That night didn't feel real.
Maybe because of the silence.
Maybe because of the way the lights flickered across the academy lounge.
Or maybe…
Because what they were watching felt like a different world.
The Screen
The room was dim.
Only one thing lit it up—
The television.
The sound of the crowd filled the space.
Roaring.
Alive.
Electric.
And there it was.
The biggest stage in football.
The Champions League.
Players walking onto the pitch.
Anthem rising.
Lights shining like stars.
Lamii sat forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on the screen.
He didn't blink.
Didn't speak.
Didn't move.
Because this—
This was it.
This was where everything led.
"Look at that…"
Papii's voice cut through softly.
But not with calm.
With excitement.
With hunger.
He leaned back on the couch, arms stretched behind his head, watching the players walk out.
"Different level."
Lamii nodded slightly.
"Yeah."
Enzo sat on the other side.
Quiet.
Observing.
Not just the players—
But how Lamii and Papii were reacting.
The music rose.
That iconic sound.
The one every player dreamed of hearing on the pitch.
Lamii felt something in his chest tighten.
Not fear.
Not nerves.
Something deeper.
Something heavier.
One day.
"That's where I'm going."
Papii said it casually.
Like it was already decided.
Lamii glanced at him.
Papii wasn't joking.
His eyes were serious.
Focused.
"I'm not staying here forever."
He leaned forward now.
Watching the screen like he belonged there already.
"I'll be out there."
He pointed.
"In that stadium."
A small pause.
"Champions League nights."
Lamii didn't smile.
Didn't laugh.
He just said quietly—
"Same."
Papii looked at him.
"Yeah?"
Lamii nodded.
"Since I was a kid."
His eyes stayed on the screen.
"I've imagined it."
The lights.
The noise.
The pressure.
The moment.
"Walking out with the badge…"
He paused.
"…Barcelona."
Papii smirked.
"Of course."
Lamii looked at him.
"What?"
Papii shrugged.
"You and your Barcelona."
Lamii's expression sharpened slightly.
"What's wrong with that?"
Papii leaned forward.
"Nothing."
A small grin.
"Just not the best."
Lamii raised an eyebrow.
"Not the best?"
Papii shook his head.
"Madrid."
Simple.
Confident.
Final.
"The biggest club."
Lamii sat up straighter.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
Papii laughed.
"Champions League history speaks."
Lamii didn't hesitate.
"Football speaks."
Silence.
Then—
Enzo chuckled.
"You two are already arguing about clubs…"
He leaned back.
"…and you haven't even played one professional match."
They both looked at him.
Enzo smirked slightly.
"You're thinking too small."
Papii frowned.
"Too small?"
Enzo nodded.
"I don't care about Barcelona or Madrid."
Lamii's eyes narrowed.
"What do you care about?"
Enzo looked back at the screen.
Players moving.
Game starting.
Then said calmly—
"Being better than all of them."
Silence.
Heavy.
Confident.
Different.
The match kicked off.
Fast.
Sharp.
Every touch precise.
Every movement intentional.
Lamii watched closely.
Not just the ball—
Everything.
Spacing.
Timing.
Control.
"How do they make it look so easy…" he whispered.
Papii leaned forward again.
Eyes locked.
"When I was a kid…"
He didn't look at them.
"I had posters all over my wall."
Lamii glanced at him.
"Of who?"
Papii smiled.
"You already know."
He tapped his chest.
"Cristiano."
That name carried weight.
Power.
Legacy.
"I used to stand in my room…"
He laughed slightly.
"…and imagine I was him."
Big stadium.
Final moments.
Crowd screaming.
"Last minute."
He made a small shooting motion.
"Goal."
He exhaled.
"That feeling…"
He shook his head.
"I'm going to live it."
Lamii listened carefully.
Then spoke.
"I didn't imagine scoring first."
Papii looked at him.
"What then?"
Lamii's eyes stayed on the screen.
"I imagined controlling everything."
The rhythm.
The game.
The space.
"Making the pass before anyone sees it."
He paused.
"Making the moment happen."
Enzo leaned forward slightly.
"You both dream differently."
They looked at him.
He pointed at the screen.
"That's why you're not there yet."
Silence.
Lamii frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Enzo's voice stayed calm.
"You dream about it."
A pause.
"They live it."
That hit.
On the screen—
A goal.
Perfect build-up.
Perfect finish.
Crowd exploded.
The stadium shook.
Lamii felt it in his chest.
Papii stood up slightly.
"Yes!"
Enzo just watched.
Analyzing.
Always analyzing.
Lamii closed his eyes for a second.
And suddenly—
He wasn't in the room anymore.
He was there.
On the pitch.
Under the lights.
Crowd screaming his name.
Ball at his feet.
Everything slowing down.
He moved.
Passed.
Created.
Controlled.
The perfect moment.
The perfect game.
"Lamii."
Papii's voice pulled him back.
"You're zoning out."
Lamii blinked.
"Just thinking."
Papii smirked.
"Dreaming already?"
Lamii didn't deny it.
"Yes."
Papii stepped closer.
"Good."
A grin.
"Because I'll be there too."
Lamii stood up.
"So will I."
Enzo looked between them.
Then stood as well.
"You're both wrong."
They turned.
Enzo's eyes were calm.
Cold.
Certain.
"If only one of us makes it…"
A pause.
"It's me."
The room went quiet.
Not uncomfortable.
But heavy.
Because now—
The dream had turned into competition.
Real.
Direct.
Unavoidable.
Papii extended his hand.
"Then let's see."
Lamii looked at it.
Then placed his hand over it.
"We'll see."
Enzo hesitated for a second.
Then placed his hand too.
Not smiling.
Not joking.
Serious.
Papii spoke first.
"End of the year."
Lamii nodded.
"We'll know."
Enzo finished it.
"Who belongs."
The match ended.
But none of them moved.
Because their game—
Was just beginning.
As the Champions League lights faded from the screen, one truth burned brighter than ever:
They weren't just watching the future anymore.
They were chasing it.
And by the end of the year—
Only one of them would stand under those lights