2026-07-05, 10:41 AM - Word count:
Waking up feeling disoriented in a dark room, especially one that is as uncannily familiar as the twentieth hotel room of the year, the first thing that came to mind was to reach out for his phone. Once its screen lit up his face and a bit of the room, he tried to convince himself that this was just to check the time. Nothing to do with the sweat that covered his brow. Oh, right, I’m finally in Hungary were the words he mouthed as he took in the bright numbers. 21:57. A little further down, a wealth of notifications made themselves know that the little device had been trying to get in touch with Joe to make him aware that a lot of people were trying to, well, get in touch with him. More than twenty notifications of that kind, in addition to the ones he was more used to, informing him of discounts, likes on social media posts and whatnot. He felt wide awake, yet somehow absent, and so he decided he might as well get up for a bit before going back to sleep. Sitting himself up, he felt the book he had been reading last night, still folded open with its pages down next to his pillow. He must have fallen asleep in the afternoon, not long after he’d come back from signing the contract at the Rapid Magyar facilities. Deciding he wasn’t going to be able to fall back asleep by staying in bed, Joe turned on the bedside lamp and got up, put on a pair of shorts, slipped his feet into his sneakers, grabbed the keycard from its socket by the door, and headed out.
Reaching the lobby, Joe felt a little weird for a moment. What did the receptionists think? A guest heading out alone at night, and a minor at that. Hell, even the fact that he had spent all day in his room might have people wondering. Joe tried not to pay the thought too much attention as he passed through the lobby and out onto the streets of the unfamiliar city that was now to be his home. A walk around the area might help get a feel for the vibe of this place, and more importantly tire the body out. It was strangely quiet for such a big city. It felt more like Joe’s actual home on the outskirts of Bangkok than Sathorn where he had spent most of his teenage evenings waiting for his dad to decide it was time to go home. At least it looked more like a proper city. Well-lit, well-maintained buildings. The combination of the cityscape and the quiet made it feel almost like a movie set of sorts. After walking for a good while, Joe decided that traffic was so limited that he might even be able to go for a run in these surroundings, and without risk of being like one of those annoying farangs that seemed to think Sathorn Road was their own as they ran down the narrow pavement, occasionally bumping their red, sweaty bodies into the arms and shoulders of inconspicuous people walking to and from work. He first jogged to the end of the pavement, stopping and looking around before crossing the small side road at a brisk walking pace. Then he jogged the entire way to the next side road, again stopping to look around before crossing. Finally, he ran down the next pavement, turning with it as it snaked around an old-looking brick building with no more thoughts of stopping. The light breeze seemed to bring a sense of freedom with it, as Joe ran hundreds of meters undisturbed in this new theme park of his. Only the sound of his stomach upon seeing a familiar yellow M in the distance caused his legs to slow down, and his mind to return to reality. Hungrier than first thought. Joe could hear people in the distance, and going by the sound, they were enjoying themselves. That usually meant food would be available, or so he reasoned as he turned in the direction of the voices and crossed another road.
It didn’t take too long for a restaurant to pop up somewhere on the street, but the voices called to Joe as the sirens had to the Greek guys he’d heard about in some school class or other. After a few more minutes, Joe found his sirens: a pedestrian street with trees and plants running through the middle, and with tables and chairs outside of what he deduced must be eateries. The people sitting under the awnings must have been the source of the voices that had tempted him so. Rather this than McDonalds, at least if the coaches were to find out – those were Joe’s thoughts as he approached the entrance to one of the restaurants, where he was greeted by a waiter who asked him if he wanted a table for one. And that was what he got – a table underneath the awning, and an English menu from which he ordered a goulash, the only Hungarian dish he had ever heard of.
Whilst waiting for his food to arrive, Joe pulled out his phone. First, he checked the map, confirming once again that he had remembered to pin his hotel, before pinning his present location. It was about time to find out what was with all the notifications. Reading from the bottom, he saw a few from his dad Tok, then one from his friend Sem congratulating him on his contract. About half an hour later, he had started receiving messages from enough people that they might make up half a decent sized wave had they each represented a single drop of water. Considering that there was a little under half an hour between Sem’s message and the beginning of the wave, Joe deduced that it must have been his doing. Sem had always been like that. The first time they had properly spoken had been on the bus after school, not long after Tok had started asking Joe to help out with his fruit stall. Joe had been sulking for days, feeling that his dad was punishing him for having attended that one party, as it meant he had to stay in the relatively posh part of Bangkok where his dad sold fruit to a mixture of Thais working in the area and foreigners. It wasn’t as though there was anything much for him to do between the end of school and the time his dad decided to head home, and so he had eventually joined his school’s football team. Only his attitude for the first few months at his new school had meant that his teammates generally didn’t take too well to him joining. Until he met Sem, that is. After school, Joe had gotten on the bus towards Surasak and was sitting on board with his face buried in his phone reading a comic, when he felt someone poking him on the shoulder. Looking up, he was faced with a huge smile. “Aren’t you the new guy on the football team?” The smile moved with the words. Joe was taken aback and mustered nothing but a “yeah?” in the tone of confusion. The smiling boy took it upon him to continue the conversation, acting as though he had long known Joe, except he... well, knew nothing about him, really. “Where are you going?” he’d asked, and Joe responded that he was heading to Sathorn Soi 10. The guy said he was heading in the same direction and provided Joe with the name Sem, saying that he was also part of the football team from time to time. “What do you mean from time to time?” Joe wondered aloud, and Sem explained that he technically wasn’t part of the team, but would step in on various sports teams whenever they needed another participant, whether for practice or even the rare match. “So, technically we’re teammates,” he’d said. “Welcome to the team, new guy. Wait, what’s your name anyway?” he continued. “Thanks, I guess. I’m Joe.” Time seemed to pass a lot faster than usual while they were talking, and soon enough they were at Joe’s stop. Getting off the bus with him was Sem. “Where are you going?” Joe asked him. “Oh, I just gotta drop something off for my mom in a while. Figured I might as well walk the last bit.” Walk? In this heat? If not because they’d been aboard the bus for the past stretch, Joe would have thought the guy was suffering from heatstroke already. They continued together for a while. As the guy was about to finally set Joe free at his turn, he told Joe to come by this one place later in case he was bored.
And he was. After greeting Tok and the people working the other stalls in the immediate vicinity, Joe had practically nothing to do. The adults were just sitting around listening to old Thai music on the radio and sharing food and drinks from each other’s stalls. Not too exciting for a kid in his early teens. So, Joe asked his dad when he needed to be back, and started walking down the road.
After about ten minutes and a few confusing turns, Joe was met with a small football court. Some sort of hard surface, and a thick but partially broken green net covered the space, and excited voices escaped out onto the narrow path. Not knowing anybody, Joe just stood around for a while. Was this where Sem had asked him to go? He quickly learned that it was, as he heard somebody call out his name from inside, and he looked around to find Sem. The next two hours were spent playing football and joking around with Sem and the many different people who came and went. Younger children, kids their age, older teens, and even adults stopped by. Some brought water and sweet drinks to share, others just came to chat, and yet others stayed to play. Unbeknownst to him at the time, this was to become Joe’s primary hangout for the next couple of years.
Responding to all of the congratulatory messages would have taken half the night, so the vast majority of them would have to make do with a simple reaction. Strangely enough, most of them included some variation of “saw your presentation”, “you looked cool”, or “it was nice to see you again”. Joe figured the easiest thing would be to ask Sem what was up with that. He’d already decided to ask him if he was the one who’d told everyone at school anyway.
The goulash arrived. The first touch of the heat upon his tongue sent a small shudder through his body. The people around him, the dim lights, the temperate European summer evening weather, and the flavour of a newly found dish all combined to create a special moment. His first dinner in Budapest. His first night in his new hometown. His first night as a Rapid Magyar-player.
The food had helped. As soon as Joe had returned to his hotel room, the tiredness washed over him and threatened to drown him. He went to brush his teeth, and when he came back to his room, he saw that he’d gotten a text from Sem. “Haven’t you even seen it yourself? What’s with you, Messi” followed by a link to the Rapid Magyar website. Joe hit back with his favourite laughing sticker on Line, taken from some anime or other, and clicked the link. He was greeted by the words “JOE MORMOR JOINS RAPID MAGYAR SC” above a photo of himself that he hardly remembered having taken earlier that day. They sure worked fast at professional football clubs. Joe responded to Sem’s text and got into bed. He opened the link one more time and smiled himself to sleep.
![[Image: hchYGfu.jpeg]](https://i.imgur.com/hchYGfu.jpeg)
Reaching the lobby, Joe felt a little weird for a moment. What did the receptionists think? A guest heading out alone at night, and a minor at that. Hell, even the fact that he had spent all day in his room might have people wondering. Joe tried not to pay the thought too much attention as he passed through the lobby and out onto the streets of the unfamiliar city that was now to be his home. A walk around the area might help get a feel for the vibe of this place, and more importantly tire the body out. It was strangely quiet for such a big city. It felt more like Joe’s actual home on the outskirts of Bangkok than Sathorn where he had spent most of his teenage evenings waiting for his dad to decide it was time to go home. At least it looked more like a proper city. Well-lit, well-maintained buildings. The combination of the cityscape and the quiet made it feel almost like a movie set of sorts. After walking for a good while, Joe decided that traffic was so limited that he might even be able to go for a run in these surroundings, and without risk of being like one of those annoying farangs that seemed to think Sathorn Road was their own as they ran down the narrow pavement, occasionally bumping their red, sweaty bodies into the arms and shoulders of inconspicuous people walking to and from work. He first jogged to the end of the pavement, stopping and looking around before crossing the small side road at a brisk walking pace. Then he jogged the entire way to the next side road, again stopping to look around before crossing. Finally, he ran down the next pavement, turning with it as it snaked around an old-looking brick building with no more thoughts of stopping. The light breeze seemed to bring a sense of freedom with it, as Joe ran hundreds of meters undisturbed in this new theme park of his. Only the sound of his stomach upon seeing a familiar yellow M in the distance caused his legs to slow down, and his mind to return to reality. Hungrier than first thought. Joe could hear people in the distance, and going by the sound, they were enjoying themselves. That usually meant food would be available, or so he reasoned as he turned in the direction of the voices and crossed another road.
It didn’t take too long for a restaurant to pop up somewhere on the street, but the voices called to Joe as the sirens had to the Greek guys he’d heard about in some school class or other. After a few more minutes, Joe found his sirens: a pedestrian street with trees and plants running through the middle, and with tables and chairs outside of what he deduced must be eateries. The people sitting under the awnings must have been the source of the voices that had tempted him so. Rather this than McDonalds, at least if the coaches were to find out – those were Joe’s thoughts as he approached the entrance to one of the restaurants, where he was greeted by a waiter who asked him if he wanted a table for one. And that was what he got – a table underneath the awning, and an English menu from which he ordered a goulash, the only Hungarian dish he had ever heard of.
Whilst waiting for his food to arrive, Joe pulled out his phone. First, he checked the map, confirming once again that he had remembered to pin his hotel, before pinning his present location. It was about time to find out what was with all the notifications. Reading from the bottom, he saw a few from his dad Tok, then one from his friend Sem congratulating him on his contract. About half an hour later, he had started receiving messages from enough people that they might make up half a decent sized wave had they each represented a single drop of water. Considering that there was a little under half an hour between Sem’s message and the beginning of the wave, Joe deduced that it must have been his doing. Sem had always been like that. The first time they had properly spoken had been on the bus after school, not long after Tok had started asking Joe to help out with his fruit stall. Joe had been sulking for days, feeling that his dad was punishing him for having attended that one party, as it meant he had to stay in the relatively posh part of Bangkok where his dad sold fruit to a mixture of Thais working in the area and foreigners. It wasn’t as though there was anything much for him to do between the end of school and the time his dad decided to head home, and so he had eventually joined his school’s football team. Only his attitude for the first few months at his new school had meant that his teammates generally didn’t take too well to him joining. Until he met Sem, that is. After school, Joe had gotten on the bus towards Surasak and was sitting on board with his face buried in his phone reading a comic, when he felt someone poking him on the shoulder. Looking up, he was faced with a huge smile. “Aren’t you the new guy on the football team?” The smile moved with the words. Joe was taken aback and mustered nothing but a “yeah?” in the tone of confusion. The smiling boy took it upon him to continue the conversation, acting as though he had long known Joe, except he... well, knew nothing about him, really. “Where are you going?” he’d asked, and Joe responded that he was heading to Sathorn Soi 10. The guy said he was heading in the same direction and provided Joe with the name Sem, saying that he was also part of the football team from time to time. “What do you mean from time to time?” Joe wondered aloud, and Sem explained that he technically wasn’t part of the team, but would step in on various sports teams whenever they needed another participant, whether for practice or even the rare match. “So, technically we’re teammates,” he’d said. “Welcome to the team, new guy. Wait, what’s your name anyway?” he continued. “Thanks, I guess. I’m Joe.” Time seemed to pass a lot faster than usual while they were talking, and soon enough they were at Joe’s stop. Getting off the bus with him was Sem. “Where are you going?” Joe asked him. “Oh, I just gotta drop something off for my mom in a while. Figured I might as well walk the last bit.” Walk? In this heat? If not because they’d been aboard the bus for the past stretch, Joe would have thought the guy was suffering from heatstroke already. They continued together for a while. As the guy was about to finally set Joe free at his turn, he told Joe to come by this one place later in case he was bored.
And he was. After greeting Tok and the people working the other stalls in the immediate vicinity, Joe had practically nothing to do. The adults were just sitting around listening to old Thai music on the radio and sharing food and drinks from each other’s stalls. Not too exciting for a kid in his early teens. So, Joe asked his dad when he needed to be back, and started walking down the road.
After about ten minutes and a few confusing turns, Joe was met with a small football court. Some sort of hard surface, and a thick but partially broken green net covered the space, and excited voices escaped out onto the narrow path. Not knowing anybody, Joe just stood around for a while. Was this where Sem had asked him to go? He quickly learned that it was, as he heard somebody call out his name from inside, and he looked around to find Sem. The next two hours were spent playing football and joking around with Sem and the many different people who came and went. Younger children, kids their age, older teens, and even adults stopped by. Some brought water and sweet drinks to share, others just came to chat, and yet others stayed to play. Unbeknownst to him at the time, this was to become Joe’s primary hangout for the next couple of years.
Responding to all of the congratulatory messages would have taken half the night, so the vast majority of them would have to make do with a simple reaction. Strangely enough, most of them included some variation of “saw your presentation”, “you looked cool”, or “it was nice to see you again”. Joe figured the easiest thing would be to ask Sem what was up with that. He’d already decided to ask him if he was the one who’d told everyone at school anyway.
The goulash arrived. The first touch of the heat upon his tongue sent a small shudder through his body. The people around him, the dim lights, the temperate European summer evening weather, and the flavour of a newly found dish all combined to create a special moment. His first dinner in Budapest. His first night in his new hometown. His first night as a Rapid Magyar-player.
The food had helped. As soon as Joe had returned to his hotel room, the tiredness washed over him and threatened to drown him. He went to brush his teeth, and when he came back to his room, he saw that he’d gotten a text from Sem. “Haven’t you even seen it yourself? What’s with you, Messi” followed by a link to the Rapid Magyar website. Joe hit back with his favourite laughing sticker on Line, taken from some anime or other, and clicked the link. He was greeted by the words “JOE MORMOR JOINS RAPID MAGYAR SC” above a photo of himself that he hardly remembered having taken earlier that day. They sure worked fast at professional football clubs. Joe responded to Sem’s text and got into bed. He opened the link one more time and smiled himself to sleep.
A huge thanks to @Bloodless for making this beautiful graphic! Absolutely adore it.
