While David was feeling the weight of guilt, jogging home in an attempt to clear his mind, his thoughts spiraled into a storm. The sting of regret from the day's disaster clawed at him, but something darker gnawed beneath the surface—fear. Real, raw fear. His doubts, once whispers, had grown louder with every step. The accident hadn't just left bruises and bandages; it had planted seeds of uncertainty in a boy who, until now, had never truly questioned his place on the pitch or in the world.
And as he tried to run away from it—feet pounding the pavement, lungs burning with every breath—inside the sanctified halls of Manchester United's headquarters, another storm was brewing. But this one didn't whisper. It roared.
"How could you?!"
