Become A Football Legend-Chapter 267: Down

Meanwhile, at The Lowry Hotel in Manchester, Lukas was still laying on his back staring at the ceiling, his thoughts heavy and unfocused. His mind was still tangled in timelines and truths, in words like complications and adoption, in the strange weight of learning that his existence had altered more than he ever knew.

He felt drained. Not physically — emotionally. The kind of exhaustion that settles into the chest and refuses to move. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

He had no idea.

No idea that in Manchester, executives were debating €85m decisions.

No idea that in Madrid, Simeone was replaying his defensive sprint over and over.

No idea that 2 clubs from 2 different parts of the continent were quietly setting plans into motion.

While he lay in a hotel room questioning his origins, the future of his career was being negotiated in boardrooms he had never stepped foot in.

And he was completely unaware.

* * *

Later that evening, the drive to the airport was silent.

Javi had arrived at The Lowry to find Lukas already waiting in the lobby, suitcase beside him, hood up despite the mild weather. He looked composed from a distance, but as soon as Javi got closer, he saw it — the faint puffiness around his eyes, the slight redness that no amount of washing could fully hide.

Lukas didn’t say a word.

He simply nodded once when Javi approached, picked up his suitcase, and walked toward the rented car.

Javi didn’t ask anything either.

The ride to Manchester Airport passed in near-total quiet. The city lights blurred past the windows as traffic hummed around them, but inside the vehicle, there was only the soft sound of the engine and the occasional click of an indicator. Javi stole glances at his son more than once, trying to read him, trying to see if there was anything he could say that wouldn’t make things worse.

But Lukas just stared ahead.

At the airport, they moved efficiently. First class check-in. Security. Lounge. Boarding.

Still no words.

It was so unlike him that it unsettled Javi deeply. Lukas was rarely loud, but he was never this withdrawn. Even after bad games, even after injuries, there was always something — a joke, a shrug, a comment about what he could’ve done better. This was different. This felt heavier.

Once they were seated on the plane, Javi finally broke the silence.

"I’m here for you," he said quietly, not looking directly at Lukas, as if trying to make it easier. "If you ever want to talk about... anything. You know that, right?"

Lukas gave a small nod.

"Yeah," he murmured.

That was all.

The rest of the flight passed in the same muted stillness. Lukas reclined slightly, eyes open but unfocused, headphones resting around his neck unused. The cabin lights dimmed as they began their descent into Frankfurt.

Javi watched him for a long moment before reaching into his pocket.

He unlocked his phone and typed quickly.

Joanna, can you come to Frankfurt tonight? He’s not in a good place.

The message sent.

The reply came almost immediately.

I’ll be there. I’ll go to his apartment.

She didn’t ask what had happened.

She didn’t need to.

Javi exhaled quietly.

* * *

When they landed in Frankfurt, word had already spread.

Rumors had been swirling all day. Lukas had not returned with the squad the previous night. The story circulating online was simple and dramatic: he had stayed back in Manchester to negotiate with Manchester City.

By the time Javi and Lukas exited the airport, there were already fans gathered outside the arrival area.

They weren’t hostile.

They were desperate.

Scarves. Flags. Handmade cardboard signs.

PLEASE LUKAS DON’T LEAVE.

STAY WITH US.

49 FOREVER.

Javi felt the shift in Lukas the moment he saw them. His shoulders straightened slightly. The hood came down.

Even with the fatigue in his eyes, he walked forward.

A young boy near the front of the small crowd was crying openly. He couldn’t have been older than 10. He was wearing a red Frankfurt jersey with BRANDT 49 printed across the back, and tears streamed down his face as he held onto the barrier.

"Please don’t go," the boy sobbed, voice breaking.

For a brief second, Lukas froze.

His own day had been heavy enough to drown in, but that sight cut through everything.

He stepped toward the barrier, ignoring the calls of security.

He knelt down on one knee in front of the boy.

"It’s okay," he said softly.

The kid wiped at his face, still crying.

Lukas reached up and gently wiped the remaining tears from the boy’s cheeks with his thumb, careful and deliberate. He took a marker from someone nearby and signed the jersey the boy was wearing, the pen pressing slightly into the fabric.

"You don’t have to cry," Lukas added, voice steady now.

The boy nodded frantically.

The father standing beside him kept repeating, "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Lukas ruffled the boy’s hair lightly, offering him a small, genuine smile.

Then he stood, raised a hand in a quiet wave to the rest of the fans, and began walking forward again.

The signs still waved. The pleas still echoed.

But none of them knew.

None of them knew why he had stayed in Manchester.

None of them knew what was actually weighing on him.

As he walked past the crowd and toward the car, his expression settled again — calm, composed — even though the storm inside him had not passed.

* * *

The taxi rolled to a stop in front of the Profi Camp complex.

It was late. The building stood quiet under the dim exterior lights, the pathways nearly empty. Lukas stepped out from the back seat, pulling his suitcase behind him. The night air was cool against his face, and for a moment he just stood there.

Javi didn’t get out.

Lukas leaned slightly toward the front window. It rolled down.

"You’re not staying?" Lukas asked.

Javi shook his head gently. "I need to get back to Darmstadt."

There was a pause.

"Please," Lukas said, and this time there was no pride in his voice. "Can’t you just stay tonight?"

Javi looked at him for a long second. There was understanding in his eyes. And something else — a quiet confidence.

"Don’t worry," he said softly. "You’ll thank me for not staying."

Lukas frowned faintly. "What?"

"Go inside," Javi replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You’ll see."

Before Lukas could press him further, the window rolled back up. The taxi pulled away, headlights fading as it turned the corner.

Lukas watched the car disappear down the road, a faint heaviness settling in his chest. He stood there a moment longer than necessary before finally turning toward the entrance.

The complex was silent.

Too silent.

His footsteps echoed faintly through the corridor as he made his way toward his block. The quiet pressed in around him, amplifying every thought he’d tried to suppress throughout the day. The hum of distant ventilation. The soft click of his suitcase wheels. The sound of his own breathing.

It felt like the walls were listening.

He reached his door, set his suitcase upright, and entered his PIN. The lock beeped softly before clicking open.

He pushed the door inward.

And froze.