Chapter 29 : Ysl's shoot....

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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After playing a few intense FIFA matches—where Aitana actually managed to beat him once, much to her delight—Nico leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms.

"Alright, I'll admit it. You're not bad," he said with a smirk.

Aitana raised an eyebrow. "Not bad? I literally won a game against you."

Nico scoffed. "One game. Out of five."

She rolled her eyes, but the playful smile on her lips remained. As the competitive energy settled, Nico glanced at her and casually asked, "Wanna see my room?"

Aitana gave him a knowing look. "Trying to show off your Ballon d'Or shrine?"

Nico snorted. "Not yet. That's for the future."

She laughed and stood up, following him up the stairs.

Nico's room had an air of quiet sophistication, a space that perfectly balanced the chaos of a young football prodigy and the discipline ingrained in him from years of training. The walls were a mix of dark blue and black, creating a sleek yet calming atmosphere. A subtle LED strip ran along the ceiling's edges, casting a soft glow that made the room feel both modern and personal.

One wall stood as a shrine to his achievements at La Masia. It was covered with neatly arranged medals and trophies—there were so many that they almost blended into one another. In the very center of the wall, surrounded by silverware, hung a scarf with bold white lettering: "La Masia's Prince."

Aitana's eyes lingered on it as she pointed. "That's… dramatic."

Nico chuckled, walking over to touch the fabric lightly. "One of my coaches gave it to me after a youth tournament. He said I was born to lead La Masia."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you kept it?"

Nico smirked. "Of course. Gotta live up to the name, right?"

To the right of the trophy wall was another filled with photo frames—easily 50 or 60 of them, capturing different moments of his life. There were pictures of him with his La Masia teammates, both in training and celebrating victories. A few shots stood out—one of him grinning with his arms around his grandparents, another of him and Aitana at La Masia, smiling after practice, and even one where she was trying (and failing) to take a proper free kick.

Aitana walked closer, her fingers grazing the edge of one of the frames. "You have a lot of memories here."

Nico nodded. "They remind me where I come from."

On the opposite side of the room was his desk, sleek and organized. A high-end gaming computer sat on it, its LED-lit keyboard glowing faintly. Next to it, a notebook filled with match analysis and training notes rested beside a few books—some football-related, some just random reads. A leather chair was tucked neatly underneath.

Aitana turned to him, arms crossed. "So, where's the mess? The piles of clothes? The socks on the floor?"

Nico scoffed. "You underestimate my discipline."

She smirked, playfully nudging his arm. "Or maybe you just cleaned up because you knew I was coming."

Nico rolled his eyes. "Believe what you want."

She laughed and took one last look around before settling her gaze on him. "Your room suits you."

Nico tilted his head. "How so?"

Aitana shrugged. "It's neat, but there's so much history packed into it. It's like... every inch of this place says something about you."

Nico smiled at that, leaning against his desk. "Well, I guess that means you know me pretty well."

She gave him a knowing look. "I do."

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After chatting for a few more minutes, Aitana glanced at the time and sighed. "It's getting late. I should probably head home."

Danny smiled warmly. "It was lovely having you here, dear. Come by anytime."

Johan nodded in agreement. "Yes, next time, we'll talk more about football."

Aitana grinned. "I'd love that."

As she stood up, Nico stretched his arms and casually said, "I'll walk you back."

His grandparents exchanged a knowing glance but said nothing, simply watching as the two of them headed toward the door.

Danny called out playfully, "Take care of our boy, Aitana!"

Aitana smirked, glancing back. "I think it's the other way around."

Nico rolled his eyes with a chuckle, opening the door. They stepped out into the cool Barcelona night, the streetlights casting a soft golden hue over the quiet streets.

And just like that, they walked together, side by side, into the night.

As they walked through the quiet streets, Nico glanced at her with a small smirk. "So… how was it? Meeting my grandparents?"

Aitana smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Honestly? It was surreal. Your grandma is so sweet, and your grandpa… well, he's Johan Cruyff." She let out a small laugh. "I still can't believe I just had dinner with him."

Nico chuckled. "Yeah, he's got that effect on people." Then he nudged her playfully. "But don't let him fool you—he already knew about you since last year. He just pretended to be all curious tonight."

Aitana's eyes widened. "Wait, what?!"

Nico smirked. "You think I never mentioned you? The day we met, I went home and told them about this girl who wanted me to teach her free kicks."

Aitana scoffed, shaking her head. "And here I thought I made a mysterious first impression."

Nico grinned. "Nah, you were unforgettable from the start."

She rolled her eyes, but a small blush crept onto her cheeks.

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As they reached her doorstep, Aitana hesitated for a second before turning to Nico, her brown eyes shining with warmth.

"Do you… want to meet my parents tomorrow?" she asked, tucking her hands into her coat pockets.

Nico raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Tomorrow?"

She chuckled. "Yeah. You introduced me to your grandparents today, so it's only fair you meet my parents next."

Nico smirked. "So this is your way of balancing things out?"

Aitana laughed, nudging his shoulder. "Exactly. Plus, they've been curious about you for a while now."

Nico exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright then, tomorrow it is."

Aitana grinned. "Good. And don't worry, they're not scary."

"That's what people always say before introducing someone terrifying." Nico teased, making her laugh.

She shook her head. "Just be yourself. They'll like you."

Nico smiled. "I hope so."

Aitana stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him into a warm hug. Before letting go, she leaned up and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. It was brief, but enough to make his heart race.

"Goodnight, Nico," she whispered against his lips before stepping back with a teasing smile.

Nico grinned, feeling his face warm up. "Goodnight, Aitana."

She gave him one last look before heading inside, leaving Nico standing there for a moment, shaking his head with a smirk before making his way home.

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The next day, Nico woke up and went through his usual routine—washing up, stretching a bit, and heading to the dining room to eat breakfast. He grabbed the meal prepared by the nutritionist and sat down with his grandparents. Danny was chatting about something, but Nico's mind was elsewhere, thinking about the match against Atlético Madrid in a few days and the fact that he was meeting Aitana's parents later today. 

After finishing his meal, he went to the living room, plopped down on the couch, and turned on the TV. He flipped through channels lazily, half-watching some random morning sports analysis when the sound of the doorbell rang through the house. 

Curious, he got up and made his way to the door. When he opened it, he found Jorge Mendes standing there, dressed sharply as always, a small smirk playing on his lips. 

"Jorge?" Nico raised an eyebrow. "Did I forget a meeting or something?" 

Jorge chuckled. "No, no. Just figured I'd drop by. Got a few things to discuss." 

Nico stepped aside, letting him in. "Come in, then." 

They moved to the living room, where Jorge took a seat on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. Nico sat down beside him, leaning back comfortably. 

"So," Nico said, looking at him. "What's up?"

Jorge leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "First things first, the date for your YSL shoot is set."

Nico raised an eyebrow. "Already?"

Jorge nodded. "Yeah, it's locked in. It'll be the day after your match against Atlético Madrid."

Nico exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Well, at least I won't have to worry about it before the game."

"Exactly," Jorge said. "Focus on Atlético first, then we'll handle the shoot. It's a big deal, Nico—YSL is putting a lot behind this campaign. They want to market you as the face of a new generation."

Nico smirked. "I guess I better score a couple against Atlético, then. Can't have their golden boy showing up looking like he lost the match before a photoshoot."

Jorge chuckled. "Now that's the spirit. Just be ready—YSL is going all out with this one. It won't be a quick in-and-out shoot. Expect a full day of work."

Nico leaned back against the couch, nodding. "Got it. Anything else?"

Jorge shook his head with a small smile. "Nothing else. Do your thing, kid."

Nico smirked, stretching his arms. "Good. I was planning on it anyway."

Jorge chuckled, getting up from the couch. "I'll see you after the game, then. Don't make it too hard for Atlético."

Nico stood up, walking him to the door. "No promises."

As Jorge stepped out, Nico shut the door behind him, rolling his shoulders. A big game, then a big shoot—just another week in his life.

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Author's note : Vote if you like what you're reading , he will play with barcelona in the upcoming chapters . It'll be crazy , Do comment about things you dont like , so i can fix it in the upcoming chapters