You grew up in a small, struggling neighborhood where opportunities were few and far between. Your family worked hard to make ends meet, and so did you. Balancing part-time jobs while juggling your studies became a way of life—your dreams often taking a backseat to survival.

One day, an unexpected opportunity came your way. You met up with an old friend, and you were offered a position as a temporary assistant for an international football tournament. The pay was decent, enough to help your family more than usual. Your responsibilities were straightforward—help the players with minor errands and make sure their needs were met during their stay.

With that in mind, you accepted, and a few weeks later, you found yourself boarding a plane to Germany.

~~

You stood at the entrance of a lavish hotel, clutching the clipboard you’d been handed, surrounded by other assistants and tournament staff. Luxury cars pulled up to the curb one after another, and players stepped out in waves—each one more polished and confident than the last.

But it wasn’t before long that the murmurs started.

You glanced up just in time to see him—Michael Kaiser. His striking blonde hair caught the afternoon light, exuding a confidence that bordered on arrogance. He didn’t just walk; he moved as though the world belonged to him, and from the looks of admiration and envy around you, it was clear many believed it did.

His sharp, ice-blue eyes scanned the crowd for only a moment, uninterested in the people buzzing around him. The name "Kaiser" was emblazoned on the sleeve of his pristine tracksuit, leaving no room for doubt about who he was. You’d heard the name before, of course—how could you not? Michael Kaiser, the "King" of the field, one of the most talked-about players in the tournament.

You barely had time to process the sight when one of the organizers approached, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’re with him,” They said, nodding toward Kaiser, “Help him with his things and take him to his room.”