CHAPTER 45 : New Year New Me

Date: 2 January 2013

The new year arrived with a chill in the Manchester air, but inside Carrington, the atmosphere was one of focus and momentum. United were top of the league, unbeaten in months, and the dressing room buzzed with quiet confidence. But for Alex Marshall, the week between league matches felt different — like a breather from the storm.

Not that he was idle.

Wednesday Morning – Carrington Private Lounge

Alex sat at a polished glass table across from Sofia Alvarez, flipping through flashcards in neat stacks. The soft afternoon light spilled through the frosted windows, and the hum of distant boots on turf echoed faintly in the background.

Sofia tapped a card and gave a teasing smile."¿Cómo te llamas?"(What's your name?)

Alex straightened up with mock seriousness."Me llamo Alex. Soy futbolista… y también estoy aprendiendo español para cuando fiche por el Madrid."(My name is Alex. I'm a footballer… and I'm learning Spanish for when I sign for Madrid.)

He grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Sofia burst into a laugh. "Let's focus on Villarreal first, superstar."

Alex winked. "Small steps."

She rolled her eyes with a smirk. "At least your pronunciation's improving. Now try this one — '¿Cuántos años tienes?'"(How old are you?)

Alex furrowed his brow, then answered, "Tengo diecisiete años… pero juego como si tuviera veintisiete."(I'm seventeen years old… but I play like I'm twenty-seven.)

Sofia laughed again. "Cocky and fluent — dangerous combination."

Alex held up a hand. "That's what they say about most wingers."

Later That Day – Upstairs Office Room

David Chan, dressed immaculately as always, stood next to a whiteboard displaying a clean set of projections. Graphs, pie charts, and a color-coded investment dashboard filled the screen. Beside him, a MacBook displayed Alex's current portfolio.

Alex sat with a pen in his mouth, half-leaning over the desk. Jamie was next to him, sipping black coffee, clearly more relaxed than his brother.

David pointed to the board.

"As of now, Tesla is up 12% from when we bought in. Apple's a slow burner, but solid — think of it like anchoring your portfolio. Bitcoin, as expected, is volatile, but you're still in green."

Alex nodded. "As long as it's growing, I'm not stressing. I'm not planning to touch it for years anyway."

David smiled. "Good. That's the difference between a footballer who stays rich and one who ends up doing TV for rent."

Jamie smirked. "Oi, some of that TV work pays better than coaching, I bet."

David chuckled. "True. But not everyone ends up in the studio with Lineker. Now, I'd recommend we start looking at a few new areas for diversification."

He clicked a remote, switching to a new slide: '2023 Watchlist'

Nvidia – "AI boom. Long-term winner."

LVMH – "Luxury never dies. Plus, it's strong in Europe."

Vanguard Index Funds – "Safe, reliable, and tax-efficient."

Disney – "Bit under right now, but if streaming rebounds, it's poised."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Disney? As in Mickey Mouse?"

David nodded. "As in Marvel, Star Wars, ESPN… They own everything your generation grew up with."

Jamie whispered. "So if Disney collapses, childhoods collapse too."

Alex grinned. "Alright, stick Mickey in the basket."

David moved on. "Now, taxes — you'll need to put aside around £400k this financial year based on current income and bonus projections. But we're setting up a Limited Company for your image rights. That'll bring down your taxable salary income, and let you write off some business expenses — media training, PR staff, even some travel."

Alex blinked. "Wait, I can write off the training I do with Mendes' media guy?"

David nodded. "Yes. That's professional development. The key is discipline — track your expenses, file on time, and keep everything above board. We'll also move part of your bonuses into a junior trust. Helps reduce inheritance tax and protects assets in case of legal disputes."

Jamie blinked. "You're seventeen. What are you leaving behind, match balls and Adidas boots?"

Alex smirked. "And a stadium full of broken ankles."

David laughed, then grew a bit more serious. "The money is growing, Alex. But the challenge isn't making it. It's keeping it. Lifestyle inflation is real. Flashy purchases add up — and you're a target now."

Alex nodded. "I get it. I want to be smart. I'm playing the long game."

Jamie raised his coffee. "To the long game — and fewer boots."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "You mock now, but wait till you're coaching a lad wearing my signature series."

David chuckled as he closed the laptop. "Alright, superstar. Let's make sure the money lasts longer than the hype."

System Update Detected...

Category: Off-Field Development → Financial Acumen

Action Recognized:

Initiated professional investment strategy

Established long-term savings and tax efficiency measures

Consulted with financial advisor independently

Demonstrated forward planning uncommon for age group

New Trait Unlocked!

"Smart Money Mind" (Passive)

+5% Weekly Bonus XP (off-field activities)

Sponsorship offer negotiation power increased

Reduced risk of financial penalties or legal disputes

Future Business ventures unlock faster

Reputation Perk Gained: "Mature Beyond His Years"

Media and pundits begin praising Alex not just as a player, but as a role model.

Managers and club executives trust Alex more in leadership roles.

Teammates respect his decisions off the pitch — increases squad harmony.

Alex's Thoughts "I'm still young, but I've seen enough to know football doesn't last forever. This isn't just about now. It's about making sure Mum and Dad never worry again. About building something that lasts — even when the boots come off."

Thursday Afternoon – PR Coaching Session

Claire — sharp blazer, sharper eyes — clicked her pen as Alex slouched into the chair, legs half-draped over the armrest.

"Right, Alex," she said briskly. "Quickfire drill. What do you say if a reporter asks about your goal drought?"

Alex smirked. "I tell them Rooney's been hogging all the service."

Claire deadpanned. "Try again, without making headlines for the wrong reasons."

He sat up properly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, alright… I'd say: 'Goals come and go, but my job is to help the team however I can.'"

Claire gave a small nod. "Better. Confident but humble. You're getting it."

Alex leaned forward, elbows on knees. "What if they ask about the Man City match? The foul, the assist — the drama?"

Claire didn't hesitate. "You say: 'The derby is always emotional. I just focused on doing my job and helping the team.' Never make it about yourself. No headlines like 'Marshall wins it solo' — even if you did."

Alex raised a brow. "So if I score a hat trick in a final… I just shrug and thank the team?"

Claire smiled. "Exactly. And maybe mention how grateful you are to the fans. Never forget the fans."

He grinned. "Right. Fans, team, humility. No flirting with interviewers either, I assume?"

Claire gave him a dry look. "Please don't. Unless it's for charity."

Alex laughed. "Got it."

Claire sat back, clicking her pen again. "You're sharp, Alex. Just stay aware. One slip of the tongue, and headlines write themselves. But say the right words? You control the story."

He nodded. "Alright. Let's write a good one."

Evening – Home

Back at the Marshall house, dinner was quiet, warm — the kind of stillness that grounded Alex. The kitchen smelled of roast chicken and rosemary potatoes, the clink of forks and soft murmurs filling the air. It was the calm after the storm of a long day.

Mum passed him another helping. "So, how are the classes going? Spanish and... what else now?"

"Media training, finance, everything," Alex said with a tired grin. "I've got a schedule tighter than our midfield."

Dad chuckled. "Good. Stay busy. Better to learn now than fix mistakes later."

Jamie sat hunched over his plate, a printed training session plan folded beside his fork. He chewed absently while scribbling something down.

"Got my FA Level 1 test next week," he said suddenly, eyes locked on his notes. "If I pass, I get to run a full youth session at the community centre."

Alex looked up. "That's brilliant. Just don't make the poor kids run laps for fun."

Jamie flicked a pea at him with expert precision. "You'll be the first one I bench when I'm managing England."

Alex smirked. "I'll retire before you can drop me."

Mum raised a brow. "No food fights at my table, boys."

Dad smiled proudly at Jamie. "I'm glad you're taking it seriously. Coaching's not about shouting orders — it's about understanding people."

Jamie nodded slowly. "Yeah. I used to think I'd only be useful if I was on the pitch. Turns out, you can lead just fine from the sidelines."

There was a small silence as that thought settled.

Alex nudged him with a grin. "You ever need someone to run cone drills, I'm available. £5 a session."

"Make it £4 and I'll let you keep your boots," Jamie shot back.

The room burst into laughter, warmth crackling like the candles on the table. In this little house tucked into Manchester's sprawl, the two Marshall brothers were growing — not in the same way, but always side by side.

Friday – Pre-FA Cup Training

Carrington buzzed with energy. Winter mist clung to the low hedges around the training pitches, and every bootstep echoed like a drumbeat against the frozen ground. Inside the dressing room, the lads were lively — jokes flying, banter loud, but underneath it all was the tension of the cup.

The FA Cup.

Sir Alex entered with the usual slow authority, hands clasped behind his back. The room quieted, every player instinctively straightening. He let the silence linger, then spoke.

"This is the Cup. History. Magic. A different kind of football."

He began to pace, eyes sharp.

"Some of the greatest moments this club has known came from this competition. Cantona's volley. Giggsy's run. Scholesy's thunderbolts. It's not just a trophy — it's a rite of passage."

He paused and looked directly at Alex.

"And for some of you… it's your first taste. Make it count."

Alex felt his chest tighten. Not from nerves — from adrenaline. He could feel the gravity of it. The stadium lights, the away crowd, the pressure. His name in the squad. His debut in the oldest competition in world football. And it wasn't just any game. It was West Ham. At Upton Park. Hostile, historic, noisy.

As the team broke into units for training, Rio came over, slinging an arm around Alex.

"FA Cup, eh? It's a scrap. They'll come flying in. Don't be surprised if someone tries to leave a boot in early."

Alex smirked. "That's alright. I'm quicker."

Rooney passed by and grinned. "Just remember, if you score, don't do that heart-hands celebration. Leave the cringey stuff to Nani."

Alex laughed. "Noted."

Behind the banter, though, there was a sense of focus. The drills were snappy, touches sharper, voices louder. Everyone wanted a place in the squad. Everyone wanted the Cup.

After training, as the sky turned grey and soft rain began to fall, Alex lingered by the wall of club photos in the corridor — images of FA Cup triumphs over the decades. One caught his eye. Cantona lifting the trophy, jaw set, eyes fierce. Another showed Scholes, arms outstretched in celebration after scoring at Villa Park.

Alex stood a little taller.

He wasn't just stepping into a match.

He was stepping into history.

That Night

He lay in bed, boots polished, kit packed. The System flickered softly in the corner of his vision.

Upcoming Match: FA Cup 3rd Round vs West Ham – 5 Jan

Potential Bonus Objectives: Contribute to a goal, Complete 90% pass rate, Gain Mentorship Progress

Alex stared at the ceiling, heartbeat steady. There was something special about the Cup. A stage for heroes and surprises. And he was ready to write his chapter.

—End of Chapter 45—