Pep watched it happen. And continued.
"Before you," he said, almost thoughtfully, "the only player I've seen who could do what you do on the ball…" A small pause. "…is Lionel Messi."
The words hung in the air. Heavy. Impossible to ignore.
Pep shook his head slightly. "You're not there yet," he added immediately. "Of course not." Then he leaned forward again. "But you are ahead of schedule. Very ahead." His gaze sharpened. "And if you come… if you learn… if you trust the process… you can reach that level much sooner."
Lukas didn't speak. He didn't even realize he hadn't. He was just nodding. Listening. Taking it all in. Every word. Every idea.
Across the room, Javi watched. First Pep. Then his son. Then Pep again.
And for the first time since they walked in—he understood.
Lukas wasn't just listening. He was gone. Completely drawn in. Starstruck.
