"Yeah, I know... But how the hell does soone curve a header?" Lukas asked, frustrated as he closed his eyes and thought about the grueling tasks the KDB Ego he summoned had been making him complete.
[*You were warned of the risks before you selected him. Unfortunately, you’re going to have to complete the task before you’re able to do anything else in the LTC.*]
"Yeah... I know... I just didn’t expect it to be this difficult to complete. There’s no way De Bruyne had to do all that training to be able to make passes like that, though!"
[*There’s a reason why you’re not him. And there’s no way you could possibly know the kind of hard work he put in to beco a player like that.*]
"Damn... You’re right... I’m just venting."
Lukas turned and looked out the window of the bus as it sped down the highway. They were heading to the hotel where they would spend the next two days.
About an hour later, the bus ca to a stop at the River Chateau Hotel.
"Alright, boys, we are here," assistant coach Zembrod began as he stood up from his seat. Toppmöller had his eyes closed with his arms folded, though he didn’t look asleep.
"Your rooms are all ready, you’ll get the keys in the lobby. Everyone, get so rest. Coach Dino and I will head to the Stadio Olimpico now for the press conference. We will have a training session at the stadium tomorrow morning."
"Can’t we look around the city?" Larsson asked, peeking his head out from the row of seats.
"As long as you’re in bed before 10 p.m. I expect you to be ready for training by 7 a.m. tomorrow."
A few players sighed and grunted as they stood up, but they all agreed as they stepped off the bus.
Lukas walked into the hotel lobby alongside his teammates, the echo of rolling suitcases and low chatter filling the air. The marble floor glead under the warm lights, and the faint scent of polished wood and fresh coffee lingered near the reception desk.
He adjusted the strap of his bag as he followed the line of players, nodding politely at the staff who were already prepared to check them in. The hush of the lobby, broken only by footsteps and the distant hum of traffic outside, carried a calmness that contrasted with the energy of the airport they had just left behind.
"Yo, Luke, a few of the boys want to look around the area later. Wanna join?" Knauff asked as he opened the door to his room — just beside Lukas’s.
"Yeah? Okay then. As long as we’re back early."
"Definitely. Let’s et at the lobby in 30 minutes."
"Alright."
* * *
About half an hour later Lukas, Knauff, Larsson, Uzun, Ekitike, and Koch stepped out of the hotel lobby and onto the street.
Lukas wore a black padded jacket zipped up to the collar, the kind that was light but warm enough for the January chill. Underneath, a grey hoodie peeked out at the neckline, the hood resting lazily on his shoulders. He had on a pair of slim-fit jeans, slightly faded at the knees, and white sneakers that already bore the marks of both football training and city streets.
A beanie pulled low over his ears kept the cold at bay, and his hands were buried deep inside the jacket’s pockets as he walked with the group, his breath faintly visible in the crisp Roman air.
"No one else agreed to co?" Knauff asked.
"A separate group already left. They went to see St. Peter’s Basilica. I heard it’s really beautiful. So wanted to rest, though," Larsson responded.
"Wait, why aren’t we going there too?" Lukas asked.
"You’re Catholic?"
"Who said only Catholics could go there?"
"No one. I just assud. Well, we can go if you guys want..." Larsson said, glancing at the group.
No one replied, so they just kept walking.
As they moved on, the buildings thinned slightly, giving way to longer stretches of road lined with trees stripped bare for winter. The chatter of their group mingled with the occasional echo of a scooter darting past. The Tiber River soon revealed itself, its surface dark and glassy, catching fragnts of pale sky and the orange glow of streetlamps flickering on one by one.
Ahead, Ponte Milvio ca into view, its arches rising steady and historic over the water. The bridge seed to glow under the evening lights, its stonework softened by age and countless footsteps that had crossed before them. Along its railings, clusters of padlocks caught the light like faint sparks, symbols left by others who had passed through. The sound of the river lapping against the arches mixed with the muffled rhythm of footsteps as the city around them slowed into twilight.
The scene was srizing.
Lukas looked down the bridge and saw a young couple with their hands interlocked, sharing a kiss under the setting sun.
"I should travel with Jo soti," he thought as he smiled and faced back down to look at the flowing water.
"Why are we, a bunch of guys, watching the sun set from a bridge? That’s stuff that couples do," Uzun asked as he turned to look at the group.
Lukas stayed quiet as he threw pebbles into the river.
"Don’t you like the serene atmosphere? It’s so calming," Ekitike responded.
"Yeah, I like it. But I’d prefer to be here with my girlfriend. Not with a bunch of dudes."
"Do you even have a girlfriend?" Koch asked, turning to face Larsson.
"Of course I do! Just because I don’t parade her around doesn’t an she doesn’t exist."
"Yeah, there’s no way he didn’t just lie," Lukas chid in, causing a wave of laughter from the group.
"Look at this kid talking. What do you know about girlfriends?" Larsson asked as he tried to pinch Lukas.
"More than you apparently!" Lukas replied, swatting Larsson’s hands.
"Wait... Are you being serious? Luke, you have a girlfriend?" Knauff asked, surprised.
"Yeah, he does. I caught him sweet-talking his girlfriend on the phone the other day," Larsson added.
"Damn... Kids these days... I rember when I was your age, I was focused on school and football. I had no idea what love was," Uzun said, shaking his head.
"You were my age only like three years ago. Why are you now acting like you’re married?" Lukas asked, giving him a disgusted look.
"Three years is a lot of ti, you know..."
"Yeah, right."
"Okay, enough bantering about who knows more about love. I’m hungry. Let’s go back to the hotel," Larsson said, leaning off the railings and stretching.
" too... I wanna try the fad Italian spaghetti," Koch added.
The group walked together back to the hotel for dinner. Although not the most eventful, it was an evening that had brought them closer together.
* * *
{In Italian}: "Well, this ga needs no introduction for the people of Ro and Italy. The Stadio Olimpico has been packed full for the past two hours. The noise level in here is just unimaginable. Eintracht Frankfurt, having already secured a place in Europe, co to this stadium, where they are very much unwelco, to try and send I Giallorossi out of Europe this season.
The Romanisti are defiant. They want their club competing in Europe. But to do that, they need a win tonight. Nothing less than perfection will cut it.
Eintracht with little to play for, Roma with everything to play for. Anything can happen in 90 minutes, and we will find out what will happen next," Maurizio Compagnoni, the Sky Sports Italian comntator, gave the opening statent as the teams walked out of the tunnel, led by the referees as the crowd roared.
Lukas’s heart skipped a beat as he walked in. It was like he had walked into a wolves’ den.
He had initially felt the energy a few minutes ago when he ca out for the warm-ups, but what he was feeling now was incomparable.
It was like the ground was shaking.
"Wow..."
That was all he could think as the Europa League Anthem echoed through the stadium, the crowd’s noise almost in tune with the anthem itself.
It was a whole different atmosphere.
The significance of the occasion wasn’t lost on the Roma players. They knew what they needed to do. A win was required. They had the ho advantage. The relatively less-motivated opposition. Everything was set up for them to snatch the win.
{IT:} "Roma co into this ga in decent form. Just one loss in the last eight gas with five wins and two draws. Frankfurt, however, in sterling form — five straight wins in all competitions. Will they be able to extend that streak, or will they crumble under the pressure from Ro?"
FWEEE!
The referee’s whistle blew as Dovbyk kicked off the ga for Roma.
Lukas, with his eyes glued to the ball, turned off the voice of the crowd ringing through his ears, and gave chase.
A/N: What do you guys think about changing the formatting style of when multiple people are in conversation.
Instead of how I did in this Chapter where it’s like "bla bla bla," Knauff said, it’ll be:
Knauff: "BLA BLA BLA"
Lukas: "xyz"
At least when it’s multiple people in a conversation...
Let know what you think.
-Writ.
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