Back at home, Nico sat down at the kitchen table, where his grandparents were already having their evening tea. Danny looked up at him, her eyes soft with curiosity, while Johan, always the stoic one, gave him a measured look. Nico could feel the weight of their gaze, the silent question hanging in the air.
"Everything okay, Nico?" Danny asked, her voice warm, yet with an edge of concern. "How did the meeting go with Luis Enrique?"
Nico hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath, knowing they'd be the ones who would understand the most. He recounted the meeting in detail, starting with the conversation in Enrique's office and how the coach praised his talent. He described how Enrique had told him that while he was La Masia's crown jewel, Barcelona didn't currently need another attacking asset in their starting lineup. Instead, he'd be a substitute—"the first option after Messi, Neymar, and the rest."
As he spoke, Danny's expression softened, and Johan remained silent, absorbing every word.
"I expected that answer," Nico admitted quietly, pushing a strand of hair out of his face. "I knew Barcelona had their attack set with the big names. But I thought, maybe... maybe I could slot into the midfield? Replace Rakitic? I felt like I was good enough."
Danny sighed, her face etched with concern. "But that's not what they said."
"No," Nico replied, his voice steady but with a trace of frustration. "They told me I'd be a sub. Enrique said they'd give me minutes, but I'd be behind the others."
Johan finally spoke up, his tone calm but firm. "You don't have to settle for that, Nico. You know your worth. You've worked hard, and you've proven yourself."
Nico nodded, not needing to be reminded. He had always known where he stood in terms of talent. He continued, "I asked Enrique if I could go on loan for the next season. He hesitated, but then he told me to talk to my agents about it."
Danny reached across the table, placing a hand on Nico's. "You're right to ask. You deserve to be a starter, not just a backup. Don't let anyone make you feel less than what you are."
"I know," Nico said quietly. He sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "Jorge's right, though. If Barcelona doesn't want me starting after all this, then... maybe it's time to think about moving on. Loyalty only goes so far. And I've worked too hard to settle for anything less."
Johan gave him a rare smile, his eyes gleaming with pride. "You've got the right mindset. Always remember that your future is in your hands. No one can take that away from you."
Nico smiled back, feeling the weight of his grandparents' words settle in his chest. For the first time in a while, he felt a sense of clarity. Whatever came next, he'd face it head-on. No compromises.
"Thanks, both of you," he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude. "I needed that."
____________
Nico lay back on his bed, his thoughts swirling. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to shake off the heaviness of the day. Just as he was about to drift off, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. A smile tugged at his lips as he saw Aitana's name on the screen.
He answered with a quiet, "Hey, princesa."
"Hey, you," Aitana's voice was warm, filled with care. "You sound like you've had a long day. Everything okay?"
Nico let out a soft sigh, his mind still lingering on the conversation with Enrique. He sat up, propping himself up with his elbows. "It's been... a lot. Just some things on my mind."
Aitana, sensing the shift in his tone, asked gently, "Want to talk about it?"
He nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "Yeah. I'll tell you everything. But first... how's everything with you?"
Aitana's voice brightened immediately. "Busy, but good. You know, just focusing on my game. But you? What's got you so worked up?"
Nico ran a hand through his hair, the words from the day still lingering. "I talked to Enrique today. He gave me the rundown, and... I'm just processing it all."
There was a brief pause before Aitana spoke again, her voice full of empathy. "Nico, I know it's tough, but you're so much more than anyone gives you credit for. You've always been ahead of everyone else. You're one of the best talents, and no matter what they say, I believe in you."
A small smile crept onto his face as her words settled into his heart. "Thanks, Aitana. You always know how to make me feel better."
"You deserve to feel better," she said softly. "You've been through so much already, and you've still got so much more to give. You can do anything you set your mind to. And if a club doesn't see that, they're blind."
Nico's smile widened, the tension in his chest easing a little. "You're right. Maybe it's time to focus on the future, no matter what happens next season."
"That's the spirit," she replied. "Whatever happens, you'll get through it. You always do. And I'll be right here, cheering you on."
He took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm wash over him. "Thanks, Aitana. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"You'll never have to find out," she replied softly. "Now, get some rest. You deserve it."
"I will. Talk to you soon?"
"Always," she whispered.
Nico smiled as he lay back on the bed, feeling the warmth of Aitana's words still wrapping around him. He let the silence settle for a moment before he spoke again, his voice soft but steady.
"I love you," he said, the words carrying a sincerity that made his chest feel light.
Aitana's voice was tender, almost a whisper. "I love you too, Nico."
He held the phone for a moment longer, letting the connection linger, then gently cut the call. He sank back into his pillow, feeling a sense of calm wash over him. The day had been long, but hearing her voice had made it all a little easier to bear. As sleep began to pull him under, he felt a quiet certainty that whatever came next, he wouldn't face it alone.
___________
A week had passed since Nico's conversation with his grandparents, and today, he found himself sitting on the couch, casually flipping through TV channels. The hum of the television was a comforting background noise to his thoughts, which had been constantly churning over the last few days.
Suddenly, the sharp ring of the doorbell broke the silence. Nico stood up, stretching his arms before walking to the door. When he opened it, standing there was Jorge, looking as sharp as ever.
"Jorge," Nico greeted, stepping aside to let him in. "What's up?"
"Busy as ever, you know," Jorge replied with a grin, walking past Nico and making himself comfortable on the couch. "But I've got some news. Important news."
Nico raised an eyebrow, sitting down beside him. "I'm listening."
Jorge wasted no time, his tone shifting to a more serious one. "I've been in contact with a few clubs regarding the loan offers. It's time we figure out your next step."
Nico leaned back, his gaze steady. He wasn't surprised. He'd known this was coming. Barcelona had made it clear that they couldn't offer him the role he'd wanted, and his options now lay elsewhere. "So, what's on the table?"
Jorge paused, taking a deep breath. "Two clubs, in particular, are serious about you. One is from the Premier League — Arsenal. They want you to come in and be a key player right away. The other is in Serie A — AS Roma. They've been watching your performances, and they want you to be part of their long-term plans. They'll give you the minutes you deserve."
Nico let the words sink in. He hadn't expected the options to come so quickly, but now that they were here, it felt... right. He didn't want to sit around and wait for a chance that might never come.
"So, what do you think?" Jorge asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he waited for Nico's response.
_____________
After Jorge's question, Nico took a deep breath, his gaze steady. He didn't hesitate in his response. "I don't want to play in the Premier League, not yet. I'm just 14, and I'm not sure I can handle the physicality. It's a big step. The speed, the aggression—it's intense over there. I want to focus on my development and not rush into something I'm not fully ready for."
Jorge nodded, understanding the hesitation in Nico's voice. "Fair enough," he said, his tone calm but knowing. "It's smart to consider all angles."
Nico continued, his voice firm with conviction. "So, I'll go with AS Roma. They've made it clear they want me, and I think it's the right environment to keep growing. I want to take this step, play in a competitive league, but in a place where I can develop at my own pace."
Jorge smiled, impressed by Nico's maturity. "I'll get the ball rolling with Roma then. They'll be thrilled to hear you've made your decision. This is a good move, Nico. You'll get the minutes, and you'll have the space to grow into your full potential."
Nico nodded, a sense of resolve settling over him. He had made his choice. Now, it was time to look forward. Roma felt like the right fit, and he was ready for the challenge.
______________
A few days later, as Nico was going through his usual routine, his phone rang. It was Jorge.
"Hey, Nico, I've got good news," Jorge's voice came through the line, a hint of excitement in it. "The loan deal to AS Roma is finalized. You're set to go. You'll need to report to them on June 27th."
Nico leaned back, a mix of relief and anticipation settling in. He had made the right choice. "That's great, Jorge. Thanks for sorting everything out."
Jorge chuckled. "Of course, it's all taken care of. Get ready, Nico. You're heading to Serie A. It's going to be a new chapter for you."
Nico smiled, feeling the weight of the moment. "I'm ready. I'll make the most of it."
"Good. Keep your head straight, and don't forget — this is your chance to shine. No more waiting around," Jorge said, his tone firm and encouraging.
Nico took a deep breath, excitement bubbling within him. "Thanks, Jorge. I won't let you down."
After the call ended, Nico sat back in his chair for a moment. June 27th. He was about to embark on a new journey, one that would test him, push him, and ultimately shape his future. And for the first time in a while, he felt like he was ready.
____________
Later that night, after a quiet evening, Nico found himself reaching for his phone. His thumb hovered over Aitana's contact before pressing the call button. He let it ring a few times, his mind racing with what he would tell her.
When Aitana picked up, her familiar voice brought a smile to his face. "Hey, you. What's up?"
Nico leaned back, the cool night air through the window brushing against his skin. "Hey, princesa. How's it going?"
"Good, good. Just winding down. What about you?" Aitana's voice had a soft tone, one that always made Nico feel at ease.
"Same. Just chilling, you know. Thought I'd call you. Want to go out tomorrow? We could just walk around Las Ramblas, like usual. Nothing special," he said, trying to keep it casual, though there was something unspoken in his voice.
"Of course! I'd love that. It's been a while since we just walked around, huh? Sounds perfect." Aitana's excitement was clear, but she could sense a little something off in his tone.
Nico chuckled softly, trying to mask the feeling gnawing at him. "Yeah, just a normal day out. Nothing else to do."
"Alright then," she said, her voice warm, "I'll see you tomorrow. Can't wait."
"I'll be there," Nico replied, his tone softer now.
As the call ended, he couldn't help but think about how much he'd miss their quiet walks together, the simplicity of it all. But soon, things would change. He'd have to share the news with her—one step at a time.
_____________
The next day, Nico woke up and moved through his usual routine, the comfort of familiarity surrounding him. He slipped into his morning rhythm—shower, quick stretch, and getting dressed. Afterward, he made his way to the dining table, where his grandparents were already sitting, exchanging quiet words over their coffee.
He took a seat, greeted them, and began having breakfast with Johan and Danny. The chatter was light, the conversation flowing easily between bites of toast and sips of juice. Despite the big move ahead, everything felt grounded in this small, daily moment.
Back in his room, Nico took his time getting ready. He slipped on a white turtleneck, the soft fabric hugging his frame, then layered it with a black leather jacket. His denim jeans completed the look, and the small Barcelona logo necklace nestled against his chest—something simple but meaningful. Once he was dressed, he stepped out of his room, his thoughts focused on the day ahead.
He walked to Aitana's house, the familiar rhythm of his footsteps echoing in the quiet morning air. Reaching her door, he rang the bell and waited. Moments later, the door creaked open, and there she was—Aitana, dressed in a look strikingly similar to his, as if they were unconsciously matching. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
She stepped out, closing the door behind her softly. Without a word, their hands found each other, fingers interlocking, and together they set off down the street, moving as one, the world around them feeling just a little bit brighter.
__________