#bumbadoo

He had just moved to England. To London. Changed his address, moved his possessions from his student housing to a home. From football school to premier league football. He was on his own. He had been working his whole life for this. 19 years old, and he had just been signed to a premier league team. Moe Bumbercatch was sat in his new home with nothing but two suitcases and an AFC Richmond gift basket.

"I don't understand why you didn't want me to help you furnish your home, Schätzli," Janet Bumbercatch said to the phone, "do you even have a bed? Do you have things to cook with?"

Moe smiled even though she couldn't see it, "Mamma, I promise I'm fine. I'm going furniture shopping this weekend and I have my sleeping bag for now. It's an adventure."

"Mohammed Hamza Bumbercatch, I love you but I will never understand you. What are your plans for tonight?" She asked

Moe laughed, it was an old joke of theirs. He was her only son and they were very close.

"I'll go out to eat. Unpack my Nintendo switch and knitting supplies, and get some rest for tomorrow," he told her.

"I love you, Moe," Janet said, "be safe. And don't let that Roy Kent give you any trouble. You're a great player."

"Love you mom," he said. "Tell dad I said goodnight and that I'll talk to him tomorrow."

He hung up with a soft sigh before unzipping his bags and digging for his latest hat he was working on.

-

After walking around London aimlessly for a while, Moe decided to try one of the restaurants that looked homely. It was just called "Sara's" and the menu posted outside the front door had a vegetarian dish that sounded incredible and he just wanted something to tide him over until his first day of work with a premier league team.

The restaurant wasn't crowded, an older couple sat by the window, two teen boys doing homework while eating towards the back and a woman reading a book and eating towards the center.

Moe ordered the vegetarian dumpling platter and sat down at a two seat table on his phone while he waited. Twitter was talking about Greece's debt and the latest I, Robot episode. Moe could only think about football.

The bell above the door rang as a guy around his age walked in the restaurant.

"Isaac," the employee called out, "your usual?"

"Two," Isaac, apparently, said. "Big day tomorrow." Isaac looked around his age and was a tall broad mountain of a guy with the beginnings of a mustache on his lip. He was dressed in bright, dramatic colors, but he pulled it off.

The employee smiled, "you think Richmonds got good odds this year?"

Isaac shook his head, "With Cartrick as a coach? They'll be lucky to tie all season."

Moe wished he was born with the ability to have tact. He scoffed.

Isaac's eyes shot to him, "something to say, bruv?"

Moe started at him studying his features. This wasn't the type of guy who would try and fight him. This wasn't the type of guy who would fight him. He also thought the guy was attractive, but he forced that outside. He couldn't afford to be attracted to men.

"It's too soon to tell," Moe said to Isaac, "the team hasn't even started practicing. Cartrick may be an old hat one trick pony, but a team is as good as its players."

"You think they'll win because they have Roy Kent?" Isaac asked with squinted gaze.

"No," Moe said, "it's too soon to tell. I'll tell you after the first two matches of the season."

Isaac smiled wide, "Will you, now? Maybe I ought to give you my number, bruv. So I can send you condolences when we lose." Was this guy flirting with him? He had to not be optimistic about that.

"You're on."

Moe's food was served, and the bag that he had planned to take home was unpacked as he stayed in his seat.

"So who's your team?" Isaac asked.

"F.C. St. Gallen," Moe said, "Swiss team, I'm swiss." God He was being so awkward in front of this hot guy. This was not how he was supposed to spend his first night in England.

"Cool, how long have you been in England"

"2 hours."

Isaac nodded. "I'm from Peckham. I can show you around, maybe. Sometime. If you want."

Moe nodded with a smile. Shit.

Isaac ate his food at the same table as Moe, and they spent half the night talking football. It was fun. It was nice. Moe wished he wasn't too afraid to ask for Isaac's number.

"It's getting late," Isaac said. "I need to get going soon."

"I'll see you around then," Moe said.

Isaac smiled, "Definitely. Good luck to, uh, St. Gallon?"

"Galen," he corrected, "just root for Richmond, will you?"

Isaac nodded, "always do."

-

After waking up in a sleeping bag and changing into his best fit, Moe headed to Nelson Road. They weren't actually training today, just him and the other new recruits getting the lay of the pand and signing some paperwork. Maybe a photoshoot or two if Rupert Mannion was the type.

He took a deep breath as he walked into the lobby of the training grounds. He could do this. He had earned this. He was a good footballer.

Here goes nothing.

"Moe?" A familiar voice asked.

"Isaac?" Moe said with a smile.