Chapter 40 : Interview(2)(bonus for power stones)

Nico's voice was steady as he spoke, a quiet confidence in his words. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his hands folding neatly in his lap. 

"It's something I've developed since I was at La Masia," Nico began, a small, thoughtful smile playing on his lips. "I really have to thank La Masia for the way I play today. It's not just about the coaches teaching me, it's also because they trusted me." 

He paused for a moment, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of his words.

"They never told me not to hold onto the ball too long, or to avoid taking risks. In fact, they encouraged me to do the opposite. I had the freedom to play the way I wanted. And that's huge. In many places, kids are told not to hold onto the ball, not to take risks, not to dribble too much. But for me, that's always been part of the game—taking risks, playing with flair, and believing that even when you try something crazy, you can make it work. 

"If I'd been told to play differently, to be more cautious... I don't think I'd be here. I don't think I'd have developed my style the way I have. The freedom I had at La Masia, that trust they placed in me, allowed me to grow into the player I am now." 

His gaze softened, a distant look in his eyes as he thought about the years he spent there—the hours of training, the mentors who believed in him. 

"I don't believe in stifling creativity or limiting a player's potential. Football's about expression, about taking those risks when others might hesitate. I owe a lot of that to the environment I had at La Masia. It shaped me."

Thierry nodded, clearly impressed, as if processing Nico's words with the weight they deserved. 

"You can see that freedom in your play," he said, his voice admiring. "It's like you're not just playing football, you're expressing yourself, telling a story with every dribble and pass."

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Thierry leaned forward slightly, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Now, Nico, we have to talk about something that's been making waves off the pitch—your partnership with YSL. You're their ambassador at just 14. That's a huge deal. How did it come about? And what's it like to represent such a prestigious brand at your age?"

Nico shifted a little in his seat, the familiar spark of excitement lighting up his eyes as he thought about the opportunity. 

"Yeah, it's... still surreal, to be honest," Nico said, a soft chuckle escaping him. "I remember when I first heard they were interested, I thought it was a joke. But then I realized it was real. It was a huge honor. YSL's not just any brand, it's iconic. And to be their ambassador, especially at my age, it feels like a bit of a dream, to be honest." 

He paused, considering the magnitude of it all. "I think it's a mix of football and style that clicked for me with YSL. Football is all about expression, and fashion is the same. I've always liked how clothes can show who you are without saying a word, and YSL—well, it's all about boldness, elegance, and confidence, which, in a way, mirrors what I try to bring to the field. I've always thought of myself as someone who isn't afraid to take risks, and I guess that's why this partnership feels so right. They trust me to represent them, just like my coaches and teammates trust me on the pitch."

He smiled, his eyes softening as he added, "It's not just about the fashion though. It's about what the brand stands for—pushing boundaries, being fearless, and embracing authenticity. That's something I try to do every day. On the field, and off it."

Thierry's smile deepened as he nodded, clearly impressed. "It's inspiring, Nico. You're not just making an impact in football, but in the world of fashion as well. You're setting the bar high for the future, both on and off the pitch."

Nico gave a modest shrug. "I'm just being me. And I guess it's working."

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Thierry leaned back in his chair with a grin, clearly enjoying the moment. "Alright, now onto something a little more personal. You and Aitana Bonmatí, huh? Everyone's been talking about it. You've confirmed that you're together—how does that feel, having it all out in the open?"

Nico let out a small, almost shy smile but didn't shy away from the question. "Yeah, it's true. Aitana and I—well, we've been close for a while now. Both of us grew up at La Masia, so we understand each other in ways that are hard to explain. It just felt right, and it's great to have someone like her by my side, especially with everything that comes with football. It can be a lot, but she gets it."

Thierry raised an eyebrow, his grin growing. "Must be interesting, both of you being so young and already doing so much. Do you get a lot of attention because of it?"

Nico shrugged lightly, his smile a little more confident now. "Yeah, it's weird sometimes, but we're used to it. It's not about the attention, though. Aitana and I, we keep it simple. We just focus on what we love—football, being there for each other. I think we both know what's important, so we don't let all that other stuff get in the way."

Thierry chuckled, clearly enjoying the honesty. "Sounds like a pretty solid connection. I can see why people are taking notice!"

Nico just nodded, a quiet pride in his voice. "It's nice having someone who understands, you know?"

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Thierry Henry leaned forward, his eyes glinting with curiosity as he asked the final question. "Alright, Nico, here's a big one for you. After this incredible season at Espanyol, you'll be heading back to Barcelona. So, what's next? Will you be playing for Barcelona next season, or are we looking at another loan spell, or maybe something else entirely?"

Nico took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he leaned back in his chair. "Honestly, I don't know. It's been a crazy few months, and I'm just focused on playing well right now, finishing strong with Espanyol. But, yeah, I'll be back at Barcelona after this loan ends, and what happens after that? I don't have an answer yet."

He paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Barcelona's attack is stacked with incredible players—Messi, Neymar, and all the other stars—so, yeah, I don't know if the coach is going to have room for me. I don't want to be a bench player. I want to be on the field, making an impact. So, we'll see. A lot can happen."

Thierry nodded, understanding the weight of Nico's words. "It's a big decision. You've got all the talent in the world, so I'm sure whatever happens, you'll make it work. Best of luck, Nico. You're doing something special here."

Nico smiled, nodding back. "Thanks, Thierry. I appreciate that."

After the interview wrapped up, Nico stood up, shaking Thierry Henry's hand. "Thank you, Thierry. It's been an honor," he said, his voice filled with appreciation. Thierry smiled back, his demeanor warm yet professional.

"No problem, Nico. You've got a bright future ahead. Keep doing what you're doing," Thierry replied, giving him a nod of approval.

With a final glance at the set, Nico made his way to the exit. The staff waved him off as he stepped into the car that was waiting for him outside. As the car doors closed and he settled into the backseat, Nico exhaled, the tension from the interview slowly melting away. The drive home felt smooth, quiet—just a moment to let everything sink in.

The city passed by outside the window, the buzz of life continuing as he headed back to his own. A lot was on his mind, but for now, he could rest, knowing that a chapter was complete and a new one was waiting to unfold.

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The night before the final league game against Eibar, Nico was lying in his bed, the weight of the season behind him. Espanyol had already secured their spot in the Champions League for the next season, and with the pressure off, there was a sense of calm in the air. It had been a season of hard work, but now it was more about finishing strong, for the fans, for the team—and for the pride of the game itself.

His phone buzzed, and he smiled as he saw Aitana's name flash across the screen. He picked it up, his voice easy and light.

"Hey, princesa," he greeted her, settling back into the pillows.

"Hey, you," Aitana replied, her voice warm and relaxed. "I heard the good news—Champions League spot secured. You must be feeling pretty good."

Nico grinned, propping himself up on one elbow. "Yeah, it feels great. Honestly, it's a nice feeling knowing tomorrow's game is a bit of a no-pressure match. We've already done the hard work."

Aitana laughed softly. "Well, it's still a game, right? You've got to finish strong."

"Of course," Nico agreed, "But no stress about it. Just going to have fun out there."

"I'm sure you will," she teased. "Just don't let your teammates get too wild in the celebrations. We don't need another 'Prince Nico' moment."

He chuckled, remembering his grand celebration from a few weeks back. "I'll keep it low-key, promise. No running across the field this time."

"I'll hold you to that," Aitana said with a grin in her voice. "But seriously, enjoy the game. It's the last one before you get a little break, right?"

"Yeah, exactly," Nico replied. "I'm looking forward to the downtime. But for now, just focusing on tomorrow. I've got the Champions League to look forward to, after all."

"Yeah, you do," Aitana said. "You've earned it. Just... take care of yourself out there, okay?"

"I will," Nico said, his voice softening. "I promise. Thanks for always being there for me, Aitana."

"Always," she responded. "Alright, get some rest. I'll be thinking about you tomorrow."

He smiled, his heart lighter. "Good night, princesa. Love you."

"I love you too," she whispered before the call ended.

Nico set the phone down and lay back in bed, a sense of contentment washing over him. The pressure was off, and with Aitana's support, everything felt easy, like the calm before a well-earned victory.

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May 24, 2015 – Espanyol vs. Eibar (La Liga, RCDE Stadium)

The final matchday of the 2014–15 La Liga season had arrived. The sun hung low in the Catalan sky, casting a golden glow over RCDE Stadium, where thousands of Espanyol fans had gathered, their hearts pounding with anticipation. The season had been a rollercoaster, filled with thrilling victories, crushing defeats, and moments of sheer brilliance. Now, it all came down to this—the last match before the curtain closed on an unforgettable campaign.

As the Espanyol team bus turned onto the road leading to the stadium, the noise outside was deafening. Fans lined the streets, waving blue and white scarves, their voices hoarse from singing. The rhythmic pounding of drums mixed with the crackling of flares as chants of "Espanyol! Espanyol!" echoed through the air. Some supporters climbed onto fences, desperate for a glimpse of their heroes, while others banged on the bus windows, urging the players on.

Inside the bus, the mood was calm but focused. Nico Cruyff sat by the window, his headphones on, drowning out the chaos outside. His emerald-green eyes were locked on the horizon, his mind already inside the game. He had carried Espanyol through countless battles this season, delivering in the biggest moments. Tonight, they expected one last masterpiece.

As the bus rolled to a stop at the stadium entrance, security quickly moved in to keep the crowds at bay. One by one, the players stepped off, met with a fresh wave of cheers. Sergio García, Felipe Caicedo, Lucas Vázquez, and Kiko Casilla all acknowledged the fans with nods and waves. Then came Nico. The noise exploded. The cameras flashed.

He adjusted the small Barcelona pendant hanging from his necklace—a reminder of where he came from—before stepping through the players' entrance, disappearing into the stadium's tunnel.

Inside the RCDE Stadium, the atmosphere was electric. The stands were already filling up, a sea of blue and white flags rippling in the late evening breeze. The Espanyol ultras behind the goal banged their drums, setting the rhythm for what would soon become a night of footballing drama.

On the other side, the Eibar players were already warming up, aware of the storm they were about to walk into. Though Eibar had little left to play for, they weren't here to roll over. Pride was on the line.

In the Espanyol dressing room, the players settled in, lacing up their boots, pulling on their shirts. Nico sat at his locker, tying the laces on his pristine white Adidas boots. His mind was clear. One last match. One last chance to leave a mark.

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