First Half Fireworks

October 19th shimmered with autumn crispness as Luca bolted through his morning sprints—200m x 10, his rapid speed slicing the air.

Push-ups and squats followed, Power Surge sculpting muscles. No run today—game day called. He burst into the kitchen, snagging an apple from the counter.

Emily, flipping bacon, grinned. "Morning, whirlwind! Ready to dazzle?" Luca smirked, biting in. "Born ready, Mom." He lobbed a sock at Sophia's door—"Up, crypt keeper!"—and she shuffled out, hair a nest. "You're a human tornado with no off switch, ugh." Gianpiero, flipping a newspaper, chuckled. "Big opener, Luca. Family's watching—Chiara too."

Luca froze mid-chew. "Chiara?" Emily nodded, sly. "Met her at the market—sweet girl. Invited her to the stands with us."

Sophia cackled, "Oh, loverboy's doomed. Don't trip over your crush mid-game!" Luca tossed the apple core at her. "Least I don't trip over my own shadow, klutz."

The stadium buzzed as Inter U15s faced AC Milan U15s. In the stands, Emily waved Chiara over, who smiled shyly, dark hair catching the sun. "Thanks for having me!"

Sophia smirked, "Stick close—Luca's gonna need a cheerleader when he faceplants."

Gianpiero hushed her, "Let's see him shine."

The whistle blew, and the first half erupted. Milan struck first—Luca, his agility in full display, tore down the left. A Roulette spun past Inter's right back,showing his ball control, and a low cross found Matteo, who tapped in. 1-0, 12th minute.

Emily whooped, Chiara clapped, "He's fast!" Sophia yawned, "Yeah, like a caffeinated squirrel."

Inter bit back, their striker—a wiry kid with sharp eyes—drawing fouls. At the 25th minute, a direct free kick loomed. He curled it, ping , top corner—untouchable.

1-1. Luca eyed him—Identify flared:

74 Overall, a prodigy. Rival material, he thought, jaw tight.

Milan surged again. Luca's dribbling dazzled—Stepovers flicking past a midfielder, his speed eating the turf. A whipped cross met Paolo's head—2-1, 33rd minute.

Stands roared, Chiara beaming, "Another one!" Sophia snorted, "He's showing off for you—gross."

Then, chaos. Inter's prodigy danced through, Body Feint-like, forcing Nico into a panicked slide—own goal. 2-2, 42nd minute.

Luca cursed under his breath, glancing at the striker. He's trouble. Half-time hit, both teams breathless, fans buzzing.

[Task Update: Season of Glory]

Assists: 2 Points Earned: 2000 Total Points: 2800 → 4800

[Player Stats]

Overall Rating: 70 Potential: 85

Luca trudged off, simmering. Chiara's cheer echoed—he'd score for her yet.