The first light of the morning slipped through the curtains, spreading slowly across the room before reaching the edge of Gabriel's bed.
Gabriel opened his eyes but did not move.
For a few seconds, he simply stared at the ceiling.
His body still felt tired from the previous night.
His legs were heavy. There was a dull soreness in his thighs and calves, and his shoulders also felt stiff.
Every time he moved slightly, his body reminded him of the match—the sprints, the tackles, the quick changes of direction, and the moments when he had pushed himself to keep going.
He turned his head toward the bedside table.
His phone was lying there.
He reached for it slowly.
6:05 a.m.
The screen was already full of notifications.
Messages.
Missed calls.
Instagram notifications.
Mentions.
New followers.
Gabriel stared at the screen for a moment.
He had expected people to congratulate him after the match, but seeing so many notifications first thing in the morning still surprised him.
He let out a quiet breath and placed the phone on his chest.
Yesterday had changed a lot.
It had been his debut for Palmeiras, and he had scored the winning goal.
The memory was still fresh in his mind.
The noise from the supporters.
His teammates running toward him.
The feeling of being surrounded by people after the ball had gone into the net.
The cameras following him.
The chants from the stands.
Abel Ferreira's words after the final whistle.
Everything had happened so quickly that Gabriel had barely had time to understand it.
But now the stadium was far away.
There were no thousands of supporters.
No cameras.
No teammates shouting his name.
No referee.
No football.
Just his quiet room, the morning light, and the sound of the city slowly waking up outside.
Gabriel closed his eyes again.
Fortunately, there was no morning training.
The coaching staff had given the players time to recover before the evening session.
He was grateful for that.
His body needed it.
He pulled the blanket slightly higher and rested his head against the pillow.
For once, there was nowhere he needed to rush to.
He did not have to wake up, eat quickly, get dressed, and hurry to the training ground.
He could stay in bed.
He could rest.
He could breathe.
His phone vibrated against his chest.
Gabriel opened one eye.
Another notification.
He smiled faintly.
"Already?" he whispered.
He picked up the phone and unlocked it.
The number of notifications seemed endless.
He decided to open Instagram first.
Instagram was the account he used the most, and most of the notifications were coming from there.
He opened the notifications page.
There were comments from Palmeiras supporters.
Some people had posted pictures and short videos from the match.
Others had shared photographs of his celebration.
There were also messages from people he knew.
Gabriel smiled as he read some of them.
One message was from an old friend.
Another was from someone he had played with before joining Palmeiras.
There were also messages from people he had not spoken to in a long time.
He replied to a few.
He did not have the time or energy to answer everyone, so he tried to keep his replies short.
"Thank you, brother."
"Really appreciate it."
"Thank you so much."
"God bless."
He also started liking some of the posts about the match.
He stopped at one video showing the winning goal.
He watched it once.
Then again.
Gabriel smiled.
Seeing the goal from another angle made the moment feel different.
He could hear the crowd again through the phone.
He remembered how quickly everything had happened.
The pass.
His movement.
The finish.
The net.
Then the celebration.
He shook his head slightly.
"It actually happened," he said quietly.
He continued scrolling.
After a few minutes, he tapped on his own profile.
He froze.
Gabriel looked at the number beside his followers.
He blinked.
He rubbed his eyes with one hand and looked again.
He was sure he had read it incorrectly.
He refreshed the page.
The number changed again.
Gabriel sat up slightly.
"Wait…"
He looked closer.
His followers had passed 70,000.
He stared at the screen.
Before joining Palmeiras, his account had been much smaller.
After signing with the club and going through the preseason, his followers had grown from around 10,000 to about 45,000.
That had already felt strange to him.
Forty-five thousand people following him was a number he had never imagined when he was younger.
But now…
70,000.
And the number was still moving.
Another notification appeared.
New follower.
Then another.
New follower.
Gabriel laughed quietly.
"You've got to be joking."
He refreshed the page again.
The number had increased slightly.
He put the phone down for a second and ran his hand over his face.
It was difficult to understand.
One match had changed so much.
He opened his followers list.
There were people from Brazil, Argentina, Colombia and other parts of South America.
But there were also followers from Europe.
England.
Spain.
France.
Portugal.
Germany.
And other places he had never expected.
He began opening a few profiles.
Some belonged to football fans.
Some belonged to journalists.
Some were football-related pages.
He leaned back against the headboard.
It suddenly hit him.
People had been watching.
Not just Palmeiras supporters.
Not just people in Brazil.
The match had reached far beyond the stadium.
Scouts, players, journalists, football fans and people who had never heard his name before were now seeing him for the first time.
He looked at his phone again.
The number of followers had increased once more.
Gabriel smiled, but this time there was something different behind the smile.
It was not pride.
At least, not completely.
There was also a little nervousness.
He understood what came with attention.
Yesterday, everyone had loved the goal.
Today, people were talking about him.
But football could change quickly.
One good match did not make him a great player.
He knew that.
There would be another training session in the evening.
There would be another match.
There would be mistakes.
There would be difficult days.
He did not want to become too comfortable because of one night.
Gabriel locked his phone and placed it beside him.
He looked toward the window.
The city outside was getting louder.
Cars were beginning to move along the streets. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear people talking.
He sat quietly for a moment.
Then his phone rang.
This time, it was not a social-media notification.
It was a message.
Gabriel picked it up.
It was from his brother.
"Mum and I are still at the hotel. We'll wait for you before we head back to Curitiba. Come and see us when you're free."
Gabriel smiled.
His mother and brother had travelled from Curitiba just to be there for his debut.
They had wanted to see him play his first match and support him from the stands.
Now that the match was over, they were getting ready to return to their hometown.
Gabriel had been so caught up in everything that happened after the game that he had almost forgotten they were still in town.
He quickly typed a reply.
"Okay. I'll come and see you before you leave."
Okay. I'll see you there.
A few seconds later, another message arrived.
Don't be late.
Gabriel laughed.
He shook his head.
Some things never changed.
Even after scoring a winning goal on his debut, his brother was still reminding him not to be late.
He put the phone down and stretched his legs carefully.
His muscles were still sore.
He slowly moved his feet and flexed his ankles.
"Yeah," he muttered. "I definitely need the rest."
He climbed out of bed.
His feet touched the floor, and he stood there for a moment.
His legs felt heavier than usual.
He walked toward the bathroom, moving slowly.
As he passed the mirror, he stopped.
For a moment, he looked at himself.
There was still a small smile on his face.
Yesterday, he had walked onto the pitch as a young player making his debut.
A few hours later, he had walked off as the player who scored the winning goal.
Now, the whole thing felt slightly unreal.
Gabriel shook his head and smiled.
"Just one game," he reminded himself.
He knew that was important.
One game.
One goal.
One night.
The real work was still ahead.
He went into the bathroom and washed his face with cold water.
When he returned to the room, his phone was already vibrating again.
Another message.
Another follower.
Another mention.
He looked at it but did not open it.
Instead, he picked up the bottle of water beside his bed and took a long drink.
He needed to stop looking at his phone.
At least for a while.
The attention was exciting, but it could also become a distraction.
Football had taught him one thing already.
The moment you start thinking too much about yesterday, you can lose focus on tomorrow.
Gabriel put the phone on silent.
He changed into comfortable clothes and opened the curtains slightly wider.
The morning light filled the room.
He stood by the window for a moment, looking outside.
The day had only just begun.
There would be breakfast.
Then he would meet his family.
Later, he would return to the football routine.
Training.
Recovery.
Travel.
Another match.
Another opportunity.
Gabriel smiled to himself.
Yesterday had been special.
But he did not want it to be the biggest moment of his career.
He wanted it to be the beginning.
He picked up his phone one final time.
The follower count had increased again.
He laughed softly.
"Okay," he said. "I think I need to stop checking this."
He placed the phone face down on the table.
Then he walked out of the room.
For the first time since the final whistle, Gabriel was ready to leave the night behind.
The goal had already happened.
The attention had already started.
Now came the difficult part.
Doing it again.