Off the Deep End (Cristiano Ronaldo / Lionel Messi)

Chapter 24: One Day in Munich

12th of April 2015

First it was just a glitter in the darkness, like a distant star in the night sky. Then, slowly, the outlines of the elongated object began to take shape through the blurry mist: the two glowing green layers of malachite in the base, the arching lines spiraling upwards the sides eventually turning into two human figures, whose outstretched arms supported the sparkling, golden globe that floated on the top of it all.

It was the World Cup trophy: the breathtakingly beautiful ultimate symbol of victory that very few human beings could ever see in person, let alone touch. And there it was now, standing on a white marble pedestal in front of him and it felt almost like it was calling for him.

'Come and take me. I know you can. Come and grab me', it said.

But Leo couldn't move. His brain tried to send signals to his limbs, but they never reached the destination. It was like he was paralyzed.

'Come and take me. Because if you don't, someone else will.'

Leo tried harder, but it was to no avail. He remained completely still. Even his eyeballs were stuck in place, helplessly staring in the direction of the trophy, unable to look away.

Then, to his horror, he saw a silhouette of a man approaching the trophy from the other side. The man was moving forward easily and effortlessly and stopped for a moment to admire the golden object that illuminated his face. 

That's when Leo recognized him.

The man – Thomas Müller – noticed him too and his lips curled into a taunting smirk.

"Oh, look, who's here. The best player of the World Cup himself. Well, it doesn't matter really, does it? You might well be the best – but you're still not the champion."

And with those words, Müller wrapped his long fingers around the trophy and lifted it, laughing like a maniac.

Suddenly the darkness lightened and Leo realized they were back at Maracanã, surrounded by the roaring audience and the whole football team of Germany was standing in front of him, laughing and jeering mercilessly at him, while he stood alone in the middle of the pitch. The audience was singing a song, banging their drums like crazy, but the drums didn't sound right, they sounded like they were made out of solid wood and actually it sounded more like someone was knocking...

'It's not a drum, it's the door', Leo thought, perplexed – and jolted awake from his sleep.

He looked to his right, where Neymar was still sleeping calmly in his own bed, his limbs sprawled out. Hastily Leo grabbed the nearest t-shirt and pair of shorts, put them on and then gently shook Neymar's shoulder to wake him up, before he went to get the hotel room door.

"Wake up, sleepyheads!" Luis' greeted in a perky voice and stepped inside without waiting for a permission. "It's time for breakfast!"

Neymar rubbed his drowsy eyes and yawned, looking even younger than usual.

"What time is it?"

"Half past eight."

"Uh, no chance! I strictly refuse to operate before nine."

"Okay then join us later. Leo?"

"I'm coming."

"Alright then, just give me a minute, okay?" Neymar retorted, tore himself up from the bed and vanished into the bathroom.

After 10 minutes or so the Barcelona tridente left the hotel room and joined the rest of their teammates in the private breakfast room separate from the other hotel guests.