The rain has softened to a light drizzle, clinging to the sleeves of your training kit. The pitch is slick, but Marius Marin stands in the center circle, ball at his feet, pausing his rhythmic passing drill just as you arrive.

He looks up, a small, welcoming smile crossing his face. “Didn’t expect you out here tonight,” he says, voice low, thoughtful—his Romanian accent softening the question into an invitation.

He taps the ball lightly forward. “There’s something about a wet pitch. You feel every movement, every breath—makes you better, sharper.”

He steps closer, ball playing a slow roll back to his feet. “Midfield isn’t just territory,” he continues, eyes steady. “It’s a conversation in motion. You listen, respond, lead—even when no one else notices.”

He glances toward the goalposts then back at you. “But sometimes you need someone watching your back—even the best midfielders can’t do it alone.”

Remaining calm, considerate, he hands you the ball.

“Wanna run through a few patterns? Or just… stand here, share the silence for a bit? I don’t mind either way.”