Lexi gave a small shrug. "Enjoy your holiday."

Jane hesitated for just a moment longer, like she wanted to say something else, but she didn’t. Instead, she grabbed her suitcase, Roger opened the door, and just like that, they were gone.

The apartment fell quiet.

Lexi stood there for a second, staring at the closed door before frowning slightly. "...Germany?" she muttered to herself. A whole week. Both of them. At the same time.

She shifted her weight, arms folding loosely. "That’s... kind of weird."

Another pause passed before she shook her head lightly. "Maybe I’m overthinking it."

Turning back into the living room, she dropped onto the couch and stretched out comfortably, a small grin forming on her face. "Finally... house to myself."

She reached for her phone, unlocking it quickly, scrolling for a second before tapping a contact and lifting it to her ear as the line began to ring.

Cut.

The car moved steadily through the morning traffic, calm and controlled. Soft music played from the stereo, low enough to blend into the background, filling the silence without breaking it.

Roger kept his eyes on the road, hands steady on the wheel. Beside him, Jane sat quietly, the window rolled down slightly as the breeze brushed against her face while she stared out at the passing city.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then Roger glanced at her. "What’s on your mind?"

Jane didn’t turn. "Nothing."

He didn’t respond, didn’t push, just kept driving as the silence stretched again, longer this time, heavier.

Then she spoke.

"I’m scared."

Her voice was quieter now, less controlled.

Roger didn’t look at her, but he was listening.

"I’m scared he won’t like me," she continued, her eyes still fixed outside. "I don’t even know what I’m going to say."

Her hands tightened slightly in her lap. "I’ve been thinking about it all week. Rehearsing it... over and over. And I still don’t know."

The car moved forward, steady and uninterrupted.

After a moment, Roger spoke. "You don’t have to have the perfect words."

Jane swallowed. "What if it’s not enough?"

"He’ll listen," Roger said simply. "From what I saw... from what I know... he seems like the kind of person who listens."

Jane didn’t answer.

"He might not say what you want to hear," Roger added after a beat. "I don’t know that. But he’ll listen."

Silence settled again.

Jane leaned back slightly in her seat, closing her eyes for a moment as the wind brushed past her. The music played on, the road stretched ahead, and neither of them spoke again until the airport came into view.

* * *

Darmstadt didn’t scream luxury, but it didn’t need to.

Tucked into one of its quieter, more refined streets stood Maritim Hotel Darmstadt, a place that didn’t try too hard to impress yet carried that unmistakable feel of importance—polished glass, clean lines, and the kind of understated elegance that serious people preferred.

Inside, the hallways were quiet. Carpeted floors muted every step, the lighting soft but deliberate. No noise. No distractions. Just purpose.

Lukas walked ahead slightly, Javi and Marco just behind him as they made their way down the corridor toward the room. He rolled his shoulders once. Then again. And as they got closer, he took a deep breath in... held it for a second... and let it out slowly.

Marco noticed immediately. "Are you still nervous?" he asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Lukas cracked his fingers, flexing them one after the other as they walked. "You can’t blame me," he said. "This is Pep we’re talking about." He glanced ahead, then shook his head lightly, almost laughing at himself. "He’s like the greatest coach ever. How am I supposed to not be nervous?"

Marco let out a soft chuckle, genuinely amused. "This is new," he said. "First time I’m seeing you like this."

Lukas shrugged, trying to play it off, but the tension was still there, sitting just beneath the surface.

"Sometimes I forget how old you are," Marco continued. "On the pitch, you don’t look like a kid at all." He paused for a second, then added, "It’s actually nice to see this."

Lukas glanced at him sideways and scoffed lightly. "Don’t get used to it."

They reached the door. Marco stepped forward and knocked.

A brief pause.

Then a voice from inside—calm, familiar. "Come in."

Marco pushed the door open.

The room was... simpler than expected. No extravagant setup. No grand staging. Just a clean, modest hotel suite—two sofas facing each other, a low table between them, a couple of chairs by the window. Functional. Quiet. Focused.

And sitting there—Pep Guardiola. Across from him, Hugo Viana.

Both looked up as the door opened. Then they stood.

Pep moved first. He walked straight toward Lukas, closing the distance without hesitation, his eyes already studying him in that sharp, observant way of his. He reached out and took Lukas’s hand, firm grip, deliberate.

"Nice to meet you," he said.

"Lukas," Lukas replied, returning the handshake. "Nice to meet you."

Javi and Marco stepped forward after, exchanging greetings with both Pep and Viana before they all settled in. Lukas sat across from Pep. Javi took a seat slightly to the side. Marco remained composed, observant.

And for a brief second—there was silence. Not awkward. Just... weighty.

Pep leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. "I’m a big fan," he said, simply.

Lukas blinked once.

Pep continued, calm but direct. "I’ve been following your games for months now. I don’t usually travel for things like this." He gestured lightly toward Viana. "Normally, this is his job." A small smile. "But this time... I wanted to come myself."

Lukas nodded slowly. "I appreciate that," he said. "I’m a big fan too. What you’ve done... it’s incredible."

Pep waved that off lightly, not interested in praise. Then his focus sharpened again. "Let’s talk football."

And just like that, the room shifted. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

Pep started explaining. Not in broad, vague ideas. But specifics. Movements. Angles. Decisions.

"I like how you operate in the final third," he said. "You’re comfortable on both flanks. You can take your man outside, you can cut inside, you can shoot, you can pass, you can break lines." He tapped his fingers lightly against his knee. "But there are small things. In the build-up. In your positioning before the ball comes. The timing of your movements." His eyes stayed locked on Lukas. "Details."

Lukas didn’t interrupt. Didn’t rush to respond. He just listened. Every word.

Pep leaned back slightly now, studying him. "You have something that cannot be taught," he continued. "The way you carry the ball. The way you see spaces before they open." A pause. Then, more quietly—"Players like that... they are rare."

Lukas felt it. That shift. That weight behind the words.

"I believe," Pep went on, "that if you come, if you work, if you understand what we do... you can become one of the best players to ever play this game." No exaggeration in his tone. No theatrics. Just certainty.

"And I want to be part of that."

The room went quiet again. But this time, it felt different.

Lukas hadn’t realized it, but somewhere along the conversation, his posture had changed. The tension was gone. His shoulders had relaxed. And slowly, almost unconsciously, a smile had started forming. It wasn’t wide. Not dramatic. But it was there.

And the smile... was growing.

********************

A/N: This Chapter is sponsored by Arthur. Thank you so much for the biscuit! I really appreciate!! Hope you enjoy the Chapter.

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