Nightlife

Luka leaned his head against the cool glass of the car window, watching the streets of Dortmund pass by in a blur. 

His new Puma Future Z 1.2 boots sat in the bag at his feet, with some customizations they were designed specifically for his playing style and ankle support needs. A small smile tugged at his lips as he remembered the photoshoot, the excitement of the Puma team, the pride in his father's eyes. 

The deal was massive - the biggest ever for a teenager. Millions of dollars that would change his family's life. His parents in their new house, his sister in a top private school... it was everything he'd dreamed of providing for them. Yet the money would remain distant for now, locked away in future earnings. For now, he was still just Luka with 50k to his name.

The qualification for the World Cup with Croatia should have been the cherry on top of an incredible week. And it was, in many ways. The joy of securing their spot in Qatar was undeniable. But his own performance in the Russia game nagged at him. No goals, no assists. 

As the car turned onto the street leading to his apartment, Luka's mind shifted to the challenges ahead. Stuttgart, Sporting, Wolfsburg, Bayern, Bochum, Greuther Fürth, Hertha Berlin. A gauntlet of matches leading up to the winter break that would define Dortmund's season - and his future. 

The Champions League games loomed largest in his mind. Sporting and Besiktas. Must-win matches if they wanted to reach the second position, first was out of reach as Ajax surely had it in the bag.

Luka grabbed his bag as the car came to a stop, thanking the driver before heading into his building. He tossed his bag onto the couch and walked to the window, gazing out at the city he'd called home for the past few months.

The sky was already darkening, but Luka felt restless, full of pent-up energy that needed an outlet.

Without much deliberation, he changed into his workout gear and headed to the club's training facility. At this hour, it would be quiet, just the way he liked it.

Luka began his routine, the movements now second nature after months of dedicated training. As he went through his warm-up, he couldn't help but notice the changes in his body. He was stronger now, more defined than he had been just three months ago. His chest had developed nicely, and his arms were noticeably bigger. It wasn't just aesthetics either - he could feel the difference on the pitch, in his strenght, his endurance.

His ankle was improving too. The exercises Dr. Braun had prescribed were working wonders. Luka smiled. It was one of the things he truly appreciated about Dortmund - they never pushed him too hard, always giving his body the time it needed to develop properly.

As Luka moved to the bench press, setting up for his first set, the weight of the bar felt good in his hands as he began his reps.

Real Madrid floated through his mind. As much as playing for the legendary seemed appealing… there was something simply… off about it.

Manchester City came next. Guardiola's ability as a manager was undeniable, and the trophies were almost guaranteed plus he would likely fit in on the wing. But as Luka switched to dumbbell flye, he frowned slightly. He wanted to make a real impact, not just be along for the ride.

His muscles burned pleasantly as he moved on to shoulder presses. Arsenal was a interesting prospect on the other end. An exciting young team on the rise, with a manager who believed in developing talent. It certainly was a appealing option.

Liverpool...that option felt somewhat unstable.

As Luka finished his upper body workout and moved to some core exercises, he realized he was still at square one. He knew which clubs he didn't want - PSG, Chelsea, Manchester United, Juventus, Atlético, Inter Milan were all off the table for various reasons. But pinpointing where he did want to go? That was proving far more difficult.

Lying on the mat, working through a series of crunches, Luka acknowledged to himself that money wasn't the driving factor. What mattered was finding a club that would allow him to become the best version of himself, both as a player and as a person. Dortmund had been that place in many ways but his game time should have been increasing by now. Unless things changed...

Luka shook his head, pushing the thought away as he gathered his things and headed for the showers. The hot water soothed his muscles, but did little to quiet his restless mind.

Back in his apartment, freshly showered and changed, Luka found himself staring out the window again. Despite the hobbies he'd picked up - reading, learning about investing and finance - he was still often bored. Lonely.

Nights spent playing FIFA or hanging out at Jude's place were fun, but they weren't enough. He needed something more, something different. His eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. It wasn't too late. A thought began to form in his mind, exciting and a little scary.

Why not go out? Experience the Dortmund nightlife he'd heard so much about but never really explored?

Luka grabbed his jacket and headed out. The cool night air hit his face as he stepped onto the street. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever the night might bring.

As he walked down the bustling streets of Dortmund's city center, Luka couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed. The sights, sounds, and smells of the nightlife were intoxicating, so different from his usual quiet evenings at home. He found himself both drawn to and intimidated by the lively atmosphere.

It didn't take long for someone to recognize him. A group of young men, probably in their early twenties, spotted him as he passed by a popular bar.

"Hey! Isn't that Luka Zorić?" one of them called out.

Luka felt his heart rate spike as heads began to turn in his direction. He managed a small smile and a wave, hoping that would be enough to satisfy their curiosity. But it was just the beginning.

Within moments, he was surrounded by a growing crowd of excited fans. Smartphones appeared as if by magic, flashes going off as people clamored for pictures. The introvert in Luka wanted to retreat, to find a quiet corner and disappear, but he knew that wasn't an option.

"Kann ich ein Foto machen?" a young woman asked, her phone already poised for a selfie.

Luka's German was still far from perfect, but he understood the request. "Ja, natürlich," he replied, his voice barely audible over the excited chatter around him.

As he posed for picture after picture, signed scraps of paper, and shook hands, Luka felt his energy draining. This wasn't what he had in mind when he decided to explore the city. He just wanted to relax, to walk around and see the sights, maybe chat with a few locals. But now he felt like an exhibit in a zoo, everyone vying for a piece of him.

After what felt like an eternity but was probably only fifteen minutes, Luka decided he needed to extricate himself from the situation. His German might not be perfect, but he had to try.

"Entschuldigung," he began, raising his voice slightly to be heard. "Ich... ich möchte gerne in Frieden gelassen werden. Bitte."

His request for peace was met with understanding nods and disappointed murmurs. A few people backed away, but others seemed emboldened by his attempt at communication.

Just as Luka was considering making a hasty retreat back to his apartment, a deep voice cut through the crowd.

"Alright, folks, let's give the man some space."

Luka looked up to see a burly bouncer from a nearby club making his way through the throng of people. The man's presence seemed to have an immediate effect, as the crowd began to disperse.

"You alright there, kid?" the bouncer asked in accented English, placing a protective hand on Luka's shoulder.

Luka nodded, grateful for the intervention. "Yes, thank you. I just... I wanted to see the city."

The bouncer chuckled. "Yeah, I get it. Not easy being a celebrity in a football-crazy town. Come on, I'll walk with you for a bit, keep the vultures at bay."

As they walked down the street, Luka felt himself relaxing a bit. The bouncer, who introduced himself as Klaus, kept a watchful eye out, deterring any overzealous fans with a stern look.

"So, what brings you out tonight?" Klaus asked as they strolled.

Luka shrugged. "I've been in Dortmund for months now, but I've never really seen the city. Always training, or resting, or... I don't know. I guess I just wanted to feel normal for a night."

Klaus nodded understandingly. "Well, normal might be a stretch, but we can try to show you a good time. You drink?"

Luka shook his head. "No, I follow a strict diet. No alcohol, no junk food."

"Ah, the Ronaldo method," Klaus said with a knowing smile. "Respect, kid. Alright, let's find you something fun that won't mess with your training."

They continued down the street, Klaus pointing out various landmarks and sharing bits of Dortmund history. Luka found himself genuinely enjoying the impromptu tour, asking questions and soaking in the atmosphere of the city he called home.

As they passed a small, cozy-looking café, the aroma of freshly baked pretzels wafted out. Luka's stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since his post-workout meal.

"How about a pretzel?" Klaus suggested, noticing Luka's interest. "They're a German classic, and I'm pretty sure they fit into your diet."

Luka hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, why not? A small one should be fine."

They entered the café, the warm air enveloping them. The woman behind the counter did a double-take when she saw Luka, but to her credit, she maintained her professional demeanor.

"Guten Abend," Luka said, proud of his growing German vocabulary. "Ein kleines Brezel, bitte."

The woman smiled, clearly appreciating his effort. "Natürlich. Möchten Sie etwas zu trinken?"

Luka looked to Klaus for translation. 

"She's asking if you want something to drink," Klaus explained.

"Ah, just water, please," Luka replied. "Nur Wasser, bitte," he added in German.

As they waited for the pretzel, Luka noticed a few people in the café sneaking glances at him. But unlike the crowd on the street, they seemed content to observe from a distance, respecting his privacy.

When the pretzel arrived, still warm from the oven, Luka took a bite and couldn't help but smile. It was delicious, the perfect blend of soft and chewy, with just the right amount of salt.

"Good?" Klaus asked, grinning at Luka's obvious enjoyment.

"Very," Luka replied between bites. "I can see why these are so popular."

As they left the café, Luka felt more relaxed than he had all evening. The initial frenzy seemed to have died down, and while people still recognized him, they were less aggressive in their approach.

They continued their walk, with Klaus pointing out various nightclubs and bars. "I know you're not drinking," he said, "but it's good to know where the hotspots are. You never know when you might need to entertain visiting friends or teammates."

Luka nodded, taking mental notes. As they passed one particularly trendy-looking club, a group of young women exited, giggling and chatting animatedly. One of them, a stunning blonde, locked eyes with Luka and did a double-take.

"Oh my god," she exclaimed in English, nudging her friends. "You're Luka Zorić!"

Luka felt his cheeks heat up as the women approached. He was used to attention on the pitch, but this kind of social interaction still made him nervous.

"Hi," he managed, giving a small wave.

The blonde smiled brightly. "We're huge fans! Would you maybe want to join us for a drink? Or... or give me your number?"

Luka felt a moment of panic. She was attractive, no doubt, and part of him was tempted. But he knew better than to get entangled in that kind of situation. Plus, the idea of giving out his personal number made him uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to sound polite. "I don't give out my number. But thank you for the support."

The women looked disappointed but nodded understandingly. As they walked away, Luka heard one of them whisper, "God, he's even cuter in person!"

Klaus chuckled as they continued walking. "You'll get used to that," he said. "Just remember, never, ever give out your real number."

Luka nodded, grateful for the advice. As they turned a corner, they found themselves in a small square with a beautiful old church at its center. Despite the late hour, the church's doors were open, warm light spilling out onto the cobblestones.

Luka felt drawn to the church, memories of his childhood flooding back. He wasn't particularly devout, but the familiar sight of a church brought a sense of comfort.

"Mind if we stop for a moment?" Luka asked Klaus.

The bouncer nodded. "Take your time, kid. I'll wait out here."

Luka entered the church quietly, the sounds of the city fading away as he stepped inside. The interior was beautiful, all soaring arches and stained glass. A few candles flickered at the front, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

He made his way to a pew near the front, sitting down and closing his eyes. For the first time that night, Luka felt truly at peace.

Luka wasn't sure how long he sat there, lost in thought and prayer. When he finally opened his eyes, he felt refreshed, centered. He lit a candle before leaving, a small gesture of gratitude for the moment of peace.

As he exited the church, he found Klaus waiting patiently.

"Feel better?" the bouncer asked.

Luka nodded. "Much. Thank you for... well, for taking the time out of your day."

Klaus smiled. "No problem, kid. It's getting late, though. You should probably think about heading home soon."

As they made their way back towards Luka's neighborhood, the streets grew quieter. The late-night crowd was thinning out, replaced by the occasional group of revelers heading home or to their next destination.

They passed a small park, where a group of teenagers were kicking a football around, the thud of the ball echoing in the night air. One of them spotted Luka and froze mid-kick.

"Guys, look!" he shouted in German. "It's Zorić!"

The group approached cautiously, clearly excited but trying to contain themselves. Luka braced himself for another onslaught of photo requests, but to his surprise, the teenagers were remarkably composed.

"We don't want to bother you," one of them said in halting English. "But... could you maybe show us a trick?"

Luka glanced at Klaus, who shrugged as if to say, "It's up to you."

After a moment's hesitation, Luka nodded. "Okay, one trick."

The teenagers cheered as one of them passed him the ball. Luka took a deep breath, focusing on the feel of the ball at his feet. Then, with a quick flick, he sent the ball soaring up, caught it on the back of his neck, rolled it down his spine, and flicked it back up with his heel, catching it smoothly on his foot.

The teens erupted in applause and excited chatter. Luka couldn't help but smile. For a moment, he remembered why he loved football so much – for moments like this, the pure joy of the game.