The evening was a dream-like blur as Izan stepped into the grand lobby of the Hotel des Invalides, the opulence of the Ballon dāOr ceremony still coursing through his veins.
The shimmering chandeliers reflected the excitement in his eyes, and beside him, Miranda matched his steps with the elegance that had captivated the photographers on the red carpet.
Clutched in his hand was a small silver tokenāa commemorative memento given to attendees. It was a tangible reminder of the night he met some of footballās brightest stars.
At the lobby, Izan had met Jamal Musiala with the latter taking the initiative to start a conversation with him.
Musiala had been nothing like Izan expected. The German midfielder was relaxed and approachable, worlds apart from the distant aura many top players carried.
Their conversation backstage after the ceremony had been brief but impactful. Musiala had smiled warmly, extending a handshake.
"Congratulations on everything, Izan. Thatās the correct pronunciation right?" Musiala said. Izan chuckled a bit before responding, "Slightly better than people I meet first."
"Well, thatās good then. Youāre doing great for someone your age. I didnāt even believe you were 15 when I saw you play against AtlĆ©tico."
"Those guys were really tough to play against since they are physical and rough with opponents. Anyways keep on like this".
"Thanks," Izan had replied, barely concealing his excitement. "Youāre a genius yourself. Watching you play at Bayern made me believe in my own style."
Musiala chuckled. "Thatās kind of you to say when Iām just starting out. If I had talent like yours at that age, I might have won the Ballon dāOr by now"
"Keep doing what youāre doing, and who knows? Maybe one day, weāll play alongside each other or face off in the Champions League." Musiala said before walking off.
Now, as the elevator doors closed with a soft chime, Izan relived that moment, his heart swelling with the possibility of standing on such a stage alongside players he admired. Miranda broke the silence.
"You looked so confident up there tonight," she said, her voice warm with admiration.
Izan shrugged, though he couldnāt suppress a small smile. "I was nervous, to be honest. Itās not every day you get to meet someone like Jude or Musiala."
"You handled it well. He seemed genuinely impressed by you." Miranda said as she walked off.
The elevator doors slid open, revealing the plush hallway leading to their suite. The thick carpet muted their steps as they approached the door.
"They sure spent quite a bit," Izan thought as he walked through the hallway.
Inside, the suite was a picture of understated luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of Paris at night, the Eiffel Tower glowing like a beacon.
Izan loosened his tie and sank into the couch, the weight of the evening finally catching up with him.
Miranda joined him, slipping off her heels and tucking her legs beneath her. "itās nice, isnāt it ?" she asked, gesturing to the room and the cityscape beyond.
Izan nodded at her words before looking away.
"Just a few years ago, I was playing in the local parks at Alboraya. Now, Iām here, meeting players that are probably the next generation of superstars"
Miranda tilted her head thoughtfully. "What did Musiala say to you?"
Izanās eyes lit up as he recounted their brief exchange. "He told me to keep going and that heās been watching my progress. I donāt even know if heās just being nice but if he wasnāt, then itās good"
Miranda smiled, her gaze softening. "You deserve it, Izan. Youāve worked so hard for this. But donāt let it overwhelm you. Just take it one step at a time."
He nodded, her words grounding him. "Youāre right. Sometimes, I get caught up in thinking about the futureāwhatās next, who Iāll play against, whether Iāll live up to everyoneās expectations. But tonight, I realized that itās not just about the future. Itās about enjoying moments like this."
They talked late into the night, sharing stories of their journeys in football. Miranda spoke about the challenges she faced as a woman in the sport, the sacrifices she made, and the triumphs that made it all worthwhile.
Izan listened intently, finding parallels between their experiences despite their different paths.
As the clock approached midnight, Miranda stretched and stood. "I should get some rest. We have an early flight tomorrow."
Izan nodded, rising to walk her to the door. "Thanks for tonight, Miranda. It was nice to talk about everything."
"Donāt worry, I have to take care of you as an agent and as your new mommy, hopefully, or Komi would skin me alive," Miranda said before smiling.
Izan rolled his eyes at her words and thanked her again.
"Anytime," she replied, giving him a warm smile before disappearing into her room down the hall.
.....
The next day, Izan woke up to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. He stretched, the memories of the previous night bringing a faint smile to his face.
After a quick shower, he packed his bag and met Miranda in the lobby. Together, they headed to the waiting car that whisked them to Charles de Gaulle Airport.
The airport buzzed with early morning travellers, but the staff ushered them smoothly through check-in and security.
Soon, they were seated in the first-class cabin of the plane, a quiet oasis away from the bustling terminal.
As the plane ascended, the stewardess served breakfastāa spread of croissants, fresh fruit, and steaming coffee. Izan savoured each bite, the calm atmosphere allowing him to reflect on the whirlwind of events.
Miranda glanced at him from across the table, her expression thoughtful. "Whatās on your mind?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing. Just prepping my mind for the clash on Saturday. You know weāre playing Real Madrid on that day, right?" Izan asked.
"For a kid, you think too much. Itās Tuesday, and youāve started thinking about Real Madrid. Couldnāt you wait for Thursday at the very least" Miranda said.
"Let football take its course and donāt think too much about it"
Her words lingered with Izan as the plane cruised above the clouds.
For now, he allowed himself to simply beāa teenager chasing his dreams, savouring the present while preparing for whatever lay ahead.
....
The plane touched down smoothly on Valenciaās tarmac, its sleek fuselage glinting under the airportās lights.
Izan and Miranda went through a few processes before walking out of the arrivals.
With the sliding doors hissing to life, Izan stepped out first, wearing a white oversized hoodie with his bag in hand.
Behind him, Miranda stepped out now in jeans in a top with a warm coat draped over.
The airport was quieter than usual, with few people around. "Guess they didnāt know we were coming," Izan said as he tightened his hold on the bag.
"Did you want me to leak the news of our arrival?" Miranda said with a grin. Izan just shook his head and looked at her before walking out of the airport.
"Miura," a feminine voice said. Izan turned to look at the source of the voice and found Hori and Komi getting out of a car.
Izan quickly signalled for them to stay in the car before walking over with Miranda.
Inside the car, the atmosphere was muted. Komi, seated in the front passenger seat, turned to look at her son, her eyes filled with pride and concern.
"You handled yourself well yesterday," she said, her voice gentle. Hori, sitting beside Izan, leaned in with a wide grin.
"You looked so cool up there, like a real superstar! The way they talked about youāāthe next big thing in football!ā"
Izan managed a small smile, glancing at Miranda who was driving. She caught his gaze and smiled back before focusing on the road.
"You were brilliant," she said softly. "This is just the beginning."
The drive home was quiet, the hum of the city dimmed in the late hour. Valenciaās familiar skyline came into view, its charm grounding Izan after the surreal glitz of Paris.
Hori rested her head on his shoulder, and for a moment, he allowed himself to exhale.
When they arrived at the house, Komi ushered everyone inside. The warmth of home enveloped them as Hori bounded upstairs, still brimming with excitement.
Izan lingered in the living room, as Komi handed Miranda some herbal tea. Miranda smiled before Komi sat beside her, her hands finding Mirandaās.
Seeing his mumās smile, Izan felt truly happy that she finally found someone. The two started getting a bit touchy so Izan stood up and jokingly berated the two adults before heading to his room.
"Iāve never been this tired, even after a match,", Izan said as he fell on his bed. He looked around for a bit before his eye settled on a picture.
"How are you, Dad," Izan said before picking it up. "If youāre ever wondering, Iām doing great, and so are Mum and Hori", Izan said before putting the picture frame down.
He fell on his bed once more before finally sleeping. The focus was now back on his football.
A/n: Chapter of the day. Have fun reading. Ill try to bring another chapter today but if I canāt, forgive me. I want to quickly finish the Valencia arc but Iām so drained.[ Dirty minded]
Anyways see you in a bit]