Let’s Go! (Bonus: S/O tyler_saylor)

The quiet inside Madison's apartment felt thicker now.

Kai sat on the couch, watching her closely as she pulled her knees up, hoodie sleeves swallowing her hands. She hadn't looked him in the eye for a full minute, and he didn't push. He waited.

Finally, she whispered, "Ohh and there's something I didn't tell you yet."

Kai's expression shifted. "What is it?"

She inhaled. "I reported Jake. After… that night. Told the producers. The director. Everyone on set." She gave a broken laugh. "They said they'd 'handle it internally.' Then nothing. They kept shooting like it never happened. Like I never said anything."

Kai's hands curled into fists. "What the hell…"

She shook her head. "They're protecting their golden boy. His name is on the poster. Mine's just… a breakout rookie."

"Madison…" he breathed, voice low with rage and heartbreak.

Her eyes welled with fresh tears. "I felt so small, Kai. Like I didn't matter. Like what happened wasn't real unless it ruined someone else's career."

Kai moved closer, gripping her hand. "You do matter. Don't let them gaslight you into silence. You did the right thing."

She nodded slowly. "That's why I've been thinking… maybe I step away from acting. Just for a bit."

His eyes widened. "You sure?"

"I think so, I've already told mom. kai, I love performing, but not like this. Not with that kind of poison behind the scenes." She wiped her eyes and gave a small, tired smile. "There's this new daytime talk show being developed by Nickelodean. Kind of like The Real but for kids. My agent said they're looking for someone young, fresh… with edge. I might audition."

Kai beamed. "You'd be perfect for that."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. You've got charisma, heart, and a voice that people need to hear. TV hosting suits you. You'll kill it."

Madison leaned into him. "Thank you, Kai."

They stayed there in silence for a while. She closed her eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his breath. He was her anchor—strong, grounded, real. He made the chaos make sense.

Eventually, Kai stood and kissed her forehead. "I'd stay longer… but the national team dorms don't let players sleep off-campus."

She walked him to the door, reluctant. "I'll be watching your match."

He smiled. "Promise?"

"Swear on it. My mom already got us tickets."

Kai winked. "Then I'll make sure to give you a show."

Next Day

The buzz was electric. USMNT vs Brazil—a marquee friendly that drew over 60,000 fans into the sun-baked stadium. The stands were flooded with red, white, and blue, but the yellow wave of Brazilian supporters shimmered like gold.

Inside the US locker room, Kai tied his boots in silence, earbuds in, lost in his thoughts. He wasn't starting. Not yet.

Coach Pochettino had made it clear—he was still deciding how best to deploy Kai. Too dynamic to bench forever, too flexible to pigeonhole.

Reyna was starting in the No. 10.

Pulisic on the left wing.

McKennie and Adams holding midfield.

Kai? On the bench. Hungry.

He stood when it was time, walking with his teammates through the tunnel, boots clicking against concrete.

The Brazilian team stood nearby. Rodrygo, Vini Jr., Bruno Guimarães, and Alisson Becker at the front of the line.

Kai made eye contact with Alisson and smiled. "Hi sir, I'm a big fan of yours. You're one of the reasons I started watching Liverpool. Been a fan since I was a kid."

Alisson grinned. "You've got the talent, lad. Keep pushing. One day maybe, Anfield will sing your name."

Rodrygo who joined Liverpool in the summer turned, overhearing. "Come soon," he said, patting Kai's shoulder. "We need those magic feet of yours you demon. You and me—Liverpool's next duo."

Kai chuckled. "I'll try not to keep you waiting."

The national anthems echoed. Flags waved. Camera flashes popped.

From the stands, Madison sat with her mother, clutching a bottle of water and her phone. She spotted Kai among the subs, heart thumping.

Kickoff.

Brazil pressed early, showing their flair and swagger. Vinicius danced on the wing, Rodrygo probed the half-spaces, and Guimarães anchored the midfield like a general.

But the U.S. were no pushovers. Reyna was slick, threading passes to Pulisic who jinked past defenders with purpose. McKennie flew into tackles with grit.

From the bench, Kai watched every movement—mentally mapping out his space.

"Stay ready," Pochettino muttered beside him.

Kai nodded. His time would come.