Become A Football Legend-Chapter 169: Quality Time

Chapter 169: Quality Time
Joanna didn’t let go right away. For a long few seconds, it was just her holding him under the doorway lights, her face buried against his chest, Lukas’s chin resting atop her hair. The hallway behind them buzzed with surprise and whispered chatter — Leonie’s mouth hung open, Mara grabbed Hannah’s arm, and even a couple of boys passing by stopped and stared.
By the time Joanna pulled back, cheeks warm and eyes shining, half the apartment had realized something had just been revealed.
"So... yeah," she breathed out, laughing nervously, "it’s true."
The girls exhaled all at once — shock turning instantly into curiosity.
"Oh my god, since when?"
"You have to tell us everything!"
"Is he like... actually like that in real life??"
"Joanna you’re living my dream I swear!"
Joanna laughed helplessly as she was swallowed into a ring of eager faces tugging her toward the couch.
Meanwhile, Lukas slipped deeper into the apartment — where João was already walking toward him with the widest grin on his face.
"You dramatic bastard," João said, pulling him into a hug that nearly lifted him off the ground. "You really made an entrance."
Lukas laughed. "Would’ve been boring if I texted ’I’m downstairs,’ right?"
João smacked his shoulder. "Just don’t take my twin sister away from me now that you’re famous."
"Never," Lukas answered, sincere and immediate.
Some of Lukas’s former classmates from the gymnasium were there too — kids who remembered playing pickup games behind the school building and watching Lukas score ridiculous goals before anyone knew his name. They greeted him with the familiar Hey bro!, Didn’t think you’d remember us!, Dude you went crazy against Italy!
And Lukas, as always, remembered every name.
The night unfolded like a warm fire spreading gently through the room. Someone turned down the lights. A sparkler-studded cake was brought out. Everyone gathered.
"Happy birthday to you..."
Voices rose — loud, off-key, joyful.
João bowed dramatically. Joanna hid her face and laughed. Lukas clapped, smiling in that soft, bright way he rarely showed in stadiums.
Pictures followed — lots of them.
Then came autographs. So many autographs.
People fanned out their arms, phone cases, shirts, napkins, one guy even brought out his math textbook.
"Lukas please sign the index page, I need your motivation during finals."
Lukas almost choked laughing but signed it anyway.
Then the cameras. One selfie. Then five. Then whole group photos.
And as soon as someone went live on Instagram:
"GUYS LUKAS BRANDT IS AT JOÃO’S PARTY IN DARMSTADT. COME QUICK!"
The crowd doubled. Then tripled.
Neighbors came. Strangers from two blocks away came.
The hallway was full. The apartment air turned warm and tight.
João peeked into the corridor and swore. "Okay — yeah — this is getting out of hand."
And through the rising noise, Joanna found Lukas’s hand.
"Come on," she whispered.
They slipped through the kitchen door, where the balcony opened to the back street. She had already thought of everything: hoodie, baseball cap, and a mask she borrowed from someone earlier.
Lukas tucked his hair under the cap, shrugged on the hoodie, pulled the mask up.
They slipped downstairs, quiet, unnoticed.
Out into the cool, gentle Darmstadt night.
Breathing. Finally.
They walked down the sidewalk, out of sight of the crowd, before Lukas started slowing.
Joanna stopped and looked up at him. "What’s wrong?" she asked.
"You didn’t really think I’d come without your present, did you?" he asked with a warm smile.
Lukas blinked, then reached into his jacket.
He pulled out a small velvet box — soft white, tied with a dark satin ribbon.
Her breath hitched.
She untied the ribbon, opened the box — and inside was a delicate Van Cleef & Arpels Alhambra necklace, white mother-of-pearl pendant outlined in warm gold. Understated elegance. The kind that didn’t scream wealth — it whispered meaning.
"Oh..." was all Joanna managed.
Lukas stepped closer and lifted the necklace from the box.
"Turn," he murmured.
She did.
Soft fingertips brushed the back of her neck.
The clasp clicked.
He let the chain settle gently against her collarbone.
"It’s beautiful," she whispered.
"So are you," Lukas said, without hesitation.
Joanna smiled — shy, flustered, glowing.
"Okay," she breathed, suddenly energized, "movie?"
He blinked. "Movie?"
"Yes. Snow White just premiered. The late slot is in twenty minutes. If we run—"
"I just played ninety minutes two days ago—"
"Exactly. So your fitness is perfect," she grinned.
He laughed as they ran.
* * *
The theater, 11:08 PM
The room was nearly empty — just three other people scattered in the dark.
They took seats in the back row.
Joanna leaned into him.
The movie began.
Thirty minutes in, her head slid gently onto his shoulder.
Ten minutes later — completely asleep.
Lukas smiled faintly, lifted her head, and eased it onto his lap.
He rested one hand on her back, the other slowly stroking her hair.
The movie itself... was fine. He didn’t love it. Didn’t hate it. But sitting there, in the dim theater light, her breathing soft and steady, her hair warm against him — he wouldn’t have traded the moment for anything else.
The credits rolled.
The theater emptied.
But Lukas stayed.
The theater attendant recognized him halfway through cleaning the aisles.
"Take your time," the attendant said with a quiet smile. "We don’t close for another forty minutes."
Lukas nodded gratefully.
About half an hour later, Joanna finally stirred.
She lifted her head from his lap, blinking groggily.
"How long was I out?" she whispered.
"Not long," Lukas lied, smiling softly.
She sat up, and realized... he had stayed the whole time so she could sleep.
Her eyes softened.
She didn’t speak.
She just shifted — sliding into his lap, knees on either side of him, arms loosely around his neck, faces close in the dark.
"Now," she whispered, voice low and warm, "for my real birthday gift."
She leaned in.
Their foreheads touched first — slow, unhurried.
His hand came to rest gently on her waist.
Then—
She kissed him.
Soft. Warm. Steady.
The kind of kiss that didn’t ask for anything — it told.
I’m happy you’re here.
I missed you.
Thank you for choosing me.
Lukas kissed her back, just as gently, the world quiet around them.
And in that small, dim movie theater in Darmstadt, with no cameras, no stadiums, no noise — just the two of them — it was the most real moment in the world.
* * *
The next morning. ProfiCamp, Frankfurt
The sun was mild, the sky pale blue above the training pitches. The internationals had only just returned, so the morning session was light: rondos, short passing drills, a bit of stretching and acceleration work, nothing too heavy before the weekend preparations really began.
Now they sat scattered along the low benches by the touchline, shin pads off, bibs tossed aside, water bottles rolling lazily under the seats. There was a relaxed atmosphere — the kind that came when everyone had avoided injuries and the international break had gone well.
And it had gone incredibly well for one of them.
"So," Knauff said, leaning his elbows back on the bench and looking straight at Lukas with a stupid grin. "Three goals, three assists. Six. In two games. At sixteen."
"Disgusting," Brown added, shaking his head. "Genuinely criminal."
"You’re not supposed to start your national team career like it’s a training montage," Koch put in, grinning. "Leave something for the rest of us to achieve, man."
Lukas only shrugged, tying his laces slowly. "I don’t write the script. I just show up."
"Oh wow," Bahoya said, eyes wide in mock reverence. "Look at Mr. Main Character."
The group burst out laughing.
"Wait wait wait," Trapp said, adjusting his captain’s band on his wrist even though training was over. "Before we inflate his head any more — someone explain to me why the tabloids this morning were screaming ’BRANDT AGREES BAYERN MOVE IN PRINCIPLE.’"
A chorus of oooooooohhhhh went around the bench.
Lukas didn’t even look up from his laces.
"Because tabloids lie," he said, tone casual. "I didn’t agree to anything. I didn’t even consider agreeing to anything."
Larsson nodded immediately. "Yeah. If something like that happened, I’d be the first to hear. And I didn’t hear—"
"Are you his lawyer now?" Knauff cut in.
"Best friend," Larsson corrected.
"Same thing to me," Ekitike said.
"So you’re staying?" Koch asked, leaning forward, chin on his knee. Unlike the others, he wasn’t joking. He sounded... hopeful.
Lukas finally looked up — and smiled. Calm, certain.
"Yeah. I’m not going to Bayern."
A small wave of relief visibly passed through the squad — particularly Larsson, who nodded like he had just allowed himself to breathe again.
"Okay," Knauff said, clapping once. "Now that we know our starboy isn’t leaving—"
Larsson’s grin slowly spread — the kind of grin that meant trouble was coming.
"Speaking of starboy," he said, unlocking his phone and turning it toward the group. "I saw something interesting this morning."
Lukas blinked.
It was a photo — grainy, taken from a distance, probably by someone in a nearby building overlooking the park in Darmstadt.
Lukas.
Standing behind a girl.
Gently fastening a necklace around her neck.
Her hair falling behind her back like a curtain.
Sunflowers held in her hand.
The timing, the posture, it was unmistakably tender.
The reaction was immediate.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH—!"
A/N: Pardon the cringe....
-Writ.