December in Bucharest was bitter cold, the kind that seeped into your bones.
FCSB's schedule was relentless—league matches every weekend, European games midweek, cup competitions squeezed in between.
Andrei was no longer a curiosity.
After his performances against Cluj and Anderlecht,
Dică started him in the next league match against FC Botoșani.
FCSB vs FC Botoșani - Liga 1
Formation: 4-2-3-1
FCSB Starting XI:
GK: Andrei Vlad
DEF: (RB) Valentin Crețu,(CB) Joyskim Dawa,(CB) Ionuț Panțîru, (LB )Risto Radunović
MID: (CDM )Darius Olaru, (CDM )Adrian Șut
ATT:(LW ) Florinel Coman, (RW )Constantin Budescu, (CAM) Andrei Luca
ST: Florin Tănase
Botoșani wasn't glamorous opposition—a mid-table team from Moldova, fighting to avoid relegation.
But Romanian football was unpredictable. On any given day, any team could beat anyone.
The match was played in freezing rain, the pitch heavy and treacherous.
Andrei lined up on the right side of the attacking midfield three, his role to drift inside and combine with Tănase.
From kickoff,
Botoșani parked the bus—eleven men behind the ball, defending desperately.
FCSB dominated possession but couldn't break through. Budescu tried his tricks, Coman used his pace, but Botoșani's goalkeeper, Eduard Pap, was inspired.
By halftime, it was 0-0. The crowd grew restless.
"They're sitting deep," Dică told them in the dressing room.
"We need to be patient. Move them side to side, wait for the mistake."
The second half was more of the same. FCSB probed and pushed, but couldn't find the breakthrough.
In the 73rd minute, frustration boiling over, Andrei tried to dribble past three defenders. He lost the ball. Botoșani countered, and suddenly it was three attackers against two defenders.
Andrei sprinted back, lungs burning, trying to recover his mistake.
He caught up just as Botoșani's striker, Sekou Camara, prepared to shoot.
Andrei slid, blocking the shot with his body. The ball ricocheted out for a corner.
Defensive Work Rate: Noted
Stamina: -2 (extreme exertion)
Positioning: +0.1 (recovered to correct defensive position)
The corner was cleared. Crisis averted.
"That's it!" Dică screamed from the sideline. "That's the mentality!"
With ten minutes left, FCSB finally broke through. Olaru picked up the ball 30 yards out and struck it cleanly.
Pap got a hand to it but couldn't keep it out. 1-0.
The stadium exhaled in relief.
Final whistle: FCSB 1-0 FC Botoșani.
It wasn't pretty, but three points were three points.
In the dressing room, Andrei sat exhausted, cramping in both calves. His stats flashed:
Match Rating: 6.8/10
Possession Lost: 7 times
Tackles Made: 3 (highest for attacking player)
Distance Covered: 11.2 km
Not a great performance, but he'd worked for the team. Sometimes that mattered more than brilliance.
Tănase sat beside him. "You tried too hard today," the captain said, not unkindly. "Against a deep defense, you can't force it. Let the game come to you."
"I wanted to make things happen."
"I know. But patience is a skill too."
Tănase clapped his shoulder. "You're learning. That's what matters."
Overall Rating: 68.1 → 68.3
Progress was slowing. The easy gains were gone. Every improvement now required real work.
That evening, Andrei met Elena at their new favorite spot—a small coffee shop near the university where nobody recognized him. She was already there, laptop open, typing furiously.
"Bad day?" he asked, kissing her cheek.
"Article about corruption in the Romanian Football Federation.
My editor keeps watering it down because we're afraid of lawsuits."
She closed the laptop with more force than necessary. "How was your match?"
"Not great. I tried to do too much."
"I know. I watched." Elena pulled up the match replay on her phone. "See here? You're trying to beat three players. That's hero ball. You're better when you play simple and make smart runs."
"Since when did you become a tactical analyst?"
"Since I started sleeping with a footballer. I have to keep up." She smiled, but there was tension beneath it.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Always."
"Do you ever feel like this is moving too fast? Us, I mean. We've known each other six weeks."
Andrei considered his answer carefully. "Sometimes.
But then I remember that everything in my life is moving fast right now. Why should you be different?"
"Because relationships need time. Trust needs time."
"Do you not trust me?"
"I trust you. I'm not sure I trust the situation." Elena looked out the window at the December rain.
"Today at the office, someone asked if I was dating you. I said no, obviously. But they didn't believe me. They said I've been writing too favorably about you."
Andrei's stomach tightened. "Have you?"
"No! That's the point. I'm being scrupulously fair. But perception matters in journalism. If people think I'm compromised, my credibility suffers."
"So what do we do?"
Elena took his hand. "We be careful. We keep this private for now. And you keep playing well, so nobody can say I'm inflating your reputation."
"That's a lot of pressure."
"Welcome to dating a journalist." She squeezed his hand. "But Andrei? Even with all the complications, I don't regret this."
"Neither do I."
They talked for hours, about everything and nothing. When they finally left, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets slick and shining.
They walked together toward the metro, hands linked, aware that these moments of normalcy were precious.
Andrei's phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number: Nice game today. You're becoming quite the story. Let's talk soon. - Victor Becali
Andrei showed Elena. Her expression darkened.
"Victor Becali? The agent?"
"You know him?"
"Everyone knows him. He's one of the most powerful agents in Romanian football. Also one of the most controversial." Elena's journalist instincts kicked in. "Has he represented you before?"
"I don't have an agent. Never needed one."
"You do now." Elena's voice was serious. "Andrei, you're not a youth prospect anymore. You're playing first-team football in Europe. People are going to come after you—agents, managers, other clubs. You need representation."
"I don't even know how to choose an agent."
"Carefully. Very carefully." She pulled out her phone. "Let me make some calls. I know people who know people. We'll figure this out."
As they descended into the metro, Andrei felt the world expanding and contracting simultaneously. More opportunities, more complications. More people wanting a piece of him.
But he had Elena. And he had football.
Everything else was just noise.
New Challenge: Agent Selection
Impact: Career trajectory
Recommendation: Research thoroughly before committing
The system was right about one thing—nothing was simple anymore.