The soft, cool breeze of early autumn danced through the trees as Mateo jogged slowly around the small park near Bayern's training complex.
It was his first light exercise outside after weeks of therapy —a gentle test of the ankle, nothing more.
Every step carried a strange mix of nervousness and joy.
He was moving again.He was coming back.
The world was peaceful, the crunch of fallen leaves beneath his shoes the only sound.
Until —
"Ist es nicht ein bisschen früh, nach deiner Verletzung schon zu joggen?"("Isn't it a bit early to be jogging after the injury you had?")
The voice floated gently from behind him —smooth, warm, teasing.
Mateo slowed, puzzled, and turned around.
Standing a few meters away was a girl.
A stunning girl.
Golden blonde hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, her emerald-green eyes shining with a curious light.
For a second —Mateo simply froze, caught completely off guard.
She smiled mischievously, tilting her head.
"Do I have something on my face?" she asked, her voice playful in perfect English.
Mateo blinked, his brain stalling.
"N-No! Sorry, I... I didn't mean to stare," he stammered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
The girl laughed softly —a sweet, ringing sound like wind chimes.
She stepped closer and extended her hand.
"I'm Klara," she said warmly.
He shook it, still feeling slightly dazed.
"I'm Mateo," he replied with a shy smile.
Her smile widened as if she already knew that.
"I recognized you," Klara said, her eyes sparkling."I saw your viral goal — and your matches with Bayern. You've made quite an impression."
Mateo flushed again, feeling a strange mix of pride and embarrassment.
"Are you... a fan?" he asked carefully.
Klara laughed again, this time softer.
"I love football," she said simply."Since I saw your match against Leverkusen, I've been following your games.You have something... special."
Mateo shifted, unsure how to respond to such praise.
"Thanks," he said finally, his voice quiet but sincere.
They wandered toward a nearby bench and sat down, the conversation flowing more easily now.
"So," Klara said with a grin, "who's your favorite player? Besides the obvious."
Mateo laughed.
"Messi," he admitted immediately."And Cristiano. I admire them both for different reasons."
Klara's eyes lit up.
"Me too! Messi especially. The way he moves, like the ball is part of him... it's magic."
Mateo nodded, feeling an instant connection.
"And you?" he asked.
Klara tapped her chin thoughtfully.
"Well, Messi is my favorite, no question.But I also love watching Iniesta. His vision, his calmness... it's beautiful football."
Mateo smiled wider.
"Yeah, Iniesta was incredible. A magician with passing.I'm trying to work on that part of my game, you know? Vision, passing."
Klara tilted her head, studying him with interest.
"I think you'll get there.You already have that spark when you dribble.If you add the vision of someone like Iniesta..." — she smiled —"unstoppable."
They talked for a while longer.
About favorite matches they had watched.About the World Cup dreams they both had — her as a fan, him as a future player.
It was easy.
Natural.
As if they had known each other for far longer than a few minutes.
Eventually, Klara glanced at her watch and sighed regretfully.
"I have to go... but before that..." she said, pulling out her phone.
"Want to exchange social media?"
Mateo nodded eagerly, fumbling a little as they added each other.
Before she left, Klara leaned closer, her voice soft but intense.
"I'm a big fan, Mateo.Keep chasing your dream.You're closer than you think."
Something stirred deep inside him —a fierce, burning promise.
He grinned and said impulsively:
"I won't just be the best in the U17 league...I'll be the best in the world!"
He laughed awkwardly after the bold declaration.
But Klara didn't laugh.
She just smiled —a smile full of belief.
"I want to see you winning the Ballon d'Or someday," she said, almost whispering.
Mateo's eyes gleamed.
"And not just that," he said firmly."I'll win the World Cup.The Champions League.Everything."
They shared a long look —a silent exchange of dreams and determination.
Finally, with a small wave, Klara turned and walked away, her golden hair catching the last rays of the sun.
Mateo stood there a little longer, staring at the sky, heart pounding.
Inside him, a new fire burned hotter than ever.
Not just for football.
But for everything life had yet to offer.