Chapter 28 : A Day In

The next morning, Nico woke up and went through his usual routine—washing up, grabbing his meal from the nutritionist, and settling down for breakfast. As he ate, he absentmindedly scrolled through Instagram, checking out the match reactions from last night.

His eyes landed on a post from @laliga, and as soon as he opened it, he nearly choked on his food.

The post was a carousel of shirtless footballers in their prime—Cristiano Ronaldo, Neymar, Sergio Ramos, even his own manager Luis Enrique from his playing days. And then, the last slide? A photo of him, just a 14-year-old, shirtless after his celebration, flexing in front of Espanyol fans.

Nico blinked. Then blinked again.

"What the hell is this?" he muttered.

The caption didn't help either.

@laliga: A tradition of greatness. 💪🔥 Who did it best?

The comment section was even worse.

@sergioramos: 14 going on 28.

@mancity: Just a kid, huh? 👀

@barcacentre: La Masia's finest keeping the legacy alive.

@espnofficial: Nico already a legend at 14? 🤯

Nico kept scrolling, shaking his head as he read through the comments. Some were hyping up his performance, others joking about his flex—but a couple of them had him pausing.

@goalglobal: 14 years old looking like this? What are they feeding him at La Masia? 👀@brfootball: Bro is 14 with an eight-pack. Some of us are 24 with a dad bod. 😭

Nico chuckled, rubbing his forehead. "Man, they act like I built myself in a lab."

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A week had passed since that dominant win against Real Sociedad. In between, Espanyol had faced Elche and secured a solid 3-1 victory, with Nico once again influencing the game.

Now, it was March 8, 2015. Nico slowly blinked awake, his body feeling the effects of yesterday's grueling training session. Atlético Madrid away was never an easy fixture, and the coaching staff had made sure they were fully prepared for the intense physical battle awaiting them.

Lying in bed for a moment, he exhaled deeply before sitting up, rolling his shoulders. "Damn, I feel like I just fought a war yesterday," he muttered to himself, rubbing his sore muscles.

Nico went through his usual morning routine—washing up, stretching out the lingering soreness from training, and heading to the dining room. He picked up the carefully prepared breakfast from the nutritionist, taking a seat at the table with his grandparents.

As he ate, Danny smiled knowingly, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "I can't wait to finally meet Aitana today," she said, stirring her coffee.

Nico, mid-bite, blinked. "You're more excited than I am," he teased, though there was a small smile tugging at his lips.

Danny chuckled. "Of course, I am! She's the first girl you're bringing home. Johan and I need to see if she's good enough for our prince."

Johan, who had been silently reading the newspaper, finally spoke up with a smirk. "No pressure, Nico."

Nico groaned, rubbing his temple. "You guys are going to scare her away before we even sit down."

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Around 6:00 PM, Nico made his way to Aitana's house, dressed in a sleek black turtleneck, a tailored beige overcoat, and dark jeans. The evening air was crisp, but he barely noticed as he neared her doorstep, anticipation humming beneath his skin.

When she stepped outside, he couldn't help but pause for a moment. She was wearing a fitted cream sweater tucked into high-waisted black jeans, paired with a stylish long camel coat. Her hair was loosely curled, framing her face perfectly, and she had on a simple gold necklace that caught the last glimmer of daylight.

Nico smirked. "You know, if we keep matching like this, people are going to think we plan it."

Aitana rolled her eyes playfully. "Maybe we just have good taste." She then tilted her head. "Or maybe you're secretly copying me."

Nico scoffed, shaking his head. "Please, if anything, you're stealing my style."

She laughed, linking her arm with his. "Come on, let's go before your grandparents start thinking I stood you up."

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Nico led Aitana up the familiar stone path to his grandparents' villa, his grip on her hand firm but warm. As they reached the door, he took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

A moment later, the door swung open, revealing Danny Coster, her face lighting up the instant she saw them.

"Aitana, sweetheart! Finally, I get to meet the girl who's got my grandson smiling at his phone like an idiot all day." Danny teased, pulling Aitana into a warm embrace.

Aitana laughed, a little surprised but immediately at ease. "It's so nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Coster."

Danny pulled back, waving a hand. "Oh, please, none of that. Call me Danny, dear. Now come in, come in! Johan's been waiting too. He's very curious about the girl who stole Nico's heart."

Nico groaned. "Grandma, please—"

Danny just winked. "What? I'm just speaking the truth."

Aitana shot Nico a playful look before stepping inside. "Well, I'll try to live up to the expectations then."

Danny grinned. "Oh, darling, you already have."

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As they stepped inside, the warm ambiance of the villa embraced them. The faint scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, and framed football memorabilia adorned the walls, whispering stories of a legendary past.

Nico led Aitana further in, his hand still holding hers, until they reached the living room, where Johan Cruyff sat on the couch, reading a newspaper. He looked up as they entered, his sharp, wise eyes settling on Aitana with quiet curiosity.

Nico cleared his throat, a rare moment of nervousness flickering across his face. "Grandpa, this is Aitana." He turned to her with a small smile. "Aitana, this is Johan Cruyff."

Aitana felt her breath hitch slightly. She had grown up in La Masia, in the footballing world that this man had built. He wasn't just Nico's grandfather—he was a legend, the architect of the philosophy she played under every single day.

Still, she smiled and extended her hand. "It's an absolute honor to meet you, sir."

Johan set his newspaper down and took her hand, shaking it gently. "No need for 'sir.' Just Johan." His voice was warm, yet carried the authority of someone who had seen it all. "So, you're the one my grandson speaks so highly of."

Aitana glanced at Nico, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? He talks about me?"

Johan chuckled, his gaze flicking between the two of them. "More than he talks about his own matches sometimes."

Nico groaned. "Grandpa—"

Johan waved him off, now looking at Aitana with genuine interest. "Tell me, how does it feel dating this troublemaker?"

Aitana laughed, squeezing Nico's hand. "Surprisingly easy. He's actually a sweetheart."

Johan smirked. "That's what his grandmother always says. But don't let that fool you—he's got that Cruyff fire in him."

Aitana nodded. "Oh, I see it. On and off the pitch."

Danny reappeared from the kitchen, placing a tray of tea on the table. "Well, now that we've done the introductions, let's sit down. We have so much to talk about!"

Nico sighed, knowing very well that he wouldn't hear the end of this.

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As they sat around the table, sipping warm tea, Danny leaned in with a playful glint in her eyes, directing her question at Aitana.

"So, tell me, dear, how did you two first meet? Nico wouldn't tell me no matter how many times I asked!" She shot a mock glare at her grandson, who simply took another sip of his tea, pretending not to hear.

Aitana chuckled, glancing at Nico, who sighed dramatically. "You just had to ask, huh?"

Danny smirked. "Of course! What kind of grandmother would I be if I didn't get the full story?"

Aitana smiled as she placed her teacup down, glancing at Nico before turning back to Danny.

"Well, we actually met at La Masia when Nico was 13."

She turned back to Danny. "I saw him practicing that free kick—the 'Invisible Hand'—on one of the training pitches. The way the ball moved was unreal, like it was floating. I was so impressed that I walked up to him and told him it was the best free kick I had ever seen."

Danny's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "And then?"

Aitana shot a playful look at Nico. "Then I asked him if he could teach me how to do it."

Johan let out a laugh. "And let me guess, he said no?"

Aitana smiled as she continued, "Nico actually agreed to teach me that day. He showed me the technique, the way he struck the ball, how he controlled the spin... but no matter how many times I tried, I just couldn't get it right."

Danny chuckled. "Well, of course! It's not like you can master something like that in a day."

Aitana nodded. "Exactly! I was so frustrated, but then Nico just looked at me and said, 'I practice free kicks here every day. If you want, you can join me.'"

Johan leaned back, smirking. "Classic Nico."

Danny turned to Nico with a knowing smile. "So you found a way to keep her around, huh?"

Nico rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his grin. "I was just being nice."

Aitana nudged him playfully. "Sure, sure."

Johan laughed, shaking his head. "And look where we are now."

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Danny took a sip of her tea before turning to Aitana with a warm smile. "So, tell me about your family, querida. Nico never tells me anything!"

Aitana chuckled. "Well, I live with my parents, Rosa and Vicent. My mom's a teacher, and my dad's a taxi driver."

Danny nodded. "A teacher and a taxi driver? Hardworking people. No wonder you're such a good girl."

Aitana smiled. "They've always supported me. My mom was the one who encouraged me to play football, even when I was the only girl on the team. And my dad... well, he drives me everywhere for training and matches."

Johan grinned. "Sounds like they raised a fighter."

Aitana laughed. "They did their best."

Danny patted her hand gently. "Well, you're part of our family now, too. Any girl who can keep up with Nico is special."

Nico sighed. "Here we go..."

Aitana giggled, and Johan chuckled as Danny gave her grandson an affectionate look. "I'm just saying the truth, querido."

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Johan leaned forward, resting his hands on the table as he looked at Aitana with curiosity. "So, tell me, Aitana… what does football mean to you?"

Aitana straightened up slightly, sensing the weight behind the question. She knew she was speaking to Johan Cruyff—not just Nico's grandfather, but a footballing legend.

"Football is everything to me," she said, her voice steady. "It's the way I express myself. When I'm on the pitch, I feel free. I love the game, the movement, the creativity… I don't just want to play—I want to make a difference every time I step on the field."

Johan nodded approvingly, a small smile forming on his lips. "That's the right answer."

Nico smirked. "She's got that La Masia spirit, Grandpa."

Johan chuckled. "Of course she does. And what kind of player do you see yourself as, Aitana?"

Aitana thought for a moment. "I want to be the heartbeat of my team. The one who controls the game, who sees things before they happen. Someone who makes others better. A true midfielder."

Johan's eyes sparkled with admiration. "That's a beautiful way to see the game. Football needs players like you—ones who think, who create. Nico might be all about goals and flair, but you… you're the architect."

Nico scoffed playfully. "Hey, I assist too!"

Aitana giggled. "Yeah, yeah. You just prefer scoring screamers from 39 meters out."

Johan laughed. "Well, you two complement each other perfectly. A magician and a conductor."

Danny smiled warmly, watching the exchange. "I like her, Johan. She speaks about football the way you do."

Johan nodded in agreement. "She does. And that means she'll go far."

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After dinner, Nico leaned back in his chair, stretching slightly before glancing at Aitana. "Want a tour?" he asked with a small grin.

Aitana nodded eagerly, wiping her lips with a napkin. "Of course."

Danny and Johan exchanged amused glances as the two got up. "Don't get lost, kids," Danny teased, making Aitana chuckle.

Nico first led her to the living room, a space filled with history. The walls were decorated with framed jerseys—his grandfather's, his own, and even a few from other legends. Shelves displayed old footballs, trophies, and photographs capturing moments of footballing greatness.

Aitana's eyes wandered to a large framed picture. "This is from…?" she trailed off, pointing to a photo of Johan with young La Masia players.

"Yeah, that's my grandpa with one of his early academy groups," Nico said. "It's crazy how many of them became legends."

She smiled, brushing her fingers over a smaller frame that held a childhood picture of Nico. "You were adorable."

"Still am," Nico smirked, making her roll her eyes with a laugh.

They moved on to other parts of the house. The kitchen was sleek and modern, a contrast to the history-rich living room. Then came Nico's training space—a room filled with exercise equipment, a small goalpost, and a video setup for match analysis.

"You actually analyze your own matches here?" Aitana asked, impressed.

Nico nodded. "Yeah. My grandpa always tells me, 'Talent means nothing without understanding the game.'"

Aitana hummed in agreement before pointing at the treadmill. "Do you ever use this?"

Nico scoffed. "What do you think? I run more in matches than most players do in a week."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Fair enough."

Finally, he led her to his room. The walls had posters of legendary footballers—his grandfather, Messi, Iniesta, and others who inspired him. A bookshelf sat in the corner, packed with football autobiographies and tactical guides. His desk had a neatly placed PlayStation, with controllers resting beside it.

Aitana raised a brow, walking over to the desk. "FIFA addict?"

Nico smirked. "I destroy people on FIFA."

She crossed her arms. "We'll see about that."

He chuckled before suddenly pulling open a drawer and taking something out. "Oh, almost forgot—I have something for you."

Aitana tilted her head as Nico handed her a neatly wrapped box. She glanced at him curiously before opening it. Inside was a custom-made bracelet—silver with a small, elegant engraving on the inside that read "Invisible Hand" in delicate cursive.

Her eyes widened. "Nico… this is—"

"You were the first person to ever ask me to teach them that free kick," he said with a small smile. "Figured it deserved something special."

Aitana traced the engraving with her thumb, clearly touched. She carefully slid the bracelet onto her wrist before looking up at him. "Thank you."

Nico shrugged casually, but there was a small, pleased smile on his lips. "It suits you."

They stood there for a moment, the room quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside. Then, with a teasing glint in his eyes, Nico nudged her.

"Now, about that FIFA match…"

Aitana smirked. "Hope you're ready to lose."

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