Iker exhaled deeply, trying to steel his nerves. He hadn't expected this; not now and not ever really. Just a couple of nights ago, he was playing FIFA with his friends: Fran and Víctor.
What a change of pace this was.
He scanned the pitch in an awful attempt to take in his surroundings. Everyone around him he considered a legend, idols he looked up to, even to this day.
As if to wake him from his stupor, he suddenly heard a yell.
"IKER!"
Instantly snapping out of his internal monologue, he took a calm touch from a sharp ball played into his feet.
He kept his head up as he truly took in the pitch for the first time that night. Seeing no clear through balls available, he passed back towards a certain maestro with a headband donning his features.
Taking a deep breath once more, he hardened himself as best he could (pause). He looked to create space for the midfield and cause controlled chaos around him, a Brazilian wall standing steady and on his feet to clean up any mistakes he made.
The match continued in this fashion; he had only been brought on in the dying moments to save legs and promote the youth towards the supporters. Not that Iker had any complaints.
***
The match soon ended, and Iker thought he had played well—nothing that would catch the eyes certainly, but solid enough for his first-ever first-team outing, especially considering it was only a few minutes.
Looking over to the scoreboard, 7-1 read to all those who saw it. A big win over Deportivo La Coruña. It was expected, but Real Madrid had been poor to start the 2017/2018 season, and it was a much-needed result.
Naturally, Iker came on when it was already 7-1.
To be completely honest, he had dreamed of his debut being in a match where he would come on the pitch and score a winner, or something, in a dramatic fashion. But beggars can't be choosers, and he recognized this as a significant step towards his dream of becoming the best player he could be.
He shook his head and thought to himself,
'Seriously, Iker, snap out of it. This is your fucking debut.'
He walked over towards the stands, applauding the supporters who came to watch. It certainly wasn't glorious, considering he hadn't contributed much to their dominant victory.
Real Madrid had a deep history and connection with their academy talents: Iker Casillas, Butragueño, Guti, and especially Raúl, if you looked past the fact that he came from Atleti's academy at age 15.
Iker felt pride as he heard the cheers, the celebrations after a win. He waved and smiled for a long while before he was fetched by Luka Modric, who had sort of taken Iker under his wing whenever he had trained under the first team fold.
"Iker, the boss needs us for a team meeting."
Luka's words were short and brief, but Iker had grown used to the quirks of the players within the dressing room. Luka was a quiet but determined guy who didn't command attention with his voice, but rather actions.
Iker nodded at the simple words, turning to wave one final time towards the supporters before following Luka into the changing room.
Safe to say the atmosphere was exuberant.
"Iker! Good debut!"
"Iker, how did it feel?"
Questions flew at him as he walked alongside Luka, and he felt like the man of the hour. But he wasn't, and he knew that deep down.
He tried his best to answer the questions that were sent his way with a nervous laugh.
"It felt good, and thank you."
Iker kept his words brief; he didn't like being too loud. I guess that is why he and Luka got along so well.
All words were lost, however, as the boss, Zidane, walked into the changing room. He looked around for a moment, his face serious, before he broke into a smile.
"What a win! Good job, lads, a good day out. Make sure to check in with the physios, the last thing we need are injuries."
Laughs broke out around the room, and Iker, being the 18-year-old he was, sought to speak more to Luka. He loved hearing his experiences and would soak up the knowledge like a sponge.
"Hey, Luka, your goal was amazing tonight."
In response, Luka offered a small smile and ruffled Iker's hair.
"Thanks, you weren't too bad yourself. It was a solid debut."
Iker chuckled awkwardly to himself, brushing Luka's hand off his head in a playful manner.
"Anyways, how do you think I can improve? I felt like I was suffocating at times; it was unbearable."
Iker received a hum as a response from Luka, who was now untying his boots and getting ready to clock out.
"You just need to express yourself. We've all seen you in training; you can do amazing things on the pitch. Trust yourself, and everything will come naturally."
With that, Luka stood up, presumably to finish speaking to the other lads and get checked in by the physios so he could finally head home.
Iker, however, was lost in thought.
'Easy for him to say, the old man.'
His eyes drifted to the boss, and he decided, later he would ask Zidane how he could better express himself, rather than just the simple response of trusting in his own abilities.
With a content smile, Iker got ready to go home.
***
Sitting in his room, the walls were covered with posters of Real Madrid legends. Iker was Madrid-born and Madrid-raised, and his family had supported Real Madrid practically since its establishment.
The TV was on, but what really caught Iker's eye was his now buzzing phone. Well, not the phone itself, but the caller.
Fran.
He sighed to himself before picking up, half expecting his friend's usual outgoing demeanor.
"What was it like, Iker? You lucky fucker, getting your debut at the Bernabeu. Were you nervous? Were there any hot chicks there? I saw you almost fucked up a pass once or twice."
Pinching the bridge of his nose already, Iker replied, exasperated.
"Calm the hell down, bro. But to answer your questions: it was amazing, yes, yes, and no."
Fran laughed heartily, and Iker couldn't help but shake his head.
"I watched the game, and trust me, you were ass."
Iker leaned back on his bed and snorted in response.
"Seriously, bro? I get my debut, and you say some shit like that?"
Fran just chuckled to himself.
"Yeah, yeah, anyways, hop on FIFA. It's time for you to lose."
***
A/N:
Be aware that this story is pretty likely not to be continued past this or a couple more chapters, knowing myself. I really cba to steadily write and create a story cus it takes too much brain power and time.
Anyways, I'm taking heavy inspiration from To Kill A Mockingbird for the structure of this story, so if I do end up posting more chapters, it will be a slow start that portrays Iker's beginnings.
Ask any questions you may have here about Iker or the story in general.