Chapter 72 – On The Way To Madrid
The scent of sweat, victory, and fresh tape lingered in the dressing room like an afterglow.
Laughter bubbled from one corner, where Dalot and Zirkzee argued playfully over who misplaced a pass in the final minute. Emre sat on the bench, legs swinging, his face caught in that rare, pure smile only a debut goal could conjure. His shirt stuck to his chest, grass-stained and damp, the collar slightly stretched from a tug during the celebration.
Across the room, Amorim stood with arms folded, a faint smile playing on his lips.
He looked at Emre, then at Nathan, then back again.
"This," he said, stepping forward and resting a hand on each of their shoulders, "is the energy we need."
Nathan grinned. He turned to Emre, ruffled his hair.
"First match? First goal and assist?" he scoffed dramatically. "What the hell, kid? Now I'm the one who should watch out."
Emre chuckled, shaking his head. "I only followed your run."
