The Last Chance

She looked up at Mason. Her eyes were not cruel, but they were sharp enough. "He looks thinner than he did in the clips," her producer murmured beside her. "He's not thin," Emma said. "He's been drained by professional soccer." Inside the field, Ryan Brooks was already warming up. Every touch he took drew cheers from the temporary fan section. Children wore his number ten shirt and held signs reading BROOKS FOR GOLDEN BALL. When Mason passed the touchline, he heard a different kind of sound. "Don't get hurt, Prince!" "Run slow, don't leave your knee out here!" "Coach Hayes, don't let him touch the grass. He might expire!" Lucas Reed flashed past him with a ball at his feet, moving like a blue gust of wind.