As the group entered the hotel lobby, a few heads turned. Someone near the reception whispered, "That's him, isn't it? Lukas Brandt." Another pulled out a phone , and just as she was about to take the picture, Lukas turned towards her direction, and waved. Even in disguise, he couldn't fully escape the growing fame that had gripped Frankfurt since his breakout performances.

He smiled faintly under the mask, nodding politely to a small group of fans who had already recognized him. They clapped quietly, a gesture of admiration rather than intrusion. For Lukas, moments like this still felt strange — he was just a teenager from the academy months ago, and now he was the most talked-about name in Frankfurt.

As they entered the elevator, Marco chuckled softly. "You might need a better disguise next time, kid."

Lukas only shrugged, looking at his reflection in the mirrored walls. "Maybe," he said, his voice calm but thoughtful. "Or maybe I should just get used to it."

The elevator doors closed, cutting off the soft hum of the lobby below. For the first time that night, Lukas let himself exhale, the gold Player of the Match plaque still glinting faintly in his hand.

"How about getting a bigger place where we can all be staying when you guys come for matches instead of always using the hotel?" Lukas asked his father as they stepped out of the elevator on the 5th floor.

"If you want one, we'll look into it later," Javi responded as he opened the door to his room with Anne beside him.

"...Wait... You wanna get a house in Frankfurt?... Does that mean what I think it means?" Joao asked eyes wide open as he walked into his room with Lukas.

"What do you think it means?" Lukas asked.

"You wanna stay in Eintracht Frankfurt?"

"Why not?"

"You know... There are trophies that will be almost impossible to win if you stay here."

"My career just started, I'm getting regular game time in a top league, I am getting European experience and will most likely be playing Champions League football next season. What's wrong with wanting to stay? Besides, this is Frankfurt. Even if I end up not living in the house for long, it won't be very difficult to sell it or just keep it."

"I guess that makes sense... Anyway, I was just curious. I thought you'd definitely leave Eintracht Frankfurt in the summer. The interest from across Europe will soon start pouring in."

"Anything can happen, sure, but I currently have no plan of leaving."

Joanna walked up from behind Lukas and interlocked her fingers with his and gently squeezed them. She did not say a word but Lukas already knew what she was worried about.

The rumors of interest from several European clubs were starting to bubble up on the internet and it wouldn't be surprising if he has to go to Spain or England and then their relationship ends because of the distance.

"Joanna go to your room, what are you doing here?" Joao asked sarcastically.

"Yeah watch the tone, my guy," Lukas cut in.

"Ohhh... I see how it is. You're now siding with her, huh?"

"Now? I've always sided with her."

"Is that so? Leave then... And don't come back," João said as he pushed Lukas and Joanna out of the door.

"Thanks bro," Lukas mouthed to João as he was pushed out while João just nodded, smiled and slammed the door shut in front of them.

"What's his problem?" Joanna asked.

"I was gonna ask you. Aren't you supposed to be his twin?"

"Even I don't know what he's thinking half the time."

"Where am I gonna sleep now? He's shut me out..." Lukas asked as he squeezed Joanna's hand, secretly hoping for her to invite him to her room.

"Well... You're gonna have to figure that out on your own. Maybe ask that lady you were smiling to at the lobby..."

"Me? Smiling? What lady?"

"You're not about to deny it now, are you? I saw you. Smiling and waving at one of the receptionist as she took pictures of you. Should I be worried, Mr. Superstar?"

"Ohh that? I was just waving, Jo. You've got nothing to worry about..."

"I don't care. You're not staying with me tonight."

"C'mon... Pleaseee," Lukas begged as he tried a cute expression.

"Hmmm... I like that... Come here," Joanna said as she reached out, grabbed the neckline of his shirt and pulled down the hallway to her room.

* * *

The morning light filtered softly through the tall windows of the hotel suite, the rain from the previous night now gone, leaving a silvery calm over Frankfurt. Lukas knocked once on the door of Javi's room before stepping inside. His father and Marco were already there, sitting at the small dining table by the window, half-finished breakfast trays between them.

Javi looked up with a knowing grin. "Morning, champ," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Slept well?"

Lukas nodded, still a little groggy. "Yeah. I did."

Marco smirked, leaning back in his chair. "With Joanna, right?" he teased, his tone playful but sharp enough to make Lukas freeze for a second.

"Hey, nothing happened," Lukas said quickly, holding up his hands. "We just talked and fell asleep watching a movie. That's it."

Joanna and João had left for Darmstadt earlier that morning as it was a Friday morning and they had to attend classes. Of course Lukas also had classes, but his school is accomodating enough to give him time to rest especially after tough games like last night's.

Javi chuckled, though his eyes held a trace of seriousness. "I believe you," he said, setting his coffee down. "But listen, Lukas—you're young, and life is moving fast. Just make sure you stay responsible. Don't put yourself in a situation you're not ready for, understood?"

Lukas nodded. "I know, Dad."

"Good," Javi said, giving him a brief pat on the back before leaning into his chair.

Marco cleared his throat and straightened the papers in front of him. "Alright, since everyone's awake and innocent," he said with a small smirk, "we need to talk business."

He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times. "Bayern aren't giving up. They've reached out again. Even after you turned them down last week, Lukas. They want a meeting — face to face. Their sporting director made it clear: they see you as the natural successor to Müller and Sané, who'll both be leaving this summer. They're talking about building the future around you, Musiala, and Olise."

Lukas frowned, crossing his arms. "Isn't that illegal? I mean… I'm under contract with Frankfurt."

Marco nodded slowly. "Technically, yes. But football isn't always black and white. If they don't present it as a formal negotiation and just call it an 'informal meeting of interest,' then it's more… grey area than crime. Not exactly ethical, but it happens all the time."

Javi's expression hardened slightly. "Grey areas have consequences, Marco. Let's not get dragged into something that could ruin his reputation."

Marco lifted his hands. "Relax. I didn't say we were agreeing to meet. Just letting you both know the situation." He leaned forward, tapping the papers again. "Anyway, let's talk about Frankfurt's counteroffer. Hardung sent over the preliminary figures last night. They're willing to triple your base salary and double your bonuses. But they also want to raise the gentleman clause for clubs outside Germany — from 75 million euros to 150."

Lukas blinked, surprised. "That's… a lot."

"It is," Marco admitted. "But that's the price of being the face of a club like Frankfurt. I'll push back on it when we meet Hardung tomorrow. Don't worry, I won't let them tie you down unfairly."

Lukas ran a hand through his hair, still thinking it over. "Alright. Just… don't take it too far. I don't want to leave Frankfurt right now."

Marco smiled. "Understood. But don't be too loyal either. Loyalty's good — but not if it keeps you from growing."

Javi looked between the two of them and then out the window toward the skyline. "One step at a time," he said quietly. "For now, we just make sure the next step is the right one."

And as the morning light filled the room, Lukas felt the weight of his rising world pressing gently on his shoulders — both thrilling and heavy, like the calm before something big.

"So, your next game is on Sunday, right?" Javi asked.

"Yeah. Away at Bochum."

"Isn't it too much? That's what? Three games in a week?"

"It's nothing, Dad. After all, I haven't played 90 minutes in any of the last two games. The coach is managing my time well."

"I know. But I'm just worried. If you play too much games at such a young age, it might come back to affect you down the line."

"I understand your worries, but I'll be fine. Besides, I train way harder than I actually play."

"You aren't pushing yourself so hard in training, are you?"

"Oh no. Just moderate training."

"TT is the one pushing me."

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