The first week of training with the first team was a brutal education for Lukas. Every session felt like a test, every drill a challenge to prove he belonged.

The pace was relentless, the physicality unforgiving, and the tactical demands far more complex than anything he had experienced in the academy. Mateo watched his dormmate struggle, saw the frustration building, the self-doubt creeping in. And he knew he had to help.

It was a strange dynamic. They were the same age – both seventeen, both still living in the dorm under the club's protective watch.

But Mateo had a full season of first-team experience under his belt. He had played in the Bundesliga, in the Champions League, had won a title, and had faced the best players in Europe. That experience, that knowledge, put him in an unexpected position: mentor.

After a particularly grueling training session, where Lukas had misplaced several passes and been caught out of position twice, Mateo found him sitting alone on the bench, his head in his hands. The other players had already headed to the showers, but Lukas remained, staring at the ground.

Mateo sat down beside him, waiting. Finally, Lukas looked up, his face etched with frustration. "I'm not good enough, am I?"

Mateo shook his head firmly. "You are. You're just adjusting. It takes time."

"I keep messing up. Every pass, every movement – it's like my brain can't keep up with the speed."

"That's normal. I felt the same way my first few weeks. The game is faster at this level. The players are stronger, smarter. But you adapt. Your brain learns. Your body adjusts."

"How long did it take you?"

Mateo thought for a moment. "A few weeks. Maybe a month. But everyone is different. The important thing is not to panic. Trust your training. Trust what you know."

Lukas nodded slowly, but the doubt still lingered in his eyes. Mateo knew words alone wouldn't be enough. He needed to show him.

---

That evening, after dinner in the dorm's communal dining area, Mateo pulled Lukas aside. "Come with me. We're going to do some extra work."

"Now? Mateo, I'm exhausted."

"I know. But this will help. Trust me."

They walked to one of the smaller training pitches, the floodlights casting long shadows across the grass. Mateo set up a simple passing drill, one they had done countless times in the academy. "We're going back to basics," he signed. "Forget about the first team for a moment. Forget about the pressure. Just focus on the fundamentals."

They started slowly, passing the ball back and forth, finding their rhythm. Gradually, Mateo increased the pace, added movement, introduced one-touch passing. Lukas's confidence began to return, his touches becoming cleaner, his passes more accurate.

After thirty minutes, they stopped, both breathing heavily. "See? You can do this. The problem isn't your ability. It's your mindset. You're overthinking, trying too hard to impress. Just play your game."

Lukas wiped the sweat from his brow. "You really think I can make it?"

"I know you can. But you have to believe it too."

---

The next day, during a tactical session, Klopp pulled Lukas aside. Mateo watched from across the room, trying to read their conversation. Klopp's expression was serious but not harsh, and Lukas was nodding, listening intently. When they finished, Lukas returned to his seat, his face thoughtful.

Later, back in the dorm, Mateo asked what Klopp had said.

"He told me I'm trying too hard to be like the veterans," Lukas signed. "He said I need to play to my strengths – my vision, my passing range. He said that's why he promoted me. Not to be another Gundogan or another Sahin, but to be Lukas Müller."

"He's right. You have your own style. Your own strengths. Use them."

"He also said you've been helping me. He noticed the extra training sessions."

"Of course I'm helping you. That's what teammates do."

"He said I'm lucky to have you as a mentor."

Mateo felt a warmth spread through his chest. "And I'm lucky to have you as a friend."

---

The breakthrough came during a scrimmage later that week. The first team was divided into two squads, and Lukas was placed in the midfield alongside Mateo. It was the first time they had played together at this level, and the connection was immediate.

In the twentieth minute, Mateo received the ball in the center circle, turned, and saw Lukas making a diagonal run into space. Without hesitation, he played a perfectly weighted through ball. Lukas controlled it with his first touch, looked up, and delivered a cross into the box that Aubameyang met with a powerful header. Goal.

The players erupted in celebration, and Klopp blew his whistle, a wide grin on his face. "Ja! That's it! That's what I want to see! Mateo, Lukas – beautiful connection!"

Mateo jogged over to Lukas, who was standing in the middle of the pitch, a look of disbelief on his face. "See? I told you. You belong here."

Lukas grinned, a genuine, relieved grin. "We did that together."

"That's how it's supposed to work."

---

After training, Marco Reus approached Lukas in the locker room. "Good work today, kid. That assist was quality."

"Thank you," Lukas said, his voice filled with gratitude.

Reus glanced at Mateo, who was changing nearby. "You've got a good mentor. Listen to him. He knows what he's doing."

Mats Hummels, overhearing the conversation, chimed in. "And don't be afraid to make mistakes. We all do. The key is learning from them."

Lukas nodded, feeling a surge of acceptance. These were the veterans, the leaders of the team, and they were acknowledging him, welcoming him. It was a moment he would never forget.

---

That night, back in their dorm room, Lukas and Mateo sat on their beds, exhausted but content. The small room, with its simple furnishings and football posters, had become their sanctuary. It was where they could be themselves, away from the pressure and expectations of the training ground.

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