Still Benched

The morning after the Puma meeting, Luka arrived at Dortmund's training ground, his mind still buzzing with the enormity of the deal he was about to sign. As he pushed through the glass doors into the facility, the scent of sweat and artificial turf filled his nostrils. He breathed deeply, centering himself. Today, he decided, he wouldn't let anything get to him. Not Rose, not the lingering tension, nothing.

In the locker room, Jude and Erling were already changing into their training gear.

"Morning, lads," Luka called out, forcing cheerfulness into his voice.

Jude looked up, a grin spreading across his face. "There he is! How's it going, mate?"

"Can't complain," Luka replied, opening his locker. "Though this weather is doing my head in. Raining one minute, sunny the next."

Erling chuckled, pulling on his training top. "You'll get used to it... eventually."

As they made their way out to the training pitch, Luka's eyes instinctively scanned for Rose. The coach was standing near the halfway line, deep in conversation with his assistants. Luka felt a twinge of anxiety but pushed it aside. Not today, he thought.

The team began with their usual warm-up routines. Luka focused on the stretch and pull of his muscles, the rhythm of his breathing. As they transitioned into passing drills, he found himself paired with Jude.

"So," Jude said as they knocked the ball back and forth, "you catch the United game last night?"

Luka nodded, trapping the ball under his foot. "Yeah, bit of a snooze fest, wasn't it?"

"Absolute shambles," Jude agreed. "Ole's tactics are about as exciting as watching paint dry."

They shared a laugh, the ball zipping between them with increasing speed. As they continued their drill, Luka found himself relaxing, the earlier tension melting away.

The morning wore on, filled with tactical sessions and small-sided games. Rose seemed to be giving Luka a wide berth, focusing his attention on other players. Maybe, Luka thought, they could just move past this without any more drama.

After lunch, Luka headed to the gym. As he settled into his routine, starting with some light cardio on the treadmill, Erling walked in.

"Back again, eh?" Erling grinned, heading for the weight rack. "You're becoming a regular gym rat, Zorić."

Luka chuckled, slightly out of breath. "Just trying to keep up with you monsters. Can't all be built like Norse gods, you know."

Erling laughed, loading up the bar for his squats. "Fair enough. But seriously, mate, I've noticed the difference. You're looking stronger out there."

"Thanks," Luka said, genuinely appreciative. He stepped off the treadmill, wiping his face with a towel. "Still got a long way to go, though."

As they continued their workouts, chatting about everything from their favorite cheat meals to the latest Netflix shows, Luka felt a sense of normalcy returning.

The next day passed, and before Luka knew it, it was the eve of their DFB-Pokal match against Ingolstadt. As he lay in bed that night, he couldn't shake a feeling of unease. Despite the apparent thaw in relations with Rose, something still felt off.

The next day, as the team gathered in the locker room before the match, Luka's worst fears were confirmed. When Rose announced the starting lineup, his name was conspicuously absent.

Luka felt a cold knot form in his stomach. He glanced around at his teammates, most of whom were studiously avoiding his gaze. Only Jude met his eyes, offering a sympathetic shrug.

As they filed out onto the pitch for warm-ups, Jude fell into step beside Luka. "You alright, mate?" he asked quietly.

Luka forced a smile. "Yeah, just... wasn't expecting that, I already got rested last match."

Jude nodded, understanding in his eyes. "It's bollocks, if you ask me. But hey, keep your head up. You'll get your chance."

The warm-up passed in a blur, and before Luka knew it, he was taking his place on the bench.

The match began, and from his vantage point on the bench, Luka had a perfect view of the action. Dortmund started brightly, with Haaland and Reus linking up well in the early stages. But Ingolstadt, fighting for promotion in the 2. Bundesliga, were no pushovers. Their compact, well-organized defense was proving difficult to break down.

As the first half wore on, Luka found himself increasingly agitated. He could see the spaces Ingolstadt were leaving, the runs his teammates should be making. His fingers itched to be on the ball, to make something happen.

Beside him on the bench, Jude was equally frustrated. "Look at that," he muttered as another Dortmund attack broke down. "They're so narrow. We should be stretching them, playing it wide."

Luka nodded in agreement. "It's like Ajax all over again. We're playing right into their hands."

As halftime approached, with the score still 0-0, Rose began pacing the touchline, barking instructions. Luka watched him intently, half-hoping to be called upon, half-dreading another confrontation.

The whistle blew for halftime, and the teams trudged off the pitch. In the locker room, Rose addressed the team, his face etched with frustration.

"We're making it too easy for them," he said, his voice tight with controlled anger. "We need to move the ball quicker, create more width. Haaland, I need you making more runs in behind. Reus, drop deeper to collect the ball. We break their press, we break their spirit."

Luka listened intently, biting his tongue. Everything Rose was saying, he and Jude had already discussed on the bench. He caught Jude's eye across the room, and they shared a knowing look.

As the team filed back out for the second half, Luka still felt charged. He might be on the bench, but he was determined to stay engaged, to be ready when his chance came.

The second half began much like the first, with Dortmund dominating possession but struggling to create clear-cut chances. From his seat on the bench, Luka could see the frustration building in his teammates' body language.

Luka said, his eyes fixed on the action. "Rose wants us to play through the middle to retain possession, but we're not making anything happen..."

His voice trailed off as he saw Rose glancing towards the bench. For a moment, Luka's heart leapt. But the coach's eyes skipped right over him, settling on Moukoko instead.

He was happy for Moukoko, of course. But he couldn't help the pang of disappointment that coursed through him.

On the pitch, the deadlock was finally broken. In the 68th minute, Haaland latched onto a through ball from Reus, shrugging off his marker before slotting past the Ingolstadt keeper. The stadium erupted, and Luka found himself on his feet with the rest of the bench, cheering his teammates on.

As the celebrations died down, Luka settled back onto the bench, his mind racing. One goal might not be enough. Ingolstadt would have to come out of their shell now, which could leave them vulnerable to counter-attacks. If only he were out there...

Beside him, Jude seemed to read his thoughts. "Imagine if you were out there now," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice. "You'd be having a field day with all that space."

Luka chuckled, but there was a wistfulness to it. "Yeah, well. No use thinking about what-ifs."

As the match entered its final stages, Rose made his substitutions. Moukoko came on for a tiring Reus, while Hazard replaced Brandt on the wing. Still, Luka remained on the bench.

In the 85th minute, Dortmund sealed the victory. A quick counter-attack caught Ingolstadt off guard, and Brandt found himself with space to shoot from distance. His strike was true, curling beyond the keeper's reach and into the top corner.

The stadium erupted once more, and this time Luka's celebration was wholehearted. He might not be on the pitch, but this was still his team, and they were through to the next round.

In the locker room afterwards, the atmosphere was jubilant. Luka went through the motions of congratulating his teammates, but his heart wasn't fully in it. As he showered and changed, his mind was already turning to the upcoming league matches. Would he continue to be sidelined? Or would Rose give him his deserved game time?

And that he did.

The crisp autumn air nipped at Luka's face as he stepped onto the pitch at the RheinEnergieStadion. This match against Köln was crucial - a chance to pull ahead of Leverkusen in the table and solidify their position as Bayern's main challengers.

Rose had surprised everyone by naming Luka in the starting eleven. As Luka stretched his hamstrings, he caught Jude's eye, who flashed him a thumbs up and a grin.

"Let's show 'em what they've been missing, eh?" Jude called out.

Luka nodded, a fierce determination burning in his chest. He was going to make this opportunity count.

The whistle blew, and the match kicked off. Immediately, Luka could sense something different about Dortmund's setup. Rose had opted for a back three, pushing the wingbacks high up the pitch. It was a risky strategy, especially with Hummels, Guerreiro, and Meunier all sidelined with injuries. But it also meant more space for Luka to operate in.

As Köln pushed forward in the opening minutes, Luka dropped deep to collect the ball. He felt a defender breathing down his neck, but instead of shying away from the contact, he leaned into it.

"Oi, when did you get so strong?" the Köln defender grunted, trying to reach around Luka's body.

Luka couldn't help but smile as he pivoted away, leaving the defender grasping at air. The defender wasn't exactly… the most physical fullback, yet it was good to see all his weight training had been paying off.

With the ball at his feet, Luka surveyed the pitch. Köln's midfield was compact, but there was space out wide. He feinted to his right, drawing in two defenders, before suddenly changing direction. His quick feet danced over the ball, leaving one defender stumbling. As the second closed in, Luka flicked the ball through his legs, spinning around to collect it on the other side.

Now he had space to run into. Luka accelerated, the wind whipping through his hair as he bore down on Köln's backline. He could see Haaland making a run ahead of him, dragging a defender with him. In the space that opened up, Bellingham was ghosting into the box.

Luka had a split second to make a decision. The obvious pass was to Haaland, but he was well-marked. Instead, Luka opted for the unexpected. Without breaking stride, he scooped the ball up and over the defense. For a heart-stopping moment, it looked like he'd overhit it. But then Bellingham appeared, seemingly from nowhere, to volley it first-time.

The ball whistled past the keeper's outstretched hand and into the top corner. The Dortmund fans erupted, a roar of celebration drowning out the groans of the home crowd..

The goal seemed to wake Köln up. They pressed forward with vigor, testing Dortmund's defense.

In the 24th minute, a Köln attack broke down, and suddenly Dortmund had a chance to counter. Luka received the ball just inside his own half, turned, and saw nothing but space ahead of him. He took off like a shot, the ball glued to his feet as he ate up the yards.

One defender stepped out to challenge him. Luka didn't even break stride, simply rolling the ball under his foot and pushing it to the side, leaving the defender grasping at thin air. A second defender came charging in, all physicality and desperation. Luka waited until the last possible moment before dragging the ball back with his right foot, then flicking it through with his left. The defender's momentum carried him past, and Luka was away again.

Now he was bearing down on the last line of defense. He could hear the thundering footsteps of his teammates joining the attack, could sense rather than see Haaland making a run to his right. The smart play would be to lay it off, let Haaland do what he did best.

But Luka was feeling it now. As he reached the edge of the box, he shaped to shoot. The defender and goalkeeper both shifted, anticipating the strike. But instead of shooting, Luka dragged the ball back with his right foot, then quickly pushed it forward with his left, leaving the defender stumbling.

Now he had a clear sight of goal. The angle was tight, but Luka didn't hesitate. He opened up his body and curled a shot towards the far corner. Time seemed to slow as the ball arced through the air, over the despairing dive of the keeper, and nestled into the top corner of the net.

The stadium fell silent for a split second before erupting. Luka wheeled away in celebration, his heart pounding, his ears ringing.

As he jogged back to the center circle, Luka caught sight of Rose on the touchline. The coach's face was impassive, but Luka knew that look in eyes - one of approval and respect.

The rest of the first half was a frenetic affair. Köln, stung by going two goals down, threw caution to the wind. They pressed high, looking to force mistakes from Dortmund's backline.

In the 40th minute, Dortmund won a free kick just outside the box. Normally, this would be Reus's territory, but with the captain on the bench, Luka stepped up. As he placed the ball, he could hear the Köln players setting up their wall, the keeper barking orders.

Luka took a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand.

He took three steps back, then two to the side. The referee's whistle pierced the air. Luka started his run-up, his eyes fixed on the ball. He could see in his peripheral vision the Köln wall jumping, the keeper shifting his weight.

At the last moment, Luka changed his angle of approach. Instead of going for power, he focused on precision. His foot connected with the ball, imparting just the right amount of spin. The ball arced over the wall, dipping and swerving in the air.

For a heart-stopping moment, it looked like it might be going wide. But then it began to curl, evading the keeper's desperate lunge. Luka held his breath as the ball clipped the underside of the crossbar and bounced down.

For a split second, no one was sure if it had crossed the line. Then the referee's whistle blew, and the linesman's flag went up. Goal.

Luka was engulfed by his teammates once again. "Bloody hell, mate," Jude grinned, shaking his head in amazement. "Save some for the rest of us, yeah?"

Jude's words brought a grin to Luka's face as they jogged back to their positions. The rest of the match passed without much incident, Dortmund comfortably maintaining their 3-0 lead until the final whistle.

As the team made their way down the tunnel, the euphoria of victory still buzzing in the air, Luka felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Lisa Wörner from Sky Sports Germany.

"Luka! Great game out there. Mind if we have a quick chat?" Lisa asked, her eyes bright with excitement.

Luka nodded, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "Sure, Lisa. Fire away."

Lisa fell into step beside him as they walked. "So, Luka, another incredible performance today. You've been on quite a run lately. How are you feeling about your form?"

Luka chuckled, running a hand through his damp hair. "Honestly? It feels surreal. I'm just trying to take it one game at a time, you know?"

"I can imagine," Lisa nodded. "But surely you must be aware of some of the records you're breaking? You've just broken the record for most goal contributions in the first 9 Bundesliga games of a season? You're at 13 now - 5 goals and 8 assists. The previous record was 12, held by Robert Lewandowski."."

Luka's eyebrows shot up. "Really? I had no idea. That's... wow."

Lisa laughed. "You sound surprised! What about being the first under-21 player to score or assist in 9 consecutive Bundesliga games? Or averaging the most completed dribbles in Europe's top 5 leagues?"

"Now you're just making stuff up," Luka joked.

"I promise I'm not," Lisa grinned. "In fact, if we look at all competitions, your numbers are rivaling peak Messi and Ronaldo. In all competitions, you're at 33 goal contributions in 18 games. That's a rate of 1.83 per game. For context, Lionel Messi's best-ever season saw him average 1.77 per game. Cristiano Ronaldo's best was 1.56. That's got to feel pretty special, right?"

Luka shook his head, it was clear he was amazed by what he was hearing. "I think those world cup qualifiers are boosting those numbers quite a bit, but still, it's an honor to even be mentioned in the same sentence as those legends. ."

They reached the locker room entrance, and Luka paused, turning to face Lisa fully.

"One last thing," Lisa said. "At your current rate, you're on track to break the Bundesliga record for most goal contributions in a single season. Any thoughts on that?"

Luka laughed, shaking his head. "It's a long season, and anything can happen."

<>

New Fic Out. As Snow Falls.

Should the story progression be quickened.