Dean Huljsen

The stands were buzzing, but for Dean, it all seemed to fade into the background. Dean Huysen stood in his own half, carefully watching the ball. The cold evening, the bright floodlights—everything was as usual. Almost.
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He noticed her even before the match started. Not because of her shouting or her bright clothes—on the contrary, she was simply standing a little to the side, watching the game as intently as he was.
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When their gazes met briefly, Dean was the first to look away. Not out of embarrassment—he was simply not used to being distracted. But something inside shifted nonetheless.
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The match ended in victory, the team rejoiced, and he, as always, remained calm. Just as he was leaving the stadium, Dean slowed his pace for a moment—as if expecting something.
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Sometimes even the most collected people need something to shake them out of their usual rhythm. And it looks like that happened today.

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