The fortress that Klopp and the club had built around Mateo was ruthlessly efficient. The endless digital tsunami was reduced to a filtered, manageable stream.
His social media, now managed by a team of professionals, became a sanitized feed of training photos and approved brand messages. The world's noise was muffled, but the silence it left behind was of a different, more insidious kind. It was the silence of isolation.
The reality of his new life became starkly, painfully clear on a crisp Tuesday afternoon. Training had finished early, and a rare sliver of unscheduled time appeared in his meticulously structured day. The desire for a simple slice of normalcy was overwhelming.
"Let's go to the cafe," Mateo signed to Lukas, referring to the small, unpretentious spot in the city center they favored, a place where the owner knew their orders and treated them like any other local teenagers.
Lukas hesitated, a flicker of unease crossing his face. "Are you sure? It's… different now."
