MTL NOVEL Chapter 6: 50's
The boys' changing room buzzed with the usual chaos—tracksuit bottoms being yanked on, deodorant clouding the air, voices bouncing off tiled walls. But Amias headed straight for the corner where Jordan and Tyler always claimed their spot, the same place they'd been changing since Year 7.
Jordan was already there, his Chelsea Academy PE kit hanging loose on his tall, lanky frame. His dark skin gleamed with a thin sheen of sweat from the walk to school, his short dreads pulled back with a band. Tyler sat beside him on the bench, stockier and shorter, his fade fresh and lined up perfect—probably got it done yesterday, knowing him.
"Yo," Jordan called out as Amias approached, his voice carrying that familiar lazy drawl. "Man's actually made it to PE today."
"Allow it," Amias grinned, dropping his bag. "Had Leatherback first thing, init?"
Tyler snorted, pulling his shirt over his head. "Swear that man's got it out for you specifically. Saw him going off earlier."
"Nah, he's calm really," Amias said, changing quickly. "Just doesn't rate man sleeping through his class."
"Speaking of sleeping," Jordan leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eye, "you lot see that new Fortnite update? They finally brought back Tilted Towers."
"Dead game," Tyler declared, but he was grinning. "But you know I'm for sure still gonna hop on tonight. Jordan's hosting anyway, right?"
"Yeah, about that," Jordan stretched, his long arms nearly touching the ceiling. "Mum's working late, dad's out. House is empty till like midnight. We could do FIFA tournament, proper link up."
"Your yard's blessed still," Tyler nodded.
"Who's rolling through?" Amias asked, trying to sound casual. He already knew the answer—their real circle.
"The usual," Jordan replied, lowering his voice slightly. "Men from the estate, probably Zeke if his mum lets him out. Maybe ten man total."
Tyler smirked. "Should we tell Elijah and them?"
They all burst out laughing, the sound echoing off the walls. The joke didn't need explaining—Elijah and his lot were school friends, nothing more.
"Speaking of," Jordan continued, his voice dropping further, "got something coming through later. Proper stuff from them Camden ones. You lot want in?"
Amias nodded slowly. He'd moved weight with Jordan and Tyler before—they were careful, smart about it. No stupid risks, no flashy moves. Just quiet business, keeping to their corners of White City Estate, respecting the boundaries.
"Cool, cool," Tyler said, standing. "Now let's actually get to this football before Cox loses it."
They headed out to the pitch, the grass wet with morning dew. Other boys were already kicking balls around, their shouts carrying across the field. Mr. Cox stood at the sideline, whistle hanging from his neck, looking thoroughly unimpressed with the general chaos.
"Yo," Jordan said suddenly, nodding toward the far end. "We could probably hit Westfield after school. Need to grab some food, maybe check out them new Jordans that dropped."
"Might have to pattern that," Tyler agreed. "Amias?"
"Yeah, I'm there." Amias watched as Cox started dividing them into teams. Clothes and shoes didn't matter much to him, but he'd never say no to a rendezvous with the bros.
They spent the next hour running up and down the pitch, their trainers getting soaked by the wet grass. Jordan was good at football, as expected, he'd played in the actual Chelsea Academy after all. His long legs made it easy for him to dribble pass defenders. And his technique no less impressive, especially for a striker.
Tyler played keeper, his stocky frame perfect for blocking shots—truly he was just terrible at everything else.
Amias stayed midfield. While playing football wasn't his strong suit, he was adept enough to run the play from the middle.
Between games, they caught their breath on the sidelines, conversation flowing easy and natural. They talked about everything and nothing—the new Call of Duty, the girl Tyler was trying to chat to on Snapchat, the latest drill tracks making rounds on TikTok.
"Rah, you lot see that tune from Digga?" Tyler asked, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"He's going hard still."
Jordan's face darkened slightly.
"Allow that chat for now," Amias said quietly, and the subject dropped. That was how it worked with them—no need for long explanations or arguments.
As they headed back to change, Jordan's phone buzzed. He checked it, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Damn, mumsy just got paid you know, might have to sponsor today."
Tyler's eyes lit up. "Saying McDonald's?"
"Saying whatever we're feeling," Jordan laughed. "But we ain't sitting in McDonald's, lets hit a food court thing."
<>
The food court at Westfield buzzed with life as Jordan leaned in, talking animatedly to Nina, a random stranger they'd drawn in. Tyler had somehow convinced her friend to share his fries, their heads bent close together as they chatted. But Amias barely registered any of it, his attention fixed on the translucent interface hovering in his vision.
[NEW TASK: All stats must reach 50]
[CP: 2]
"Shouldn't be too hard with these modifiers," he muttered under his breath, studying his current stats. Some were already well beyond the target - Lyrical Composition at 80, Freestyle at 77, Music Theory at 75. But others...
{"Would you like a detailed breakdown of each stat's meaning and measurement?"}
"Yeah," Amias thought back, careful to keep his expression neutral as he pretended to scroll through his phone. He hadn't gotten a break down as yet, and while most of the stats were self explanatory others weren't so much. "Like what exactly is Flow Control compared to Rhythm Recognition?"
The system's response materialized:
{"Flow Control measures your ability to manipulate timing, delivery, and cadence within verses. Rhythm Recognition is your innate understanding of beat patterns and musical timing. They're connected - improving one naturally enhances the other."}
Amias nodded slightly, taking a sip of his drink. "So someone could have high Flow Control but low Rhythm Recognition?"
{"Correct. Consider freestyle rappers who can deliver complex patterns but struggle to stay on beat. Or producers who understand rhythm perfectly but can't flow themselves."}
"Makes sense." Amias glanced at Jordan and Tyler, still absorbed in their conversations.
"Can you give me a quick round down of the others?"
The system hummed in response. A comprehensive list unfolding before his eyes:
{Stat Definitions:
Lyrical Composition: Ability to craft compelling lyrics, metaphors, and storytelling
Music Theory: Technical knowledge of musical structures and composition
Stage Presence: Command over audience attention and performance energy
Freestyle Ability: Spontaneous lyrical creation and improvisation
Melodic Perception: Understanding pitch, harmony, and musical progression
Vocal Projection: Control over voice volume, tone, and clarity
Beat Production: Skill in creating and arranging instrumental tracks
Sound Engineering: Technical mastery of recording and mixing}
Amias nodded, they all made sense. "What about the levels though? Like where does 50 actually put you?"
The system's interface shifted, displaying a new breakdown:
{"50-55: Average professional capability
56-65: Established professional
66-75: Elite tier
76-85: World-class
86-95: Legendary
96-100: Historical greatness
100+: Transcendent (rare)"}
"Transcendent… huh—give me some examples," Amias thought, genuinely curious now.
{"Lil Durk's Lyrical Composition ranges from 65-75
Baby Keem: 75-85
Kendrick Lamar: 96-100+
Drake's Melodic Perception: 90-100+
J Cole's Music Theory: 80-95"}
"Damn," Amias breathed. "So I'm actually..."
{"Your Lyrical Composition at 80 places you at world-class level. However, your Stage Presence at 44 is below professional standard."}
"Yeah, about that," Amias frowned. "How am I supposed to improve Stage Presence from my bedroom? Watch some Andrew Tate confidence videos or something?"
The system seemed to pause, as if considering his sarcasm.
{"Stage Presence can be developed through various methods. Recording yourself performing, studying movement and energy projection, practicing facial expressions and gestures..."}
"Nah, that's kind of peak." Amias pushed his fries around. "What about Flow Control? That's at 46."
{"Flow Control improves naturally through practice. Your high Freestyle Ability will accelerate this process. Would you like example exercises?"}
"Later." Amias' mind was racing. "Sound Engineering's at 46 too. But Beat Production's already at 54, so that should help, right?"
{"Correct. Related skills enhance learning speed. Your exceptional Music Theory stat will also accelerate technical skill development."}
"And with the double rate modifier until 50..." Amias started planning in his head. "Morning sessions for technical stuff, maybe afternoons for—"
"Fam, you good?" Tyler's voice cut through his thoughts. "You've been bare quiet."
Amias looked up, realizing he'd been lost in conversation with the system for ages. "Yeah, just thinking about stuff."
Jordan perked up. "Speaking of, you lot sure about Camden later?"
Amias shot him a sharp glare to which Jordon quickly picked up on, what sort of idiot was he to air their business out around random girls.
"Nah," Amias finally said, surprising himself with how easily the decision came. "Got other plans."
{"Would you like to review potential training schedules?"}
Amias fought back a smile. Other plans indeed. This was shaping up interestingly.
Nina leaned forward, curious to learn more of him. "You can swim? Jordan mentioned it earlier."
"Used to," Amias replied, but his mind was already back with the system, he had no intent on conversing right now. "Yo," he thought, "run me through exactly what I need to focus on first."
{"Priority areas for improvement:
- Flow Control (46/100): Practice delivery, study patterns
- Rhythm Recognition (49/100): Beat analysis, timing exercises
- Stage Presence (44/100): Performance practice, energy control
- Sound Engineering (46/100): Technical study, mixing practice
- Melodic Perception (46/100): Pitch training, harmony study"}
He hummed in agreement. His stats definitely needed improving and he could only wonder how long it would take until he saw improvements. Though, likely with his position, he expected they'd come in faster than he'd expect now that he understood what to do.
And if he wanted to be able to replicate those song structures, he definitely needed to up his level as currently he stood no chance when his flow control was as good as a ducks.
"Bro Amias," Tyler flicked him on the shoulder, causing him to look up. "Stop spacing out bro, are you high or something?"
Amias clicked, taking a glance back at the interface before letting out a resounding sigh. "My bad," He muttered, his phone now in his pocket. "I was just thinking about a few things."
Jordan looked at him incredulously. "Working on a few things? Is that what's stopping you from running our thing fam'?"
For all its worth, Jordan did raise a question that stirred within him a manner of intrigue: why had he rejected that Candem play?
Sure he had a fair amount of G's, around 12 thousand give or take, but a run like this could easily pocket him an extra 500 and that was on the lower side.
He hesitated for a moment, the reason almost inarticulable. "Come on, you know I have my reasons."
"Yeah, I'm sure you have a lot of reasons, scared to stand next to me after I meged you earlier?" Tyler mocked drawing a intended giggle from Nina, a sly smirk planted on his face all the while.
"This guy." Amias couldn't help but inwardly facepalm. On no earth would a 5'7 footballer built like Shaqiri with a first touch worst than Lukaku's, ever nutmeg him on any football field.
...
<>
Hi.
https://kÓ-fi.com/sincerec
Two extra chapters of Luka and this.
https://d-scord.gg/QsfGErNX
I'll put the links on my profile
For your awareness. This story will only cover the first part of his career around 50 chapters or so.
Of course, some chapters will be longer to make up for this.
Of course, I will ensure not to disappoint.
[Edit: Ko-Fi is selling so we'll use patr-on instead when my account is reactivated]