Football singularity-Chapter 466 Conversations

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"We have to take our leave now. It was good meeting you two," Wolfgang said in a warm tone as he retracted his gaze from the field below. The match had been over for 20 minutes, and most of the fans had started clearing the stands.

If it were up to his daughter, they wouldn't leave at all, as the little girl seemed to be having the time of her life. "Is that really him? He looks so nerdy in that picture, so unlike the superhero he is on the field." The little girl questioned May as they hunched over the latter's phone on a nearby sofa.

May giggled softly, her peach-blond hair cascading forward as she swiped through her phone's gallery. "Trust me, Anna-Marie, he's the biggest nerd you'll ever meet," she said playfully, her green eyes sparkling with affection. "But I promise I'll make sure he signs something special for you at the finals. Sound good?"

Anna-Marie's light brown eyes widened in excitement, her dark auburn hair bouncing slightly as she nodded eagerly. "Promise?" May extended her pinkie finger, and Anna-Marie quickly hooked it with her own. "Promise."

Lisa smiled warmly from the side, turquoise-gold eyes watching the interaction thoughtfully. "You two better get going," she said softly, looking toward Wolfgang. "Traffic leaving these events can be a nightmare."

"You're right," he admitted with a sigh, silently wishing he had brought over his helicopter, not at all looking forward to the stadium turmoil. "We should go. But I suppose we'll see each other again soon, in fact, it's just four days. Will your husband be joining us?"

"Absolutely," Lisa said, stepping forward to shake his hand warmly. "He will indeed, wouldn't miss it for the world. It was a pleasure meeting the two of you hope your business here goes well."

"Likewise," Wolfgang replied, turning his attention briefly back to May. "And thank you for entertaining Anna-Marie. She hasn't stopped talking about Rakim since hopping on the plane here."

May laughed warmly, her eyes crinkling in amusement. "Anytime. She's wonderful."

With one last wave, Wolfgang gently took his daughter's hand, leading her toward the exit. Anna-Marie looked back over her shoulder, waving enthusiastically. "See you at the finals, May!"

"See you then!" May called back with a smile.

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving May and Lisa alone in the plush suite overlooking the nearly empty stadium. For a moment, silence enveloped them.

"Seems Rakim has yet another dedicated fan," Lisa noted with amusement, folding her arms casually as she leaned back against the plush leather chair. "It's good to see just some of the impact he has on people who love to watch him play."

"Oh, don't get all emotional, Mrs Rex, or they will think I'm bullying you," May quickly retorted with a teasing tone, instantly breaking the sappy mood, the mama bear was feeling. "But you're right, it's really sweet to see one of his fans as more than just a number on social media or singing their heart out in matches."

~~~

[Valencia, Spain]

The plane had barely touched down at Valencia Airport before Matteo Smith found himself flooded by a wave of texts from Oliver Douglas Burke, each more insistent than the last. By the time he reached the baggage claim, his phone buzzed again. This time, Matteo picked up with a sigh.

"Oliver," he greeted curtly, exhaustion evident in his voice.

"Mateo, glad you landed," Oliver's voice came through firm, with a hint of tension underlying his normally composed tone. "We need to talk immediately."

Matteo groaned slightly, rubbing his temple as he moved toward the airport exit. "What is it now? Can't it wait until tomorrow? I just landed—"

"NIKI hasn't kept their side of the deal," Oliver cut in bluntly. "They were supposed to roll out a red carpet offer that positioned you as the next face of the brand following this tournament, but they have reneged."

Matteo stopped abruptly, causing a couple behind him to nearly collide with his stationary suitcase. "Hey, I'm walking over (Spanish version) a pedestrian exclaimed in a huff before continuing on with his day.

Matteo didn't care, though, as he growled into the phone, "What?" he demanded answers. "After everything? They wasted 1 month of my life, Oliver, with their little powerplays?"

Oliver exhaled sharply. "I know and trust me, I'm mad too. They think you and Team USA's loss to him in the semis changed the narrative. So, they want to push the blame on someone for all the resources they invested. I don't see it as a total waste, though."

Matteo, having reached the side of the taxi bay outside the airport, flagged one down before entering. "A Sant Francesc por favor, (to Sant Francesc please)" he told the driver after sliding his duffel bag onto the seat next to him. The driver simply nodded his head and started the meter as they hit the streets.

"Please do tell me how wasting valuable time I could have been furthering my career is a good thing," He retorted with a measured tone as he looked outside the window, watching the familiar Spanish scenery that passed outside his window.

"Hahah exposure son, I know what you can do on the field and have bet my entire career on what you will achieve. You lacked one thing, though, and that was the spotlight directly shining on you. How you are perceived off the field is just as important as what you do on it's an entertainment sport after all." Oliver responded in a light-hearted tone, no longer feeling worried over the fallout with NIKI.

During his journey back to England he had a lot of time to think and eventually concluded that NIKI had fucked up. They had built up potential starlets but failed to lock them down with a binding contract. It's as if Marvel only signed Tom Holland for just the Civil War movie without fully capitalising on the actor's popularity gained by his brief role.

"Just focus on fighting for a starting position when you get back. I've been on calls with some interesting offers, and one of them is Valencia looking to extend your contract, but I've been holding them off." Oliver continued in a much more serious tone, letting his young client know about their next game plan.

"You always find a way to change the game when it looks like checkmate, don't you?" Matteo retorted with a light smile as he could practically hear the gears turn in his agent's mind. "Just no more BS that will take me off my path, let my gameplay do the talking, everything else is up to you."

Oliver chuckled warmly, the tension in his voice fading noticeably. "That's exactly what I was hoping you'd say. Let me handle the business—you're best when you just play your game."

Matteo leaned his head back against the taxi's cushioned seat, a small smile forming on his lips. "Alright then, Oliver. Call me tomorrow after I've slept. We'll talk specifics then."

"Rest easy, Mat," Oliver responded reassuringly. "We still got what we were aiming for, so trust in that. Get some rest."

Matteo ended the call, exhaling deeply as the lights of Valencia's familiar streets flashed past his window. His body was weary from the tournament, but his mind was clear, ready to conquer the next stage. The uncertainty surrounding NIKI felt distant now; all that mattered was securing his spot on Valencia's starting roster and showing the world his true worth.

~~~

[London, England]

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Rain gently tapped against expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that provided a breathtaking view of the Thames. Illuminated by the soft glow of recessed lighting, a well-dressed figure stood in front of the panorama, hands clasped casually behind his back. The lavish decor around him—rich mahogany furniture, priceless art, and polished marble floors—oozed elegance, yet his attention was fixed entirely on the conversation playing out over the speakerphone.

"—you should have seen him in person," Wolfgang Wagner's voice emanated from the phone, carrying a sense of excitement. "It's uncanny. Like stepping back in time, looking into a mirror from and seeing the past."

A slow, thoughtful frown appeared on the figure's handsome visage as he picked up a glass of wine from a nearby table. His green eyes glowed in the warm light as he took a sip from his glass and let his mind wander. "You're certain?"

"Absolutely," Wolfgang affirmed without hesitation. "The boy is the spitting image of you at that age. Probably more handsome, but the same confidence is definitely there. The talent is unmistakable, but whom he got it from beats me? Certainly not you and your two left feet."

The figure turned slightly, his eyes glinting with quiet intensity as he gazed out at the river below. "Does he suspect anything?"

The man chuckled softly, the rich timbre of his voice resonating warmly against the subtle hum of rainfall. "Careful now, Wolfgang. I may not have dazzled anyone on the pitch, but my strengths always lay elsewhere."

Wolfgang laughed in response, genuine and unrestrained. "Of course, I meant no offence to the King of Finance. Though just because he resembles you doesn't mean he is your son,"

"I just know, you know I only found out about his existence when it was already too late, so even if there is only a slight possibility, I have to chase that chance. I owe her that much," He responded in a melancholic tone as his gaze moved towards the TV on the wall that was currently replaying an interview.

On the screen, the sweaty figure of Rakim could be seen standing in front of the interview area. "We've made it this far, I think we're allowed to dream of bringing it home now," he stated with a bright smile clearly sharing his joy of winning the match and reaching the finals.

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To Be Continued...