As the sun began its slow descent, casting a golden hue across the beach, Nico and Aitana decided it was time to wind up their impromptu game. The laughter from the volleyball match still lingered in the air, but as the clock edged closer to 5 PM, they knew it was time to head back. They collected their things and walked along the shore, the sand still warm beneath their feet.
The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was peaceful, but there was a sense of contentment in the air, the kind that came from simple days spent together. As they reached the end of the beach path, Nico looked over at Aitana, her hand still in his, and noticed how her smile seemed to glow brighter than the setting sun.
"You had fun today?" Nico asked, his voice light but sincere.
Aitana squeezed his hand, a playful glint in her eyes. "Are you kidding? I'm pretty sure I just played my best game of beach volleyball."
"Best game, huh? I thought I was the one carrying you," Nico teased, but there was no malice in his tone. It was just the usual playful banter.
She shot him a mock glare. "Oh please. You might have been MVP of that little match, but I was just pacing myself for the real challenge."
Nico raised an eyebrow. "And what challenge is that?"
Aitana grinned, as if she'd been waiting for this moment all along. "I'm going to make you carry me."
He blinked in surprise. "Again?" He could already see the twinkle of mischief in her eyes, and the way she was trying to keep a straight face only made it more obvious. "Aitana, you do this every single time we go out."
She shrugged casually, her lips curling into that smile that always made his heart skip a beat. "Well, if you're going to keep showing off those muscles, I should get to enjoy them, shouldn't I?"
Nico chuckled, shaking his head in mock defeat. "You're relentless, you know that?"
"I know," she replied sweetly. "So, what's it gonna be?"
Without much more to say, Nico crouched down and, with a grin, offered her a piggyback. Aitana eagerly climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he stood up with ease, carrying her as though it was nothing.
"Honestly, you're lucky I'm this strong," Nico joked, glancing over his shoulder to see her teasingly resting her chin on his shoulder.
"Lucky? I think it's more like you're just used to it by now," Aitana shot back.
Nico laughed softly, adjusting his grip as he began walking. "True, but I might need a break soon. You know, you're getting heavier every time."
"Are you sure you want to joke about that?" she warned playfully, her fingers tapping lightly against his shoulder. "I can always jump off, you know."
He gave her a wink. "I'm good with it, princesa. I'll carry you anywhere."
They continued walking through the quiet streets of Barcelona, the sky now a deep blue and the city slowly coming to life with the evening buzz. Even after a fun-filled day, there was something comforting in their silence, in the simple act of being together.
As they neared her house, Nico could feel a peaceful contentment settling over him, the kind that made the outside world seem a little less important. It was just him, Aitana, and a day that had been perfect in its simplicity.
When they reached her front door, he gently lowered her down, and without a word, she hugged him tightly. Nico returned the embrace, holding her a little longer than usual, before she pulled away, looking up at him with a soft smile.
"Thanks for today," she said, her voice quiet but sincere.
Nico smiled, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks. "Anytime. You know that."
Before she could say anything else, Nico leaned down, brushing a strand of hair from her face, and placed a long, tender kiss on her lips. It was a kiss that spoke of everything he couldn't say with words—the love, the gratitude, the connection they shared. She kissed him back, her hands gently resting on his chest.
When they finally pulled away, Nico's forehead rested against hers, both of them breathing a little more slowly.
"I love you," he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity.
Aitana's eyes softened, and she smiled. "I love you too."
They lingered there for a moment, just holding each other, before she stepped back and waved him off. Nico watched her disappear inside, a small smile tugging at his lips, before he turned to head back home, the night feeling just a little more perfect than it had before.
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A week passed in a blur of quiet moments and simple joys. Nico spent his days with his grandmother, Danny Coster, shopping for new clothes. She picked out pieces that balanced sophistication and effortless style, and they laughed together as they wandered through boutiques.
In between shopping trips, Nico sat with his grandfather, Johan, watching Barcelona's 2014-15 UEFA Champions League win. Although Nico wasn't on the field, the pride he felt was undeniable. Johan's knowing smile said it all—they both cheered together, feeling the weight of the legacy.
The rest of the week was spent at a slower pace. Nico focused on rest, knowing the importance of recovery, but also kept up with his fitness. He trained diligently, preparing for whatever came next—whether it was returning to Barcelona or staying with Espanyol.
This week was about grounding himself. It was a time for reflection and rest. With his family by his side, Nico knew that whatever the future held, they would help him navigate each step forward.
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On the morning of June 13th, Nico woke up, his mind already racing with thoughts of what the day might bring. He went through his usual routine, the one that had become second nature to him—stretching, a quick jog, and a light breakfast prepared by his nutritionist. The calm before what could be a pivotal moment in his career.
After finishing his meal, he booked a cab and headed out. The drive through Barcelona was calm, the city still holding onto the morning mist. His destination was the Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper, Barcelona's training grounds, a place that had shaped so many legends, and perhaps, a place where his own story would continue to unfold.
As the cab pulled up to the gates, Nico's heart skipped a beat. He was about to meet Luis Enrique, the man who had played a significant part in the club's recent success and who might hold the key to his future at Barcelona.
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Nico approached the door to Luis Enrique's office, his footsteps steady but his heart racing with anticipation. He knocked lightly, hearing the familiar voice on the other side. "Come in."
With a deep breath, Nico pushed open the door and stepped inside. Luis Enrique was sitting at his desk, sorting through papers, but his face broke into a warm smile as he looked up.
"Ah, Nico," Luis Enrique greeted him, gesturing to the seat across from him. "Take a seat."
Nico nodded and walked over to the chair, sitting down with a calm that didn't quite match the excitement brewing inside. He gave a quick but respectful nod, a sign of his gratitude for the opportunity to meet.
"Thanks for taking the time to see me, coach," Nico said, his voice steady.
Luis Enrique waved it off, leaning back in his chair. "Of course, Nico. Always happy to have a chat. How's everything been since your time at Espanyol?"
Nico leaned back in his chair slightly, his eyes glancing out the window for a moment before returning to Luis Enrique. "I've been winding off, actually," he said with a small smile. "Spent a lot of time with my grandparents—Danny, especially. Haven't had much time to just hang out with them in a while, you know?"
He paused, his expression softening as he thought about his grandparents. "It's been good to just relax, take a step back and enjoy those quiet moments with them."
Luis Enrique nodded, understanding the importance of family. "That sounds like a much-needed break. Especially with all that's happened this season."
Nico smiled, a brief flash of pride in his eyes. "Yeah, a lot has happened, but it's nice to just be present with the people who've always had my back."
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Nico sat quietly, processing the words Luis Enrique had just said. He had expected something like this, but hearing it from the coach himself still stung. He knew Barcelona had a stacked attack and didn't need another attacking option in the starting eleven. Still, he had genuinely believed he was good enough to replace Rakitic, to slot into the midfield alongside the likes of Messi, Neymar, and Suarez. It was a blow to his confidence, but he didn't show it.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself before speaking again. "Is it possible... can I go on loan for next season?" His voice remained calm, though there was an underlying urgency in his words. He knew he needed regular minutes, and if he wasn't going to get them at Barcelona, he needed to explore other options.
Luis Enrique sat back, his eyes thoughtful as he considered the question. Nico couldn't help but notice the hesitation in his eyes.
"I know you're ready for any top team in the world, Nico," Enrique thought to himself, "But bringing you into the starting XI... It would make our already uneven attack and defense even more unbalanced."
He let the thought settle for a moment, then spoke aloud, his tone soft but firm. "I understand your desire to play, Nico. You're a special talent, no doubt about it. But the way our squad is set up, bringing you in would affect the balance of the team in ways we can't afford right now."
Nico absorbed the words, not surprised but still disappointed. He understood the coach's perspective.
After a pause, Enrique continued, his voice softening. "You should talk to your agents, see what offers are out there. If you need to go on loan to develop further, I'll support it. Just know that I believe in your potential, and whether you stay or go, I'll make sure you're given the opportunities you deserve."
Nico nodded quietly, grateful for the honesty. "Thanks, coach. I'll talk to them."
With that, he stood up, giving Enrique a respectful nod before leaving the office. The uncertainty of his next move lingered in the air, but he knew one thing for sure—whatever came next, he was ready.
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As Nico settled into the back of the taxi, the weight of the conversation with Luis Enrique still hung heavy in the air. He pulled out his phone, scrolling until he found Jorge's name and hit dial. It only took a few rings before his agent picked up.
"Jorge," Nico started, his voice steady, "I spoke with Enrique."
There was a brief pause, followed by a sharp intake of breath from the other end. "And? What did he say?"
Nico recounted the conversation, explaining that Enrique had praised his abilities but ultimately said he wasn't needed in the starting lineup, offering him a spot on the bench instead. When he mentioned the loan request, Luis Enrique had hesitated but eventually agreed to discuss it with his agents.
The silence on the other end was almost deafening before Jorge's voice broke through, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. "What the hell? He said what? That you're not needed? After everything you've done, and he says that?" His voice was filled with frustration. "I told you this would happen. The kid's a prodigy, and they have no idea what to do with you. It's absolute nonsense, Nico."
Nico winced slightly at the fury in Jorge's tone, but he didn't let it show. "I understand why, Jorge. They have Messi, Neymar, Suarez... I know it's a tough spot for anyone to come in. And I wasn't expecting to start right away, but I did think I'd get a fair shot in the midfield. But Enrique thinks it would disrupt the balance."
Jorge muttered something under his breath before speaking again, his voice calmer but still tinged with anger. "You're better than Rakitic right now. Hell, you're better than some of their starters, and they want to bench you?" There was a heavy sigh. "But listen, that's not the issue. What matters now is that we get you the minutes you deserve. I'll handle the rest. I'll get you offers. You need to play regularly, Nico. That's the priority."
Nico nodded, even though Jorge couldn't see him. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking too. I need minutes. I need to keep developing."
"Exactly. Let's get this done." Jorge's voice hardened with resolve. "We'll make sure you get to the right place. No more wasting time on the bench."
Nico smiled slightly, feeling the comfort of Jorge's determination. "Thanks, Jorge. I'll trust you with it."
"You better," Jorge said, and Nico could almost hear the smile in his voice. "Now, get your ass back on the pitch soon. You've got more than enough talent to make this work."
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Jorge's tone shifted, the warmth and encouragement from earlier replaced by a cold, serious edge. Nico leaned back in the seat, sensing the change in his agent's voice.
"Listen, Nico," Jorge began, his voice firm, "if after this loan spell, Barcelona still refuses to give you a starting position, I'm going to strongly suggest you leave." He paused, letting the words sink in. Nico's chest tightened, but he remained silent, listening intently.
Jorge continued, his voice unwavering. "If they keep you on the bench after all the progress you've made, it means they're taking you for granted. They'll think you won't leave because you're loyal. But let me tell you this, Nico—loyalty goes both ways. Always remember this."
Nico's grip on the phone tightened, the weight of Jorge's words settling heavily in his mind. It wasn't just about football anymore; it was about respect, about his worth. For the first time, a cold realization started to creep into his chest.
"You understand?" Jorge asked, voice softer but still resolute.
Nico nodded, his throat tight. "Yeah, I understand. I won't forget it."
"Good," Jorge replied, the seriousness not leaving his tone. "Loyalty is important, but never let it make you a prisoner. If they can't see what you bring to the table, you deserve better. No club, no matter how big, should make you feel like you're less than you are."
Nico exhaled slowly, his mind now clear. He was ready for whatever came next. "Thanks, Jorge. I get it. I'll keep that in mind."
Jorge's voice softened slightly, a hint of pride creeping in. "I know you will, kid. Now focus on what's in front of you. Whatever happens, we'll make sure you get what you deserve."
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