The Call From Malmö

Two days had passed since the trials ended, and for Sebastian, every minute of it had felt like a week.

He tried as much as possible to keep himself busy, to get his mind off it. He had continued with his runs and workouts, and he kept practicing his ball control and dribbling in the backyard for most of the day. It wasn't anything too intense, but it helped keep his focus from drifting back to the one thing he was trying not to obsess over.

But no matter how much he trained, it was hard to stop thinking about it.

There had been no call. Not yet.

He tried to act like he wasn't constantly checking the house phone or listening for it to ring. He made small talk with his family, helped his mum with chores, and tried not to look anxious. But anyone who knew him well could see it. He was stressed.

That afternoon, he was in the backyard again, working on his ball control. He wanted to see how many times he could juggle the ball with both feet without actually looking at it.

"76, 77, 78..." He was still going with his eyes closed before he heard his mum's voice call out from the kitchen window.

"Sebastian, come here please."

"I'm coming mum."

He opened his yes and caught the ball with his hands, before setting it down and walking into the house. As he stepped into the kitchen, he found his mum holding her phone, a warm smile on her face.

"I just got off the phone with an official from Malmö," she said, her eyes glinting.

"You got selected."

Sebastian blinked once, then twice. His whole body tensed for a moment and then he shouted, "Yeahh! Come on!!" and bent over, pumping his fists toward the ground in rapid bursts.

Then he paused mid-celebration, remembered he wasn't alone, and quickly looked up at his mum.

She was still smiling.

Sebastian straightened up, cheeks slightly reddening. He cleared his throat and said, "I mean... that's great."

But deep in his mind, he was slightly embarrassed. I can't believe I just did that.

He coughed once more, trying to regain composure, acting as if he didn't just celebrate like he had won the lottery.

But in this case, this was sort of like the lottery to him.

It was the first significant step he had taken towards achieving his dreams.

His mum chuckled and waved him over. As he stepped closer, she wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back tightly.

"I knew you'd get selected," she said softly.

After the hug, she held him at arm's length, her hands on his shoulders.

"I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you Mum," Sebastian said, his voice sincere.

He pulled back slightly. "What else did they say?"

"They asked when we could come over and complete the procedures," she replied. "I told them Saturday, so your dad can come with us. They said that's perfect. So we'll be going then to get everything done."

Before he could say anything else, they heard footsteps approaching. Sara, his little sister, came in from the living room, her eyes squinting with curiosity.

"What happened?" she asked.

Their mum looked at her and smiled. "Sebastian got selected."

Sara tilted her head, her expression calm. "Oh."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "That's it? Just oh?"

Sara shrugged, a small grin forming. "Because big brother is the best. I knew you'd get picked."

Sebastian softened, smiling gently. He walked over to her.

"But I'm not the best though."

"Yes you are."

He chuckled. "No I'm not."

"Yes you are," she said louder this time. "You scored more goals than everyone that day."

"That doesn't mean I'm the best," Sebastian said with a little laugh. He crouched down to meet her eyes. "But I can be."

He smiled more quietly now, but there was a gleam of determination behind it.

"That's my goal."

"To be the best."

Then he placed his right hand on her head and ruffled her hair.

"And with the support of my number one fan, I think I have a real shot."

Sara yelped and pulled back. "My hair."

She reached up to swat his hand, but he dodged, grinning. She tried to tag him again, but he stood up quickly and backed away.

"You can't touch me," he teased.

"Sebastian," she shouted, chasing after him around the living room.

Their mum stood by the kitchen counter, smiling as she watched them run in circles.

Later that evening, when their dad got home from work, they told him the news. His face lit up with pride, and he pulled Sebastian into a strong, joyful hug, clapping him on the back with both hands. To celebrate, Sebastian's mum made his favorite meal, köttbullar med potatismos, which was basically traditional Swedish meatballs served with creamy mashed potatoes and lingonberry sauce.

They sat together at the table that night, smiling, laughing, and savoring every bite. For the first time in days, Sebastian felt completely at ease.

The rest of the week flew by. Before he knew it, Saturday had arrived.

That morning, Sebastian, his parents, and Sara got into his dad's car and began the drive from their home to Malmö FF's academy. The academy was located in the city of Malmö, in the district of Hyllie, a little over two hours from where they lived.

As they approached the academy grounds, Sebastian gazed out the window. The buildings were modern and sleek, accented with blue trim and tall glass windows. Mounted above the entrance was the Malmö FF crest, a sky blue and white shield with a vertical white tower running down the center, topped by a battlemented crown.

At the top of the shield were the bold blue letters M F F, each separated by a centered dot. Beneath the shield, the words Malmö FF curved upward in matching blue, with a small six-pointed star resting below the text.

They pulled into the small parking area near the front entrance and got out. Sebastian looked up at the main building, clean, professional, and intimidating in the best kind of way. This was the real thing.

Inside, the front reception desk was tidy and manned by a woman with blond hair in a ponytail and a welcoming expression. Sebastian's dad stepped forward first.

"Good morning. I was told we should come here for some procedures. My son, Sebastian Falk, got selected during the trials."

The woman looked up from her computer and gave a small smile.

"So you must be Sebastian Falk," she said, turning her eyes toward him.

He nodded.

"You are right on time. Please head down the hallway, take the staircase two floors up, and turn right. You will see a door with the nameplate Coach Henrik Lindström. That is who you will be meeting with."

"Thank you," Sebastian's mum said as they began moving toward the hallway.

They walked quietly through the bright corridor, their footsteps echoing softly as they reached the staircase. Sebastian led the way up, followed by Sara, then his parents. On the second floor, they turned right and spotted the door almost immediately.

There it was. A simple office door with a nameplate on it:

Coach Henrik Lindstrom

Head of Youth Recruitment

Sebastian paused for a second, taking in the moment. His dad stepped forward and knocked gently.

A firm voice answered from inside.

"Come in."

Sebastian's dad opened the door, and the family stepped into a well-lit office with framed jerseys and academy photos on the wall. Behind the desk sat a man in his forties, with sharp blue eyes, short light brown hair, and a calm, professional demeanor.

He looked up from his monitor and stood.

"Good day, Mr. and Mrs. Falk," he said with a steady voice and a nod.

"And Sebastian. I have been expecting you."

Sebastian met his gaze and stepped forward.