1 - Prologue

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            Mesut Özil, midfielder of the famous football club Real Madrid CF, the number twenty-three of the team, sighed as he packed his clothes into his sporting bag before zipping it up. The other players around him, like Ramos, Iker and Ronaldo were talking to each other in Spanish. The German barely understood anything, his own Spanish skills were not yet good enough. He could barely hold any conversation and usually kept to himself or talked to Sami, the other German footballer on the team in their mother language.

"Mes, you finished?" Cristiano asked, making Mesut look back at him. The Portuguese had been so kind to offer him a ride home that day. Over the short time Özil had been in Real, he and Cris built a solid friendship. The striker helped him with his Spanish if he could, giving him some tips while they were talking. Ronaldo even asked about him and his "ritual" before the games as he called it. Mesut had been slightly embarrassed when he explained the prayer he always said before a game and Cris accepted it, promising to remind him of it, if he ever forgot.

Mesut nodded and picked up his black sporting bag, saying goodbye to the others and following Cristiano to the parking lot of the Estadio Santiago Bernabéu. Sami gave him a short hug before he left as well, leaving the other players behind in the locker room.

Once they reached Mesut's home, the German turned to the striker. "Once again, thank you for the ride." Cris just shook his head and laughed. "Yeah, no problem, Nemo. I'll see you tomorrow at training?"

Mesut nodded and waved his hand, closing the car door, his sporting bag already hanging over his shoulder as he walked to his front door as Cristiano drove of in his sports car.

Mesut shook his head, smiling to himself as he unlocked the door. He'd never believed that he would once play in the same team, the same club as Ronaldo and actually befriending him. He respected the striker, especially so, after he'd been so warm and welcoming to him.

With the others Mesut still felt slightly awkward due to the language barrier but he was steadily getting better, even Sami and Cris said so. What surprised him the most was that Cristiano casually picked up some German words from Sami and him, sometimes the Portuguese was asking in English and Spanish what some German words meant that he'd heard them saying. Mesut admired that.

Once the front door was unlocked and opened, he could hear the phone line ringing. He quickly set down his bag and closed the door behind him before rushing over to the phone, barely picking up in time as he heard a voice speaking on the live voicemail.

"Hola. ¿Quién es?"

Mesut pressed the phone to his ear with his shoulder, putting down his keys on the table before reaching down to untie his shoes.

"Son? How are you?" His father asked through the phone.

"Baba, it's good to hear your voice. I'm doing okay, tired, maybe. I just came home from training." Mesut answered, pulling of his shoes and putting them to the side. He took his phone in his hand, stretching his neck from side to side.

"I'm glad to hear that. Oğlum, listen, we have good news for you." His father said. Mesut suppressed a sigh; he had a weird feeling about how his father had said his words.

"How are you and mother? Neșe and Duygu?" Mesut asked, picking up his bag and placing it next to the stairs.

"Your mother and I are fine, your sisters are well, too, thank you. Mesut, about the good news, your mother and I recently came to a decision." His father began.

Mesut made his way over to his couch, sitting down with a frown.

"A decision? What do you mean? What kind of decision?"

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