, red icon with the word LIVE appeared in the top-right corner of his vision, along with a translucent chat window on the side, currently empty.

A small counter showed Viewers: 1.

He was officially a streamer. Talking to himself. It was perfect.

He walked out onto the training pitch, where his players were going through their final warm-ups before the match against Lincoln City.

The sun was shining. It was a beautiful day for a rebellion.

"Morning, gaffer!" a voice called out. It was Grant Hanley, who, along with David Kerrigan, was serving the first of his three-match suspensions.

The captain was standing on the sideline, a virtual clipboard in his hand, looking every bit the assistant coach.

"You look different today, boss," Hanley noted, his eyes sharp. "Calmer."

"Just enjoying the view, skip," Ethan said with a grin. "How’s our other naughty boy doing?"

They both looked over at David Kerrigan, who was supposed to be helping the physio with the water bottles but was instead trying to teach a bewildered Ben Gibson how to do a ’rabona’.

"He’s a menace," Hanley grunted, but there was a fond smile on his face. "But he’s our menace. I’ll go have a word."

Ethan walked over to the center of the pitch, where his two star strikers were working on their finishing.

"Morning, you two," he said, watching as Viktor Kristensen coolly slotted a shot into the bottom corner. "Looking sharp."

"Just getting our eye in, gaffer," Viktor said, a new, easy confidence in his voice.

Emre Demir, ever the student of the game, was watching his partner’s technique. "Your body shape is better, Vik," he said, his voice quiet but clear. "You’re opening your hips more. It gives you more angle to aim for."

"You taught me that," Viktor said with a grateful smile.

Ethan just watched them, a feeling of immense pride swelling in his chest. This was his team. This was his story.

He glanced at the viewer count. It had ticked up.

Viewers: 7.

A few curious onlookers, probably from the FCG forums.

A new message popped up in the chat window.

TactiTim_Official: Interesting pre-match routine. A lot of focus on partnerships.

Ethan’s eyes widened. ’Tactics Tim’, the data-obsessed pundit from "The Lower League Lowdown." One of the men who had called his team "The Tilted Toddlers."

He was here. He was watching.

Ethan just smiled.

Good, he thought. The audience is arriving.

He gathered his players for the final team talk, leading them into the dressing room. He was about to launch into his speech when another notification popped into his chat.

The viewer count jumped.

Viewers: 24.

LeoTheHunter: GO ON ETHAN! SHOW ’EM WHAT A REAL MANAGER LOOKS LIKE! (P.S. The blue tracksuit is surprisingly comfortable).

Ethan laughed, a genuine, happy sound that made his players look at him, confused.

"Sorry, lads," he said, shaking his head. "Just an old friend wishing us luck."

He gave his team talk, a calm, focused speech about professionalism and proving the doubters wrong. He walked out into the tunnel, his heart pounding a steady, powerful rhythm.

As they stood waiting to walk out, the viewer count ticked up again.

Viewers: 58.

A new message appeared in the chat.

The username was simple, elegant, and made his heart do a little flip-flop.

Maya: Break a leg, cheese guy. My Maestro is taking notes.

He was still smiling when another message appeared.

The username was different.

It was a name he had come to both dread and anticipate.

The viewer count exploded!!

Viewers: 5,482.

The chat window, which had been a quiet, friendly space, was suddenly flooded with a tidal wave of emojis and frantic, all-caps messages.

But Ethan only saw one. The one that had just appeared at the top of the feed. The one that was a public, undeniable declaration of war.

GridironGuru: Look at this, my little minnow is trying to swim with the sharks. This should be fun to watch. Don’t disappoint me.