The Next Big Thing
Chapter 109: Medicals and Resolve

"Good news," the doctor said with a reassuring smile, glancing up from the notes on his clipboard. "You’re progressing well. The swelling’s gone down, and the damage to your knee isn’t as bad as we thought. The cast was precautionary. It’s not needed anymore."

David forced a smile, but inside, he didn’t feel so sure. The thought of not being able to play for a while, of having to slow down, was like a tight knot in his chest. Still, he wasn’t about to let that show. He’d always prided himself on being tough—no injury, no challenge, could hold him back. Not for long, at least.

"I’ll be fine," he muttered, trying to sound as casual as possible, though his words were sharp. "Just tell me what to do to get back out there."

The doctor, a calm and understanding man, didn’t miss the edge in David’s voice. He’d seen it before—the pride, the urgency to get back on the field, the refusal to acknowledge the depth of the problem. He knew how athletes were. He also knew David wouldn’t be the first to push himself too hard.

"Let’s take it step by step," the doctor said gently, placing his hand on David’s knee and testing the range of motion. "We’ll start with some basic exercises. I need to make sure there’s no lasting damage and that you’re capable of moving properly."

David clenched his jaw but said nothing. He knew the drill—he’d been through injuries before even though not like this. this one was different. The pain was sharper, the limitations more immediate.

"Try bending your knee," the doctor instructed, and David did, pushing his heel down. The stretch felt like it went too deep, the muscles resisting, the joint protesting with a sharp jolt of pain.

David gritted his teeth, but his face remained neutral. No one needed to know how much it hurt. He wasn’t about to show any sign of weakness.

David’s mind was focused on one thing: the sooner the doctor thought he wasn’t in pain, the sooner he could get back to what mattered—playing. If the doctor saw him struggling, if he thought the injury was worse than it was, that meant more tests, more downtime. The longer he was stuck here, the further away the field seemed. So, David pushed the pain aside, biting his lip and fighting through it, all while forcing himself to seem as unaffected as possible. He had to look fine, look strong, because the quicker the doctor thought he was ready, the quicker he could get back to being himself.

"Does it hurt?" the doctor asked, watching closely.

David’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t answer immediately. The pain radiated from the back of his knee, down into his calf. He hated it, hated feeling vulnerable, but he knew he had to follow through. "A little," he said after a beat, his voice steady. "But,I can handle it."

The doctor didn’t push him on it. Instead, he checked David’s foot, gently rotating it to ensure the muscles weren’t too stiff. He could tell David wasn’t a fan of being told what to do, but the doctor also knew that pushing him too hard could do more harm than good.

"Good," the doctor said. "We’ll work on strengthening the area over the next few weeks. I’ll give you some rehab exercises to help you get back to full strength, but I want you to take it easy for now."

David’s pride pricked at those words. "Take it easy," he muttered under his breath. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He didn’t want to sit around; he didn’t want to be told to hold back. He’d always been the one to push through. That was how he got where he was.

"Do you understand what I’m saying?" the doctor continued, catching David’s eye. "I know you’re eager to get back, but if you rush this, you’ll risk further injury or worse long term permanent damage. And that’s something you don’t want."

David looked at the doctor, his gaze hard but thoughtful. He knew the man was right. But still, the desire to push through, to prove that he was stronger than any setback, burned fiercely inside him. He couldn’t afford to sit on the sidelines.

"I’ll do whatever it takes to get back on the field," David said, his voice quiet but filled with resolve. "Just tell me what I need to do."

The doctor smiled, appreciating the determination, even if it was a bit much. "I’ll give you the exercises you need, but you also have to be smart about this. No heavy strain just yet. We’ll start slow."

David nodded, but it wasn’t the kind of acceptance the doctor was hoping for. David wasn’t the type to take things slow—he never had been. He had always been the one to push himself, to take that extra step, even when everyone else told him to back off. But even he knew when he had to bite back his pride for a moment.

The doctor checked his leg one more time, asking David to stand and put a little weight on it. Slowly, David shifted his weight onto the injured leg, feeling the muscles in his knee resist. The moment he shifted fully, the pain exploded through him, sharp and almost unbearable. His body jerked slightly, but he caught himself. He wasn’t about to let the doctor see him struggle.

The doctor watched David carefully, his expression soft but serious. "Easy, David. Just a little at a time."

David didn’t respond right away. He stayed in place for a long moment, trying to find his balance. His leg was shaking, every muscle working against him. But he couldn’t back down—not now. With a slow, deliberate motion, he took another small step forward, gritting his teeth against the fire that shot up through his leg.

"It’s nothing," David muttered under his breath, his voice steady despite the sharp pain. "Just a little setback. It’s nothing."

The doctor watched him for a moment before speaking again, his voice low but kind. "Listen, David. I know you want to get this done quick. I get it. But don’t let your pride push you too far. It’s important to heal properly."

David didn’t say anything to that. He just stood there, his face covered with determination. He wasn’t going to give up. Not for anything.

The doctor could see the fire in David’s eyes. He knew that the young athlete had a drive that most people didn’t possess. It was that same drive that had gotten him to where he was in his career. But the doctor also knew how important it was to take the right steps. David needed to listen, or this injury could linger longer than necessary.

"Alright, take it easy for now," the doctor said with a nod, moving toward the door. "I’ll have the team call a driver to drive you home. Keep your leg elevated and rest."

David didn’t argue all he did was tell him not to worry that he had someone already. He knew it was what needed to be done, but he also knew that this wasn’t the end. This was just a pause. He would be back on the field—stronger, faster. It was just going to take time.

Prakesh, the driver, helped him into the car and drove him back to his apartment. The journey felt long, even though it was only a short distance. David’s mind churned with frustration and determination. He had to rest, had to follow the doctor’s orders. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was wasting time.

When they reached his apartment, Prakesh helped him inside, and David sank onto the couch, exhausted. The pain in his leg was still there, throbbing softly, but it was more the mental exhaustion that wore him down. He picked up his phone and saw a message from his mom: "How was it?"

David stared at the message for a moment. He didn’t want to worry her. Didn’t want to make her think he wasn’t handling this. He typed a quick reply: "It was fine."

Lying back on the couch, David closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the day settle over him. He hated feeling vulnerable like this, but he knew it was part of the process. He needed to rest. He needed to follow through.

But even as he lay there, his mind raced. He could still see the field in his mind’s eye. Hear the roar of the crowd at this point to just even be able to train again. He would get back there. This injury wasn’t going to stop him. Slowly, he moved his leg, testing the pain once again. It flared up, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. despite the doctor saying he should rest David was planning on pushing himself

"It’s nothing," he whispered to himself, his eyes locked on the ceiling. "Just a little pain. I’ll be fine."

David took a deep breath, determined as ever. He wasn’t going to let this injury define him. Not now. Not ever.