Chapter 15 - Fifteen-Love

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the halls of the Robertson household as Liana ascended the stairs with purpose. Reaching the upper corridor, she called out in a firm voice, "Erick, it's time. The driver is here. You'll miss your flight."

Inside his room, fifteen-year-old Erick hesitated before opening the door, his eyes brimming with tears. Liana's heart softened at the sight of her son's distress.

"Erick, what's the matter? We've talked about this," she said gently, stepping closer. "It's for the best. You're going to a prestigious sports academy in America."

"But.. But I can train here," Erick protested weakly, his voice choked with emotion.

"We've been through this, Erick," Liana replied, her tone firm. "When was the last time you saw a Brit win Wimbledon or any other Grand Slam? The coaching here is a load of old-fashioned bollocks."

Erick's shoulders slumped, his resolve wavering. Liana's gaze softened as she glanced at a photo of Erick and his late father holding a trophy. "If not for me, do it for him. It's what your father wanted."

A tear escaped Erick's eye as he nodded, silently conceding defeat. "Okay," he murmured, picking up his bag.

"Did you say goodbye to your brother properly before he left for school?" Liana asked as they made their way downstairs.

"Yeah," Erick replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Just as they reached the doorway, a droplet of pigeon poop landed on Erick's right hand, eliciting a groan of disgust from him. Liana sighed sympathetically as she handed him a tissue to clean it off.

Meanwhile, in present-day New York, Erick and Samira found themselves in the bustling crowd at the US Open, watching intently as Rebecca Cartwright celebrated her victory. Erick's eyes briefly met hers, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of amusement at her playful gesture.

"Should I be concerned about her?" Samira asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.

Erick chuckled and shook his head. "No, don't mind her. She's just... eccentric," he replied, brushing off any potential worries.

As they headed back to their seats, they crossed paths with Irvine, who was carrying his bag and looking determined. "Hey, Irvine," Erick greeted him with a nod.

Irvine returned the nod, a determined gleam in his eyes. "Hey, guys. Wish me luck," he said, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice.

"Good luck," Samira called out, offering a supportive smile.

As they settled back into their seats, Erick couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation in the air.

The match began with Irvine displaying remarkable skill and determination, his movements fluid and precise. However, his opponent, none other than the legendary Alaric Gustav, proved to be a formidable adversary. Alaric's powerful serves and strategic plays kept Irvine on his toes, and it wasn't long before the score was heavily stacked against him.

Erick watched with bated breath as the match unfolded, his heart pounding in his chest with each point won or lost. Despite Alaric's dominance, Irvine refused to back down, fighting tooth and nail for every point.

As the match reached its climax, the tension in the air was almost palpable, with spectators on the edge of their seats, eagerly watching Irvine face off against the formidable Alaric Gustav.

Erick and Samira sat among the crowd, their eyes fixed on the intense showdown on the court below. Samira clutched Erick's arm, her nails digging into his skin with each twist and turn of the match.

"He's really holding his own," Samira remarked, her voice tinged with surprise.

Erick nodded, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched his friend battle against one of the sport's greatest players.

The commentators' voices echoed throughout the stadium, their words adding to the already electric atmosphere.

Commentator 1: "Well, folks, I think it's safe to say we underestimated Irvine's prowess on the court. He's giving Alaric a run for his money!"

Commentator 2: "Absolutely, and Alaric looks a bit flustered, doesn't he? I don't think he expected Irvine to put up such a fight."

As Irvine unleashed a powerful serve, the crowd held its breath, waiting to see how Alaric would respond.

Commentator 1: "Oh, what a serve from Irvine! Alaric barely had time to react!"

Commentator 2: "But wait, Alaric isn't backing down. He's known for his resilience, after all."

Alaric, known for his confident demeanor, found himself on the defensive as Irvine continued to dominate the court.

Alaric: "Impressive, Irvine. You've certainly improved since the last time we played."

Irvine, determined to maintain his momentum, flashed a grin as he prepared for his next shot.

Irvine chuckled

Meanwhile, Erick and Samira watched from the stands, their eyes glued to the intense match unfolding before them

Back in the commentator's booth, the duo exchanged astonished looks as Irvine continued to outplay Alaric.

Commentator 1: "Well, folks, I think we're witnessing history in the making here. Irvine is on fire!"

Commentator 2: "Absolutely! And Alaric looks like he's in disbelief. He's certainly not used to being on the receiving end of such a beating."

As the match came to a thrilling conclusion, Irvine emerged victorious, much to the shock and delight of the crowd.

Commentator 1: "And there you have it, folks! Irvine has done the unthinkable and defeated Alaric Gustav!"

Commentator 2: "I don't think anyone saw this coming! What an upset!"

With Irvine's win inspiring Erick and Samira, they left the stadium feeling more motivated than ever.