אל תקרא

by QXCVBNGRTFS

הופסק

5. Chapter 5

As the plane soared through the skies toward Rome, Alessandro found himself bored despite all the excitement around him. With a sigh, he scrolled through the in-flight entertainment system until he landed on a classic football film—Goal II: Living the Dream.

A small smirk formed on his face as he selected it. The movie followed Santiago Muñez, a young footballer who moved to Real Madrid after making a name for himself at Newcastle United.

"A kid transferring to Madrid and trying to prove himself? Sounds kinda familiar," Alessandro mused.

He put on his headphones and got immersed in the story, watching Santiago struggle with the pressure, adapt to his superstar teammates, and slowly find his place at the biggest club in the world.

As he reached a particularly intense scene, a voice suddenly interrupted his focus.

"You do realize you're basically him right now, yeah?"

Alessandro nearly jumped out of his seat. Turning to his side, he saw Marco Verratti, who he thought had been sleeping the whole time, watching the screen with a knowing smirk.

"Dio mio! I thought you were asleep!" Alessandro chuckled, removing one earbud.

Verratti shrugged. "I was, but then I woke up and saw you watching this." He pointed at the screen. "Young talent moves to Madrid, trying to make it among the best. Remind you of someone?"

Alessandro leaned back, shaking his head with a laugh. "Yeah, yeah… I see the resemblance."

Verratti nudged him. "Just make sure your story ends better than his, eh?"

Alessandro smirked. "Don't worry. I plan to."

With that, he pressed play, feeling even more motivated to make his own dream a reality.

Alessandro turned to Verratti, raising an eyebrow. "Wait, what do you mean? What happens to him?"

Verratti smirked, stretching a little in his seat. "You haven't seen the third movie, have you?"

Alessandro shook his head. "Nah, I only ever watched the first one when I was a kid. Never got around to the rest."

Verratti chuckled. "Well, let's just say… it didn't end how people wanted. He barely even plays in the third film."

Alessandro's face twisted in confusion. "Wait, what? He's the main character! What do you mean he barely plays?"

Verratti sighed. "Man, it's a mess. In Goal 3, he gets injured before the World Cup and spends most of the movie watching from the sidelines while the focus is on two random English players instead."

Alessandro blinked. "No way… you're joking."

Verratti shook his head. "Nope. They completely sidelined him. He never really gets his big moment in the World Cup, and the movie just kinda… ends."

Alessandro stared at the screen, suddenly hesitant to continue watching. "Damn. That's depressing."

Verratti shrugged. "Exactly why I told you to make sure your story ends better than his."

Alessandro leaned back, crossing his arms. "Well, I'm not planning on being a side character in my own story, that's for sure."

Verratti laughed. "That's the spirit. Just stay fit, work hard, and make sure nobody writes you out of your own career."

Alessandro smirked, pressing play again. "Don't worry. I'll make sure my Goal 3 has a better ending."

Alessandro glanced at Verratti as the movie played. "Alright, but what about his love life? Did he at least get a happy ending there?"

Verratti exhaled, shaking his head. "Not really, mate. In Goal 1, he had that nice relationship with Roz, the nurse. They were in love, and she was always there for him, keeping him grounded."

Alessandro nodded. "Yeah, I remember that. She seemed like a real one."

Verratti continued. "In Goal 2, though, things got complicated. He let fame get to his head, got distracted by models, and started messing up. He and Roz broke up."

Alessandro frowned. "Damn. So, what—did they get back together in Goal 3?"

Verratti sighed. "Nope. Roz barely even appears in the third movie. She just sends him a letter, and that's it. They never reunite."

Alessandro's face twisted in disbelief. "Wait, so he loses the girl and barely plays in the World Cup? Man, they really did my guy dirty."

Verratti smirked. "Pretty much. That's why I said—make sure your story turns out better than his."

Alessandro leaned back, rubbing his chin. "I mean, I don't even have a Roz in my life. Just a bunch of people who either want my fame or give me mixed signals."

Verratti chuckled. "Then maybe the lesson here is to find someone who actually sees you for who you are, not what you are."

Alessandro exhaled, staring at the clouds outside the plane window. "Easier said than done."

Verratti grinned. "Hey, you're Alessandro Inzaghi. If anyone can figure it out, it's you."

Alessandro smirked and nudged Verratti. "Alright, enough about my love life—or lack of one. What about you? You got a girl, Marco? Or maybe a cousin? A sister? I mean, I just want to be careful of the sharks, bro. Plus, I'd make a great brother-in-law. I make a killer pasta."

Verratti burst out laughing, shaking his head. "Man, you're unbelievable. First, I do have a girlfriend. Second, I don't have a sister. And third, my cousins? I don't think they'd be able to handle someone like you."

Alessandro raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Verratti smirked. "You're Alessandro Inzaghi. You've got girls throwing themselves at you every day. My cousins are normal. I don't need them getting caught up in the madness of dating a Galáctico."

Alessandro feigned offense. "Come on, Marco. I'm not that bad. I'd treat her like a queen. Cook her pasta, take her to nice places, keep her away from the craziness."

Verratti shook his head with a grin. "Nah, bro. I like you, but I'm not risking my family."

Alessandro sighed dramatically. "Guess I'm doomed to a life of groupies and gold diggers."

Verratti chuckled. "Or, you know, you could try dating a normal girl. Just saying."

Alessandro leaned back, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. Easier said than done."

Alessandro leaned back in his seat, shaking his head with a playful smirk. "So what you're telling me is... you're actively rejecting me from finding normalcy? Man, that's cold, Marco. Here I am, just a simple guy looking for something real, and you're out here gatekeeping normal women from me."

Verratti chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, come on, Ale. Don't try to guilt-trip me. You know damn well you don't need my help to find someone."

Alessandro crossed his arms. "That's where you're wrong. You don't get it, man. I step outside, and suddenly I'm surrounded by girls who see me as a walking contract, not a person. Meanwhile, your cousins are living peaceful, normal lives, and you won't even give me a shot at finding peace."

Verratti laughed. "You're so dramatic. Look, it's not that I don't want you to be happy. I just don't want my family getting involved in the chaos that comes with being Alessandro Inzaghi. You're a great guy, but the spotlight is huge."

Alessandro sighed, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Guess I'll have to keep searching. Maybe I should just put out a PSA: 'World-class footballer seeking normal girl for pasta nights and deep conversations. Must not be a shark.'"

Verratti grinned. "Hey, you never know. That might actually work."

Alessandro chuckled, staring out the plane window. "Yeah, well... until then, it's just me and the game."

As the movie continued, Alessandro watched as Santiago Munez, the protagonist, started making questionable decisions regarding his relationship with Roz. The more he watched, the more frustrated he became.

"Ah, come on, man… really?" Alessandro muttered under his breath, shaking his head as Santiago got caught up in the distractions of fame, neglecting Roz in the process.

Verratti, who had been half-watching over his shoulder, smirked. "Told you, bro. Footballers and relationships? Not easy."

Alessandro scoffed. "Yeah, but he had a real one, and he just let it slip like that? Stupid. If I ever find a Roz, I'm not making these mistakes."

Verratti chuckled. "We all say that until we're in the moment."

Alessandro leaned back with a sigh. "Nah. If I find a woman who sees me for who I am and not for the name or the money, I'm locking that down. No distractions, no messing around."

Verratti shook his head. "I'll remind you of this conversation in a few years."

Alessandro smirked. "Yeah, yeah. You do that." He then refocused on the movie, but deep down, he couldn't shake the thought—what if he never found someone like Roz?

As the movie played on, Alessandro found himself lost in thought. His mind drifted, and suddenly, he wasn't just watching Goal 2—he was living it.

In his imagination, it wasn't Santiago Munez walking through Madrid's bustling streets with Roz—it was him. Alessandro pictured himself beside her, a woman who genuinely cared for him, someone who didn't see him as just "Alessandro Inzaghi, the football star," but as a man beyond the pitch.

He saw himself coming home from training to find her waiting for him, a warm smile on her face. He imagined quiet moments—cooking together, late-night drives through Madrid, or even just sitting on the couch, talking about anything but football. A normal life, one that fame often denied him.

But as reality set back in, he exhaled sharply and blinked, shaking off the daydream. He glanced at Verratti, who was scrolling through his phone, oblivious to Alessandro's moment of fantasy.

"Damn," he muttered to himself, leaning back against the seat. Maybe he was longing for something he couldn't have. Maybe it was just the movie getting to him.

Or maybe, just maybe, he truly wanted what Santiago and Roz had—something real.

As the movie continued playing, Alessandro found himself deep in thought. Maybe finding love wasn't about luck or timing. Maybe he had been looking in the wrong places.

He thought back to his childhood, to the Sundays when his father would take him to church in Piacenza. It was one of the few places where life felt simple, where people weren't blinded by wealth or fame. He hadn't been to church in a long time, but maybe that was the place where he could find someone genuine.

A woman who valued faith, family, and love over status. Someone who wouldn't see him as just a footballer, but as a man with dreams, fears, and hopes beyond the game.

He exhaled softly and smirked to himself. "Imagine that," he thought. "Meeting my future wife at church."

It was a long shot, but at least there, he wouldn't have to worry about the 'sharks.'

After arriving back in Madrid and bidding farewell to his Azzurri teammates, Alessandro found himself deep in thought as he sat in the backseat of his SUV. The international break had gone perfectly—Italy had won all their matches, and he had played a key role in each victory. But even with all his success on the pitch, his mind kept drifting back to something else.

Pulling out his phone, he called his father, Filippo, who answered after a few rings.

"Alessandro! Back in Madrid already?" Filippo greeted warmly.

"Yeah, just landed," Alessandro replied before getting straight to the point. "Hey, do you think it's possible to find love at church?"

Filippo chuckled. "What's this all of a sudden? You thinking of becoming a priest?"

"No, Dad, I'm serious," Alessandro sighed. "Like, if I went in disguise, on some 'Beauty and the Beast' timing, do you think I'd meet someone who actually likes me for me? No fame, no money, just… me?"

There was a short pause before Filippo responded. "That's an interesting way to look at it. If you really want to meet someone genuine, church is definitely a better place than nightclubs or celebrity parties. But you'd have to commit to it. No slipping up, no letting the disguise fall apart. Think you can handle that?"

Alessandro leaned back in his seat, staring out at the Madrid skyline. "I don't know… but I think it's worth a shot."

Determined to go through with his plan, Alessandro scrolled through his contacts before calling up someone who specialized in disguises—an expert makeup artist who had worked with celebrities to help them go incognito.

After a few rings, a raspy yet professional voice answered. "Hello?"

"Hey, I need your help," Alessandro said, lowering his tone as if someone could be listening. "I need to be transformed into… well, a guy that isn't Alessandro Inzaghi."

A chuckle came from the other end. "You want to go undercover, huh? Alright, I can make that happen. What are we talking about? New hair, new face, maybe some glasses? Beard? You wanna be ugly or just unrecognizable?"

Alessandro smirked. "Not ugly. Just… normal. A guy you'd pass by on the street and not look twice at."

"Alright, I'll make you a ghost," the artist promised. "Come by my studio tomorrow, and we'll get started."

Hanging up the call, Alessandro leaned back on his couch, exhaling. He was really going to do this. For the first time in his life, he was about to step into the world as someone who wasn't Alessandro Inzaghi—the football star, the Golden Boy, the next Galáctico.

Just a regular guy looking for something real.

Arriving at the makeup artist's studio, Alessandro sat patiently as the transformation began. His famous features—sharp cheekbones, striking eyes, and that signature footballer glow—were carefully dulled down.

His golden brown hair was darkened to a chestnut brown and cut slightly shorter. A light layer of facial stubble was applied, just enough to change the contours of his face. Contact lenses softened his usual piercing gaze, and a simple, non-designer outfit completed the look.

When he finally looked in the mirror, even he was surprised. "Damn… I'd walk past myself."

The artist grinned. "Told you. Now go enjoy being a nobody."

Instead of heading to one of the grand, widely attended churches in Madrid—where the upper class and media might still recognize him—Alessandro chose a small, humble church in a less expensive part of the city.

It was a Friday afternoon, meaning the church wasn't crowded. A few elderly women sat near the front, whispering quiet prayers. A man in work clothes sat with his hands folded, deep in thought. A young woman lit a candle near the altar, her head slightly bowed.

Alessandro took a deep breath and stepped inside, feeling an unusual sense of calm. Here, no one was waiting to take a picture with him. No one whispered his name.

For the first time in years, he was just another person walking through the doors of a church.

Sitting quietly in one of the pews, Alessandro took in the peaceful silence of the small church. The soft flickering of candlelight, the faint scent of old wood and incense—it was a far cry from the roaring stadiums and flashing cameras he was used to.

After a few moments of contemplation, he stood up and made his way to the confessional booth. He hesitated for a second before stepping inside, closing the small wooden door behind him.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," he began, his voice low but steady.

The priest's voice on the other side was calm and gentle. "What troubles you, my son?"

Alessandro exhaled, running a hand through his freshly dyed hair. "I… I think I came here for the wrong reasons. I thought maybe… I could find love in a place like this. But isn't that a sin? To come to church not for faith, but for my own desires?"

The priest was silent for a moment before responding. "The church welcomes all who seek something, my son. Whether it be faith, forgiveness… or even love."

Alessandro swallowed. "I just… I want something real, Father. Every woman I meet only sees Alessandro Inzaghi, the footballer, the millionaire, the celebrity. They don't see me. I don't even know if I exist outside of football anymore."

His voice grew quieter. "And I've tried… but every time, it's like they're in love with an idea, not with me. I want to be loved for who I am, not for what I am."

The priest listened carefully before responding. "True love, the kind you seek, is not found by searching for it. It is something that reveals itself when the time is right. But love built on honesty will always be stronger than one built on deception. Are you prepared to be truly seen, my son?"

Alessandro leaned his head back against the wooden booth. "I don't know."

The priest spoke softly. "Then perhaps, for now, you should focus on being at peace with yourself. Love has a way of finding those who are ready for it."

Alessandro nodded, even though the priest couldn't see him. He didn't have an answer, but at least, for the first time in a long time, he felt like someone had truly listened.

As Alessandro stepped out of the confessional, his mind still heavy with the priest's words, he barely had time to react before—thud!—he bumped into someone.

"Oh!" A soft gasp escaped from the person he had collided with.

Stumbling back slightly, Alessandro looked up and found himself face to face with a young woman, around his age. She had warm brown eyes, long dark hair tied back into a simple braid, and a book clutched to her chest. She was dressed modestly, but there was an effortless elegance about her.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," Alessandro quickly apologized, his voice instinctively dropping into a softer tone.

The girl shook her head, offering a small, kind smile. "No, it's alright. I shouldn't have been standing so close to the confessional."

There was a moment of silence between them, and Alessandro suddenly felt strangely self-conscious. It was rare for him to talk to a woman without the usual expectations of fame, wealth, or football looming over him.

She tilted her head slightly, looking at him with curiosity. "I haven't seen you here before. Are you new to this parish?"

Alessandro hesitated. He was still in disguise, after all. "Uh… yeah, something like that. I just wanted some peace."

The girl nodded in understanding. "I get that. My father always says the church is a place for those seeking something, whether they realize it or not."

Alessandro blinked. "Your father?"

She gestured toward the confessional booth he had just exited. "The priest you just spoke to. He's my father."

Alessandro's eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. "Oh… wow."

She chuckled at his reaction. "People don't usually expect priests to have families, but my father was married before he took his vows. My mother passed away when I was young."

Alessandro felt a pang in his chest. "I'm sorry to hear that… I lost my mother too."

She looked at him with a softer expression now, as if she understood something deeper about him.

For the first time in a long time, Alessandro wasn't speaking to someone who wanted something from him. She didn't know who he was. To her, he was just a guy who had come to church looking for something.

Extending her hand, she smiled. "I'm Isabella."

Alessandro hesitated for a brief second before shaking her hand. He couldn't tell her his real name—not yet.

"Nice to meet you, Isabella," he said. "I'm… Alex."

The priest stepped out of the communion box, stretching his shoulders as he took a deep breath. The weight of listening to confessions, even from those seeking solace rather than absolution, could be heavy. But today was different—he had listened to a young man burdened not by guilt, but by the simple desire to find love in a world where he felt he could trust no one.

As he turned towards the pews, he was surprised to see his daughter standing there, engaged in conversation with the very man who had just confessed his troubles. He didn't interrupt right away—his daughter was smiling, and the boy, who had introduced himself as Alex, had a relaxed but genuine expression on his face. There was something about him, something familiar, yet unplaceable.

"You come here often?" the girl asked, a teasing smile on her lips.

"Not as much as I should," Alessandro—Alex—admitted with a small chuckle. "But… maybe I will from now on."

The girl raised an eyebrow, catching the hint of something behind his words. "Oh? And why's that?"

"Well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "this place seems… peaceful. And peaceful places are hard to find."

She nodded, understanding. "I get that. My dad's been preaching here for years, and even though it's small, it's home."

Alex smiled at her sincerity. He could already tell that she was different from the girls he had encountered before—the ones who only saw the fame, the money, the reputation. Here, in this quiet little church, none of that mattered.

The priest finally decided to step forward, clearing his throat slightly. "I see you two are getting acquainted."

The girl turned toward him. "Oh! Papa, this is Alex. He's new here."

"Ah, Alex," the priest said, studying him closely. "It's good to see a young man seeking answers in the right places."

Alex nodded respectfully. "Your words really helped, Father. Thank you."

The priest smiled but still looked at him with curiosity, as if sensing there was more to him than he let on. "I hope you find what you're looking for, son."

Alex glanced at the girl beside him, his lips pressing together for a moment before he gave a small, genuine smile. "Yeah… me too."

The priest smiled at Alex, but there was a thoughtful look in his eyes, as if he was trying to place where he might've seen him before. The young man seemed sincere, and though his face wasn't entirely familiar, there was something about his posture and presence that suggested he was used to being looked at—but not necessarily known.

"So, Alex," the priest said, folding his hands in front of him. "What brought you to this little church on a Friday?"

Alex hesitated for a moment, glancing at the priest's daughter before giving a small chuckle. "Would you believe me if I said fate?"

The girl smirked. "That's vague. And kind of dramatic."

Alex laughed softly, shaking his head. "Alright, alright… I guess I just wanted to get away from everything for a bit. Somewhere quiet."

She nodded in understanding. "That's rare in Madrid. People always seem to be in a rush to go somewhere, do something."

He exhaled. "Yeah… and sometimes, you don't even know if where you're going is the right place."

The priest's daughter tilted her head slightly, studying him. "That sounds like someone who's looking for something."

Alex looked at her for a moment, then gave a small, almost self-conscious nod. "Maybe. Maybe I am."

The priest, listening closely, nodded wisely. "Seeking can be a beautiful thing, but sometimes, what we are searching for is already right in front of us."

Alex considered that. "That's deep, Father."

The priest chuckled. "Years of practice."

The girl turned to Alex with a teasing smile. "You don't seem like the type to be wandering into random churches, though. What do you do?"

Alex hesitated. He wasn't sure if he wanted to lie, but he also didn't want to tell the full truth—not yet. "I… travel a lot. Work keeps me moving."

She raised an eyebrow. "Mysterious. Are you a secret agent?"

Alex grinned. "Something like that."

The priest gave his daughter a knowing look. "Let the man keep his secrets, my dear. Not everyone wants to be known right away."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Alright, alright. But I'm calling it now—you have a story, Alex."

He smirked. "Don't we all?"

For the first time in a long time, Alessandro felt something different—genuine curiosity, not from someone who wanted something from him, but from someone simply interested in knowing who he was. And for the first time, he wanted to take his time revealing it.

Alex's eyes flickered to the book the priest's daughter was holding. Its cover was slightly worn, its spine creased from use. He tilted his head slightly, intrigued.

"What are you reading?" he asked.

Isabella glanced down at the book in her hands as if she'd forgotten she was holding it. "Oh, this?" She turned it so he could see the title. El Amor en los Tiempos del Cólera by Gabriel García Márquez.

"Love in the Time of Cholera," Alex mused, recognizing it. "A classic."

"You've read it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He hesitated before shaking his head. "Not really. I've heard about it, though."

She smiled. "It's one of my favorites. My mother loved Márquez. She passed it down to me."

Alex's expression softened. He understood that sentiment all too well. "It's about love, right?"

Isabella nodded, her fingers brushing the edges of the pages. "Yes, but not just love. It's about patience, longing… the kind of love that withstands time, distance, and even other people." She glanced at him. "It's tragic in some ways, but also beautiful."

He hummed in thought. "Sounds intense."

She smirked. "It is, but that's what makes it so compelling. The story follows Florentino Ariza, who loves a woman, Fermina Daza, for most of his life. Even when she marries another man, he never stops loving her. He waits for decades."

Alex's brows furrowed. "Decades?"

She nodded. "Fifty years, more or less."

Alex let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. "That's insane."

Isabella smiled at his reaction. "Why? You don't believe in that kind of love?"

Alex leaned back slightly, thinking. "I don't know. I guess I've never really seen it."

She tilted her head, studying him. "Never?"

He hesitated before giving a small, almost bitter laugh. "I mean, my father… he lost my mother before I was even born. He never remarried. Maybe that's a kind of love that endures, but it's different."

Her expression softened. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "It was a long time ago."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between them. Then, Isabella flipped through the pages of her book thoughtfully.

"I think love is different for everyone," she said finally. "Some people wait forever. Some people move on. Some people never find it."

Alex tapped his fingers against the wooden bench beside him. "And you? What do you think?"

She smiled slightly, but it was laced with a kind of quiet confidence. "I think love finds you when you least expect it."

Alex blinked, caught off guard by her words.

"That's a bold statement," he said.

She shrugged. "Maybe. But I like to believe in things."

He watched her for a moment, the way she spoke so naturally, without trying to impress or pretend. It was refreshing.

"I wish I could think like that," he admitted.

She laughed lightly. "Maybe you just haven't had a reason to yet."

The priest, who had been quietly observing their conversation, finally spoke again. "It seems you two have much to discuss. Perhaps another time, over a proper conversation?"

Isabella smiled at her father before turning back to Alex. "I'm usually here on Fridays. If you ever want to talk about books—or anything else."

Alex smirked slightly. "Noted."

As he left the church, he realized something strange. He had come here searching for something, and while he still didn't know exactly what it was, for the first time in a while, he felt like he might have found a piece of it.

Arriving at the makeup artist's studio, Alessandro—still under his alias as Alex—leaned against the doorframe and gave a small smirk.

"I think you'll be seeing more of me," he said.

The makeup artist, a middle-aged man with sharp eyes and a cigarette resting in an ashtray, raised an eyebrow. "Oh? The disguise worked, then?"

Alessandro nodded. "Yeah… more than I expected."

The artist leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the wooden table. "So, what's the plan? You wanna make this a regular thing?"

Alessandro exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "As much as I'd like to, I'm a footballer first. My schedule is unpredictable. But when I can, on some Fridays, I'd like to book you. Same disguise."

The artist chuckled. "Falling into some double life, huh? Like a superhero."

Alessandro smirked. "Something like that."

The artist took a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling. "Alright, kid. Just give me a heads-up a few days before, and I'll make sure you're unrecognizable again."

Alessandro gave him a nod. "Appreciate it."

As he left the studio, he kept in mind that his world wasn't one where he could just walk into a small church every week without someone catching on. But for now, for as long as he could, he'd hold on to this little secret.

[xXx]

Back at his home in Madrid, Alessandro kicked off his shoes and lay back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. The past few hours had been… different. Refreshing. He had stepped away from the glitz and glamour of being Alessandro Inzaghi and, for a little while, had just been Alex. He smirked at the thought.

Grabbing his phone, he scrolled through his contacts until he found Papà and tapped the call button. It didn't take long before Filippo answered.

"Figlio mio!" his father greeted warmly. "How was training today?"

Alessandro chuckled. "Training was fine, but that's not what I called about."

"Oh?" Filippo sounded intrigued. "What is it?"

Alessandro sat up, leaning forward slightly. "Okay, so don't laugh, but… I went to a small church today."

There was a brief silence on the other end before Filippo responded, his voice amused. "Un miracolo! My son voluntarily went to church?"

Alessandro rolled his eyes. "Come on, Papà. I'm serious."

"Alright, alright," Filippo said, still chuckling. "Why a small church, though? You could have gone to one of the big ones."

"That's the thing," Alessandro replied. "I didn't want to be recognized. I got a disguise made."

"Wait… you what?" Filippo's tone changed to surprise.

"Yeah," Alessandro admitted. "I went full 'Beauty and the Beast' mode. Just… blended in with regular people. No cameras, no fame, no one asking for pictures. Just… me."

There was a pause before Filippo spoke again, this time more seriously. "You're looking for something, aren't you?"

Alessandro exhaled. "Yeah… maybe. I just wanted to be normal for a bit."

His father hummed in understanding. "And? Did you find what you were looking for?"

Alessandro hesitated before a small smile formed on his lips. "I met someone."

Filippo immediately perked up. "A girl?"

Alessandro chuckled. "Yeah, but it's not like that—well, not yet. She's the priest's daughter. Her name is Isabella."

Filippo let out a thoughtful hmm. "A priest's daughter, huh? You sure you're not stepping into some kind of forbidden love story?"

Alessandro laughed. "No, nothing like that! We just talked. She was reading a book, and we had a nice conversation."

Filippo listened intently before responding. "And this disguise… you're planning to go back?"

Alessandro leaned back into the couch, staring at the ceiling again. "Yeah… when I can. I can't always go, but on some Fridays, I'd like to."

Filippo sighed, his voice gentle. "You've always been different, Alessandro. Even with all the fame, you're still looking for something deeper. Just… be careful. The world isn't kind to those who seek purity in places where people expect corruption."

Alessandro nodded, even though his father couldn't see him. "I will, Papà. I promise."

"Alright, figlio mio," Filippo said. "Keep me updated on this little adventure of yours. And hey… if you do end up falling for this Isabella, at least make sure she likes football."

Alessandro smirked. "I'll keep that in mind."

The call ended, and Alessandro sat in silence for a moment, replaying everything in his head. Maybe he was searching for something deeper. Maybe he was trying to escape the madness of his world.

But for now, all he knew was that he wanted to see Isabella again.

After ending the call with his father, Alessandro leaned back on the couch, deep in thought. His father's words lingered in his mind, but rather than dwelling on them, he decided to take care of something more immediate—his appearance.

Pulling out his phone again, he scrolled through his contacts until he found Ronaldo's barber. Cristiano had given him the number after his first cut, saying, "Trust me, once you start, you won't want anyone else touching your hair."

Alessandro smirked and tapped the call button. After a few rings, the barber picked up.

"Bueno?" the man answered in a thick Spanish accent.

"Hey, it's Alessandro. Ronaldo's new neighbor," he introduced himself.

"Ahh, el chico nuevo!" The barber sounded pleased. "Cristiano told me you'd be calling soon. What can I do for you?"

"I want to keep maintaining the cut you gave me—the David Villa look," Alessandro explained. "Can we set up a weekly appointment?"

"Of course," the barber responded. "We can make it a standing appointment every Friday morning before training, or whenever it fits your schedule."

Alessandro thought for a moment before nodding to himself. "Friday mornings sound perfect. Just enough time before the weekend games."

"Perfecto," the barber confirmed. "See you this Friday then, chico."

"See you then," Alessandro replied before ending the call.

With that sorted, he placed his phone down and stretched. Everything in his life was fast-paced—training, matches, fame—but at least he had control over the little things, like his routine.

A fresh haircut, a secret trip to the small church when he could, and a mission to see Isabella again.

Friday was going to be interesting.

"Howdy, neighbour!" he says enthusiastically at the door after knocking.

Cristiano opened the door with a smirk, shaking his head at Alessandro's enthusiasm.

"Howdy, neighbor? What are you, a cowboy now?" he teased.

Alessandro chuckled. "Just trying to keep things interesting. You gonna let me in or make me watch the draw from the hallway?"

Cristiano stepped aside, letting him through. Inside, Cristiano Jr. was already sitting on the couch, remote in hand, flipping through channels as they waited for the UEFA Champions League draw to start.

"Hey, Junior," Alessandro greeted, ruffling the kid's hair before taking a seat next to him.

Cristiano Jr. laughed. "Hey, Alessandro! Who do you think we'll get?"

Alessandro leaned back, arms crossed. "Hopefully, not another 'Group of Death' situation, but hey, we're Madrid. We fear no one."

Cristiano laughed, sitting down next to them with a bowl of fresh fruit in hand. "Confidence—I like that."

As the TV broadcast finally switched to the live UCL draw, Alessandro felt a mix of excitement and anticipation. This was his first Champions League campaign with Real Madrid. He had won the Coppa Italia and Serie A with Milan, but the Champions League was different. This was the biggest club competition in the world.

As the groups started filling up, Alessandro leaned forward, watching intently.

"Let's see who we're facing," Cristiano said, eyes locked on the screen.

As the draw continued, Alessandro, Cristiano, and Cristiano Jr. watched with keen anticipation. Soon, the moment arrived—Real Madrid's group was about to be revealed.

Pot 1: Paris Saint-Germain (PSG)
Pot 2: Real Madrid
Pot 3: Shakhtar Donetsk
Pot 4: Malmö FF

The final confirmation appeared on the screen:

Group A:

Paris Saint-Germain

Real Madrid

Shakhtar Donetsk

Malmö FF

Alessandro nodded. "Not bad. PSG will be tough, but the rest? We should handle them."

Cristiano smirked. "PSG is strong, but let's be real—we should top this group."

Cristiano Jr. was grinning. "Dad, you're gonna score against PSG, right?"

Cristiano laughed. "Of course. And so will Alessandro."

Alessandro chuckled, shaking his head. "Let's hope. I want my first Champions League goal sooner rather than later."

The broadcast went on as the analysts discussed the groups. Real Madrid's group was highlighted as one of the more competitive ones, especially with PSG boasting an attacking force of Zlatan Ibrahimović, Edinson Cavani, and Ángel Di María.

"Shakhtar away in Ukraine will be tricky," Cristiano mused. "That place gets cold."

"And Malmö," Alessandro added. "That's Zlatan's homecoming. You know he'll want to put on a show."

Cristiano smiled. "Then we put on a bigger one."

Alessandro grinned, feeling the adrenaline pump through him. His first Champions League campaign with Madrid was going to be electric.

As the UEFA Champions League draw concluded, Alessandro, Cristiano Ronaldo, and Cristiano Jr. remained seated in the luxurious living room of Ronaldo's Madrid home. The tension from the draw had dissipated, replaced by a growing sense of excitement. Real Madrid had been placed in Group A alongside Paris Saint-Germain, Shakhtar Donetsk, and Malmö FF.

"Not bad," Cristiano mused, stroking his chin. "PSG will be tough, but the other two? We should handle them."

Alessandro nodded. "Yeah, but we can't underestimate Shakhtar. Ukrainian teams are always unpredictable."

Cristiano Jr. was listening intently, fascinated by the way the two footballers broke down their upcoming opponents. He then noticed Alessandro reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, well-worn notebook.

With a focused expression, Alessandro flipped open to a blank page and began writing. The scratching of his pen against the paper caught the young boy's attention.

"What's that?" Cristiano Jr. asked, moving closer to get a better look.

Alessandro smirked. "This?" He lifted the notebook slightly. "It's just my journal. I write my thoughts in here."

Cristiano Jr.'s curiosity grew, and he eagerly reached out for it. Alessandro chuckled before handing it over. The boy flipped through the pages, seeing neatly written notes, sketches of tactics, self-motivation phrases, and even some personal reflections.

That's when Cristiano Jr. stopped at a particular page that read: "One day, I will win the Champions League. Not just for me, but for history."

With wide eyes, he looked up at Alessandro. "You really believe this?"

Alessandro leaned forward, smiling. "Of course. Writing things down makes them real. It helps me focus and reminds me what I'm working towards."

The boy grinned. "Then write that we're winning this Champions League too!"

Alessandro exchanged amused glances with Cristiano Sr., then took his pen and flipped to a fresh page. With confidence, he wrote:

"Real Madrid: 2015/16 UEFA Champions League Winners."

He underlined it twice and held it up for both Cristianos to see.

"There," he said with a grin. "It's written."

Cristiano Sr. smirked, nodding approvingly. "Now we make it happen."

Cristiano Jr., now completely engrossed in Alessandro's notebook, continued flipping back through the pages, his small fingers carefully turning each one. He scanned the words, sometimes mouthing them quietly, until something made him pause.

His young eyes widened in surprise. "Hey, Alessandro… What's this?"

Alessandro leaned over, glancing at the page the boy had stopped on. As soon as he saw it, a nostalgic smile formed on his face.

It was a note written in slightly messier handwriting, dated a few years back when he was still a kid dreaming of the big stage. The words read:

"One day, I want to play for Marcello Lippi and thank him for the 2006 World Cup."

Cristiano Jr. furrowed his brows. "Who's Marcello Lippi?"

Alessandro chuckled and leaned back against the couch. "He was Italy's coach in 2006 when we won the World Cup." His voice carried deep admiration. "He led us to victory in the final against France. I was just a little kid back then, but that moment… it's what made me fall in love with football."

Cristiano Jr. glanced over at his father, who nodded knowingly. "Lippi was a legend," Cristiano said. "He built a team that never gave up. That's why they won."

Alessandro took a deep breath, momentarily lost in thought. "I used to dream that one day, I'd play under him. Even if just for one match. Just so I could shake his hand, look him in the eye, and say, 'Thank you for 2006.'"

Cristiano Jr. looked at him curiously. "But… didn't he retire?"

Alessandro sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, he did. Years ago. That dream won't happen now."

Cristiano Jr. seemed to think for a moment before brightening up. "But wait! You're already playing for Italy! Maybe you can still meet him and tell him anyway."

Alessandro smiled at the boy's enthusiasm. "Yeah… maybe one day."

Cristiano, who had been silent for a moment, suddenly spoke up. "Why 'maybe'? If you want to meet him, make it happen."

Alessandro glanced at him, intrigued.

Cristiano smirked. "You're Alessandro Inzaghi. If you want to meet Lippi, just ask the FIGC. Or better yet, tell him yourself. You're not a kid dreaming anymore—you're living the dream."

Alessandro absorbed those words. He had spent so many years thinking about it as an impossible dream that he never considered that, now, it wasn't impossible at all.

With a small nod, he took the notebook back from Cristiano Jr. and flipped to the latest blank page.

And in bold letters, he wrote:

"One day, I will meet Marcello Lippi and thank him for 2006."

He underlined it, looked at Cristiano and Cristiano Jr., and grinned. "You're right. I'll make it happen."

Cristiano clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit."

Cristiano Jr. nodded excitedly. "And when you do, write about it in your journal!"

Alessandro laughed. "You bet I will."

Cristiano Jr. tapped his chin, still holding onto Alessandro's notebook. His curiosity hadn't faded just yet.

"But why did you want to play for Lippi so badly?" he asked, tilting his head. "I mean, I get that he won the World Cup, but what made you dream about it so much?"

Alessandro took a moment before answering, his eyes reflecting nostalgia. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Because of my dad," he admitted, a small smile forming.

Cristiano Jr. blinked. "Your dad?"

Cristiano, sitting beside them, smirked knowingly. "Of course. Lippi coached Filippo in the national team during his prime."

Alessandro nodded. "Yeah, and it was under Lippi that my dad really became a star for Italy. Before 2006, he had already been great at club level, but with the national team, things weren't always easy for him. He was often a backup or left out completely, even though he was one of the best strikers in Italy."

Cristiano Jr. frowned. "That's not fair!"

Alessandro chuckled. "It wasn't, but that's just football sometimes. Then Lippi came in, and he saw something in my dad. He trusted him, gave him important minutes in key matches, and my dad repaid that faith. He scored a crucial goal against Ukraine in the quarter-finals. And even though he didn't start in the final against France, he was subbed in and took one of the penalties in the shootout. He scored."

Cristiano Jr. listened intently, his eyes wide. "He helped Italy win the World Cup!"

Alessandro nodded. "Exactly. And that's why I admired Lippi. He knew how to bring the best out of players, even ones people doubted. He took a chance on my dad, and my dad took his chance. That's what made me want to play for him. It wasn't just about the World Cup—it was about how he believed in his players."

Cristiano Jr. grinned. "So if you played for Lippi, he would've believed in you too!"

Alessandro smirked. "I'd like to think so. Plus, Lippi was the one who coached my dad at Juventus in the late '90s."

Cristiano Jr.'s eyes widened even more. "Wait, so he was already training him before the World Cup?"

Alessandro nodded. "Yeah. My dad played under him at Juve from '97 to '99. He had his best goal-scoring season in '97–98, winning the Serie A title and reaching the Champions League final. Lippi knew exactly how to use him. My dad always spoke highly of him, how he made him a better striker, how he built teams that played beautiful football but also worked hard."

Cristiano Jr. beamed. "So Lippi really shaped your dad's career, huh?"

Alessandro smiled. "You could say that. He helped my dad reach his best levels, first at Juve and then with the Azzurri in 2006. That's why I always thought about playing for him. I wanted to experience what my dad did, to play under a manager who truly understands strikers."

Cristiano Jr. grinned. "Well, at least now you can still meet him. And when you do, you can tell him all of this!"

Alessandro chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair. "You know what, Junior? You're right. When I meet Lippi, I'll tell him everything."

Cristiano smirked. "Just don't forget to write about it in that journal of yours."

Alessandro laughed. "Oh, I won't."

[xXx]

Alessandro sat on his couch, the glow of the dimmed living room lights giving the space a quiet, reflective atmosphere. Cristiano's words stuck with him—"Just don't forget to write about it in that journal of yours." But Alessandro wanted more than to just write about it. He wanted to experience it.

Taking a deep breath, he reached for his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the number for Gestifute International Football Consultants (GIFC)—the agency that handled his business affairs.

Pressing the call button, he leaned back into the couch, drumming his fingers against the armrest as the phone rang.

"Pronto, Alessandro! Che sorpresa! Cosa possiamo fare per te?" (Hello, Alessandro! What a surprise! What can we do for you?)

It was Ricardo, one of the agency's senior representatives, someone Alessandro trusted.

"Ciao, Ricardo. I need a favor," Alessandro said, his tone composed but carrying a hint of excitement.

"Of course, anything. What's on your mind?"

Alessandro exhaled. "I want to get in contact with Marcello Lippi."

There was a brief silence on the other end.

"Marcello Lippi? The legendary coach?"

"Sì. I just… I want to meet him, talk to him. If there's any way you can arrange it, I'd appreciate it."

Ricardo chuckled. "You always have something interesting up your sleeve, don't you?"

Alessandro smirked. "I like to make things happen."

"Well, you're in luck. Lippi is retired, but he still does some work with the FIGC (Italian Football Federation) from time to time. He also attends special football events. I'll reach out to my contacts, see what I can do."

"Grazie, Ricardo. I owe you one."

"No need, ragazzo. You just keep scoring goals for Real Madrid. That's payment enough."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Alessandro hung up. He stared at his phone for a moment, feeling a strange mix of nerves and excitement.

Meeting Marcello Lippi—one of the greatest Italian managers of all time, the man who shaped his father's career—felt like something out of a dream.

With a small smile, he grabbed his journal, flipped to a fresh page, and wrote:

"Marcello Lippi… soon, we'll meet."

Here's a moment-to-moment breakdown of Alessandro Inzaghi's performances for Real Madrid in September 2015:

LaLiga Matchweek 3: Espanyol vs. Real Madrid

RCDE Stadium – September 12, 2015

Alessandro stood on the pitch, taking in the energy of the stadium. It was his first away LaLiga game with Real Madrid, and he was eager to make his mark.

1st Assist – Minute 7

The match began with Real Madrid pushing forward aggressively. Alessandro received a pass from Luka Modrić and, with a swift turn, played a perfectly weighted through ball to Cristiano Ronaldo, who slotted it home.

Cristiano jogged back, grinning. "Great vision, kid."

2nd Assist – Minute 19

From a corner, Alessandro flicked the ball on at the near post, and Sergio Ramos powered in a header to double Madrid's lead.

3rd & 4th Assists – Minute 26 & 30

Espanyol were getting overwhelmed, and Alessandro was running the show. He dropped deep, picked up the ball, and split the defense with a no-look pass to James Rodríguez, who curled it in.

Minutes later, Alessandro sent a delicate chip over the Espanyol backline for Gareth Bale, who volleyed past the keeper.

"¡Madre mía, qué pase!" The commentators couldn't believe his playmaking.

5th & 6th Assists – Minute 49 & 56

With the second half underway, Alessandro continued his masterclass. He sprinted down the right flank, left his defender in the dust, and delivered a pinpoint cross that Isco tapped in.

Minutes later, another through ball to Ronaldo allowed him to grab his hat trick.

7th Assist – Minute 68

Real Madrid refused to slow down. Alessandro played a sharp one-two with Marcelo before cutting it back for Toni Kroos, who smashed it into the top corner.

Goal – Minute 83

After providing seven assists, Alessandro finally got on the scoresheet himself. Breaking into the box, he feinted past the goalkeeper and calmly rolled the ball into an empty net.

Final Score: Espanyol 0-8 Real Madrid
Alessandro's Performance: 1 Goal, 7 Assists

UEFA Champions League Group Stage – Matchday 1

Real Madrid vs. Shakhtar Donetsk – September 15, 2015

The Santiago Bernabéu was electric as the Champions League anthem played. Alessandro's first UCL game for Madrid, and he was ready.

Goal – Minute 22

With Real Madrid pressing high, Modrić played a clever ball to Alessandro inside the box. With a quick step-over, he fooled the defender and slotted a left-footed shot past the keeper.

He ran to the corner flag, kissing the Real Madrid badge. His first UCL goal for Los Blancos.

Assist – Minute 62

After an intense second half, Alessandro danced past two defenders on the right wing and sent in a perfect low cross for Cristiano Ronaldo, who buried it into the bottom corner.

Final Score: Real Madrid 2-0 Shakhtar Donetsk
Alessandro's Performance: 1 Goal, 1 Assist

LaLiga Matchweek 4: Real Madrid vs. Granada

Santiago Bernabéu – September 19, 2015

Goal – Minute 13

A counterattack began with Modrić feeding Alessandro. He outpaced his marker, cut inside, and curled a stunning shot into the far corner. The Bernabéu erupted.

Assist – Minute 35

Alessandro received a long ball from Ramos, controlled it expertly, and squared it to Bale, who fired past the Granada goalkeeper.

Goal – Minute 70

With the game winding down, Alessandro linked up with Isco, executed a quick one-two, and fired a rocket into the top corner from just outside the box.

Final Score: Real Madrid 3-0 Granada
Alessandro's Performance: 2 Goals, 1 Assist

Summary of Alessandro's September Performances:

LaLiga Matchweek 3 (vs Espanyol): 1 Goal, 7 Assists

UCL Group Stage MD1 (vs Shakhtar Donetsk): 1 Goal, 1 Assist

LaLiga Matchweek 4 (vs Granada): 2 Goals, 1 Assist

Alessandro was thriving at Real Madrid. The fans adored him, and the media was already calling him the perfect Galáctico signing.

[xXx]

A Call with Lippi?

Alessandro sat on his plush leather couch, the glow of Madrid's skyline visible through the large windows of his modern home. He had his phone in his hand, waiting for a response from GIFC regarding his request to speak with Marcello Lippi. His mind raced with excitement. What would he say to the legendary coach if he got the chance?

As he waited, his thoughts drifted back to football. The upcoming month was going to be intense. Real Madrid had crucial La Liga fixtures and another Champions League game. His body was feeling great, and he was forming strong chemistry with his teammates—especially Cristiano Ronaldo, Luka Modrić, and Gareth Bale.

His phone suddenly vibrated.

GIFC Representative: "Ciao, Alessandro! We received your request regarding Marcello Lippi. Would you be available for a call tomorrow afternoon? Mr. Lippi would be happy to speak with you."

Alessandro's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected such a quick response.

Alessandro: "Yes! Tomorrow is perfect. Grazie mille!"

As he set his phone down, he felt a rush of excitement. He was finally going to speak to the man who helped shape his father's career.

Match Preparation & Chemistry with the Squad

The next morning, Alessandro arrived at Ciudad Real Madrid for training. The atmosphere at Valdebebas was energetic, and with the international break over, all of his teammates were back.

During training, he found himself linking up well with James Rodríguez and Toni Kroos, setting up goals in small-sided games. Zinedine Zidane, watching from the sidelines, nodded in approval.

"Bueno, Ale!" Zidane clapped. "You're adapting quickly. Keep this up, and you'll be unstoppable."

Cristiano jogged over, nudging Alessandro's shoulder. "You're making a name for yourself already. Keep working hard, and you'll win everything."

Alessandro smirked. "Talent is nothing without hard work, right?"

Cristiano laughed. "Exactly. Now, let's see who can score more in the finishing drills."

The Call with Marcello Lippi

After training, Alessandro rushed home, showered, and set himself up in his living room. His phone buzzed—it was Marcello Lippi.

Lippi: "Pronto! Alessandro, how are you?"

Alessandro: "Mister Lippi! It's an honor to speak with you."

Lippi chuckled. "Please, just call me Marcello. I've been hearing great things about you. Your father must be proud."

Alessandro: "He is. I actually wanted to talk to you because… well, I grew up watching my father play for you at Juventus. He always spoke highly of you. I just wanted to thank you for everything you did for him and for Italian football."

Lippi: "That means a lot, Alessandro. Your father was a fantastic player—one of the best goal poachers I've ever coached. And now, you're carrying the Inzaghi name forward. I've watched you play. You remind me of a mix between your father and… dare I say, a young Del Piero with how smooth you are on the ball."

Alessandro smiled, humbled by the words.

Alessandro: "That means so much coming from you. I always dreamed of playing under you one day, but… I guess I was born a bit too late."

Lippi laughed. "Ah, life has a funny way of working. But you never know, maybe one day I'll be in the stands watching you lift a trophy with the Azzurri."

Alessandro: "That's my dream. To make Italy proud like in 2006."

Lippi: "Then keep working hard, keep learning, and most importantly, never forget why you love football. If you ever need advice, I'm just a call away."

Alessandro: "Grazie, Mister. I won't let you down."

As the call ended, Alessandro sat back, absorbing every word. He felt more motivated than ever.

A Call with His Father

Still buzzing from his conversation with Marcello Lippi, Alessandro paced around his living room, phone in hand. The evening lights of Madrid cast a warm glow through the windows, but his mind was elsewhere—thinking about everything Lippi had told him.

Without hesitation, he dialed his father's number. After a few rings, Filippo Inzaghi answered.

Filippo: "Pronto, Alessandro! How's my boy?"

Alessandro: "Hey, Papà. You'll never guess who I just spoke to."

Filippo: "Judging by that tone, I'd say… Marcello Lippi?"

Alessandro grinned. "How did you know?"

Filippo chuckled. "You've always been fascinated by my time at Juventus. And after your conversation with Cristiano Jr. the other night, I figured you'd want to reach out."

Alessandro: "He was amazing, Papà. He told me he watched me play and even compared me to a young Del Piero."

Filippo let out a proud laugh. "Ah, that's high praise! Del Piero was one of the most elegant players of our generation. And if Marcello says that, he truly means it."

Alessandro: "He also said that maybe one day he'll be watching me lift a trophy with the Azzurri."

There was a brief silence before Filippo responded, his voice filled with emotion.

Filippo: "That would be the proudest day of my life, figlio mio."

Alessandro sat down, running a hand through his hair. "It's crazy, Papà. I grew up idolizing you, hearing stories about your time under Lippi at Juve. I even dreamed of playing for him. I told him that too, and he just laughed, saying life has its own way of working."

Filippo sighed, his tone nostalgic. "You know, Alessandro, he wasn't just a great coach—he was a leader. He brought the best out of us. When he spoke, we listened. It's no surprise that you respect him so much."

Alessandro: "I feel like I'm on the right path, but there's still so much I need to do. So many goals to accomplish."

Filippo: "One step at a time. Keep your head down, train harder than anyone else, and trust your instincts. You're already making history, Alessandro. And if you ever feel lost, just remember why you started playing football in the first place."

Alessandro smiled, feeling a wave of reassurance. "Grazie, Papà. I'll make you proud."

Filippo: "You already have, son. Now go get some rest—you've got a Madrid Derby coming up."

They exchanged goodbyes before Alessandro set his phone down, staring at the ceiling for a moment. His journey was just beginning, but he had the right people guiding him—his father, his teammates, and now even a legend like Marcello Lippi.

With newfound determination, Alessandro grabbed his boots and headed to his personal training room, ready to sharpen his finishing. The Madrid Derby was around the corner, and he was ready to make his mark.

A Secret Visit in Disguise

After an intense finishing session, Alessandro wiped the sweat from his brow, breathing heavily as he looked at the pile of footballs scattered across the net. The Madrid Derby was just days away, but his mind wasn't just on football.

He grabbed his phone and checked the time—it was Friday evening. He smirked to himself.

"Perfect."

It had been a while since he last visited the small church in the less expensive part of Madrid, where he met Isabella—the priest's daughter. He had been busy with football, training, and making history with Real Madrid, but somehow, that place and that girl lingered in his thoughts.

He needed a disguise.

Alessandro grabbed his keys and headed out. He drove through the streets of Madrid, eventually parking in front of the makeup artist's studio. As he walked in, the artist—Luis—looked up from his desk, raising an eyebrow.

Luis: "Well, well, if it isn't my football star client."

Alessandro chuckled, shaking his head. "Come on, man. Not so loud."

Luis smirked. "What do you need? Another transformation?"

Alessandro leaned against the counter. "Yeah. Same style, nothing crazy. I need to be 'Alex' again."

Luis nodded knowingly. "Going to see that girl again, huh?"

Alessandro exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "It's not like that. I just… I liked the place. It felt real."

Luis chuckled as he grabbed his kit. "Alright, alright, no need to explain yourself. Sit down."

As Luis worked on Alessandro's disguise, the footballer stared at his reflection. Gone was the golden boy of Real Madrid, replaced by an ordinary-looking guy—someone who could blend into a small church without turning heads.

A few minutes later, he stood up and looked at himself in the mirror. He adjusted his hoodie and nodded in approval.

Alessandro: "Nice work."

Luis: "You know, with all these transformations, you might as well be Batman."

Alessandro laughed. "Nah, man. I'm just a guy looking for some normalcy."

He handed Luis the payment and headed out into the night.

A Familiar Church, A Familiar Face

Alessandro took a different route, parking a few streets away from the church and walking the rest of the way. As he approached the entrance, the familiar scent of incense and old wooden pews filled his senses.

The church was peaceful, dimly lit with only a few candles flickering near the altar. There weren't many people around—just a handful of worshippers lost in prayer.

Alessandro took a deep breath, stepping inside. He found an empty pew and sat down, clasping his hands together.

"What am I even doing here?"

Just as he was about to get lost in his thoughts, a voice broke the silence.

Isabella: "Didn't expect to see you again."

Alessandro turned his head to see Isabella standing nearby, holding another book in her hands. She had the same kind and curious expression as before.

He smirked. "Didn't expect to come back, to be honest."

She took a seat beside him, tilting her head slightly. "What brings you back, then?"

Alessandro thought about his answer for a moment. "Peace. Or maybe just curiosity."

Isabella chuckled. "Or maybe something deeper."

Alessandro smiled but said nothing.

Isabella: "You know, most people come here to seek guidance, not just to sit around in disguise."

Alessandro's eyes widened slightly. "Wait—how did you know?"

Isabella tapped her temple. "You think you're the first person to try to hide their identity in a church? My dad sees it all the time. And I pay attention."

Alessandro let out a breath and shook his head, chuckling. "Damn. Thought I was being subtle."

She smiled. "So, Alex—if that's even your real name—what's your story?"

Alessandro looked at her for a moment. For the first time in a long while, he wasn't sure what to say.

Alessandro smirked and leaned back against the pew, folding his arms.

Alessandro: "Alright, since you want a story, I'll tell you mine."

Isabella tilted her head, intrigued. "Oh? Go on."

Alessandro took a deep breath, pretending to be deep in thought.

Alessandro: "So, there was this kid… a regular guy, you know? Just living his life. And then, one day, something happened to him. Something that changed him forever."

Isabella's eyebrows raised in interest. "Changed him how?"

Alessandro: "Let's just say he got… new abilities. A new gift. But it came with a lot of responsibility. And suddenly, everyone was watching him, expecting him to be this great hero. But deep down? He just wanted a normal life."

Isabella chuckled, shaking her head. "Sounds dramatic."

Alessandro grinned. "Oh, it gets worse. The people he loved the most? He couldn't even be honest with them about who he was. He had to wear a mask, hide his true self. And because of that, he struggled to find someone who truly loved him for who he was—not for the hero, not for the fame, just… him."

Isabella was silent for a moment, absorbing his words. Then she laughed softly, shaking her head.

Isabella: "You just described Spider-Man."

Alessandro's smirk widened, but he kept his expression calm. "Did I?"

Isabella gave him a knowing look. "You totally did. But… I guess there's some truth to that story. Are you saying you feel like him?"

Alessandro exhaled, looking forward at the altar. "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I just like a good story."

Isabella studied him for a moment. "Well, for what it's worth, Spider-Man found love eventually. So there's hope for you, hero."

Alessandro chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, let's hope I don't have to fight any supervillains along the way."

She smiled warmly. "Life has its own villains, Alex. You just have to figure out which ones are worth fighting."

Alessandro nodded, processing her words. For the first time in a long while, he felt like someone truly saw him.

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed in the church.

The priest—Isabella's father—had stepped out from a side room and spotted them sitting together. He eyed Alessandro curiously before turning to his daughter.

Priest: "Isabella, are you ready to go?"

Isabella glanced at Alessandro before nodding. "Yeah, Papa. Just a second."

She turned back to Alessandro and held up her book. "Maybe next time, I'll tell you a story."

Alessandro smiled. "I'll hold you to that."

As she walked away with her father, Alessandro sat there for a moment longer, staring at the candle-lit altar.

Maybe life was like a superhero story after all.

With a quiet chuckle, Alessandro got up, pulled his hoodie over his head, and slipped out of the church, blending into the Madrid night once more.

UEFA Champions League – Group Stage Matchday 2

Malmö FF vs. Real Madrid
Malmö Stadion – September 30, 2015

Pre-Match Atmosphere

The Swedish crowd at Malmö Stadion was buzzing with excitement. Real Madrid, the European giants, had arrived, and all eyes were on Cristiano Ronaldo. However, one young star was starting to steal headlines—Alessandro Inzaghi.

As the players stepped onto the pitch, Alessandro could feel the cool Nordic air against his skin. He exhaled, bouncing on his toes before giving a playful nod to Cristiano.

Cristiano: "Let's give them a show, kid."

Alessandro smirked. "Always."

The referee blew the whistle, and the game began.

First Half – The Magician Awakens

10' – Alessandro's First Touch

As Luka Modrić received the ball near midfield, Alessandro called for it with a quick wave of his hand. The Croatian maestro sent a lofted pass his way. Alessandro controlled it effortlessly with his left thigh before flicking it over an incoming defender's head with his right foot.

The crowd gasped.

With a quick turn, Alessandro sprinted forward, shaking off another Malmö player with a fake shot, leaving him sliding on the grass. He then laid off a perfectly weighted pass to Isco, who took a shot—just wide.

19' – Ronaldinho-Like Dribbling

As Real Madrid settled into their rhythm, Alessandro received a pass near the edge of the box. Two Malmö defenders immediately pressed him.

With a cheeky elastico, he slid the ball past the first, then cut inside, faking a shot to send the second defender lunging in the wrong direction.

A third defender rushed toward him. Alessandro flicked the ball behind his standing leg—a signature backheel pass—straight to James Rodríguez.

James shot, but the Malmö keeper parried it away. Cristiano clapped from across the pitch, appreciating the flair.

28' – Alessandro's First Assist

Toni Kroos spotted Alessandro making a run behind the defense. He chipped the ball over the Malmö backline.

Alessandro volleyed the ball across the face of goal with his weaker left foot, where Cristiano Ronaldo was waiting.

CR7 smashed it into the net!

GOAL! MALMÖ 0-1 REAL MADRID!

Cristiano jogged over, slapping Alessandro's head.

Cristiano: "That was ridiculous, kid!"

Alessandro grinned. "Gotta keep you entertained, old man."

Second Half – Showtime Inzaghi

55' – Alessandro's Goal (Weaker Foot)

Malmö had started the second half aggressively, but Real Madrid caught them on the counterattack.

Isco played a perfect through ball to Alessandro. He sprinted toward goal with two defenders on his heels.

He approached the box—Cristiano was open to his right. He faked the pass, sending the goalkeeper diving early.

Then, with his left foot, he calmly chipped the ball over the stranded keeper.

GOAL! MALMÖ 0-2 REAL MADRID!

Alessandro jogged to the corner flag, arms outstretched. The Madrid bench stood up in applause.

Gareth Bale ran up behind him, jumping on his back.

Bale: "That chip was cold, mate!"

Alessandro just smirked, tapping his temple. "It's all in the mind, bro."

70' – Alessandro's Second Assist (Outside of the Boot)

Real Madrid were dominating possession when Modrić found Alessandro near the penalty area.

A Malmö defender rushed at him, but Alessandro cheekily nutmegged him, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

Then, with the outside of his right boot, he curled a pass around two defenders straight to Bale, who headed it in!

GOAL! MALMÖ 0-3 REAL MADRID!

Zinedine Zidane, watching from the technical area, gave a nod of approval.

82' – Alessandro's Second Goal (Right Foot Rocket)

Cristiano was brought down outside the penalty box, earning a free kick. Instead of shooting, he looked at Alessandro.

Cristiano: "You want it?"

Alessandro nodded. "Let me try something crazy."

He placed the ball down and took a few steps back. The Malmö wall was set.

As the referee blew the whistle, Alessandro ran up and struck the ball with pure venom using his right foot.

The ball dipped and swerved into the top corner, leaving the goalkeeper frozen.

GOAL! MALMÖ 0-4 REAL MADRID!

Alessandro stood still, letting the moment sink in before Cristiano ran up, lifting him onto his back just like Ronaldinho had done to Messi years ago.

The Madrid fans in the stands chanted his name.

Full-Time Whistle

The referee blew for full time. Alessandro had stolen the show.

2 Goals
2 Assists
Countless skills & entertainment

As they walked off the pitch, Cristiano nudged Alessandro.

Cristiano: "You might be more Brazilian than me at this rate."

Alessandro laughed. "Nah, just a kid trying to have fun."

As they entered the tunnel, Alessandro knew one thing—he was starting to feel at home in Madrid.

Ciudad Madrid – Pre-Derbi Training Session

October 2, 2015

The sun hung low over the Ciudad Real Madrid training facility, casting long shadows across the pristine pitches. The squad had gathered in the meeting room before training, and at the front stood Zinedine Zidane, hands in his pockets, addressing the group.

Zidane's Talk

"The win against Malmö was great, but now we have to focus. This Sunday, it's Atlético Madrid. They will press aggressively, play physically, and look to frustrate us. We need to control possession and strike at the right moments."

Alessandro sat in the middle of the room, nodding along as he stretched his legs under the table. But his mind wasn't entirely focused on the tactics.

Something had been bothering him since he arrived at Madrid. Something ridiculous. Something childish.

Did Zidane miss having hair?

Alessandro's Internal Struggle

As Zidane continued speaking about Atlético's midfield battles, Alessandro found himself zoning out.

Did he ever wake up and instinctively try to run his hand through his hair, only to remember it wasn't there?

Did he ever look at old photos of himself from his Juventus or Bordeaux days and feel nostalgic?

What if he actually liked being bald?

Alessandro shook his head slightly, trying to snap himself out of it. Focus, Ale. You're here to prepare for a derby, not think about your coach's scalp.

But the thought wouldn't go away.

The Temptation to Ask

After Zidane finished talking, the players clapped and began to stand up, heading toward the training pitch. Alessandro stayed seated for a second.

Should I ask?

He looked over at Cristiano, who was cracking a joke with Marcelo. Bale was tying his boots, and Modrić was discussing positioning with Kroos.

Zidane was still at the front of the room, gathering his notes.

This was the perfect moment.

No, no, no, Ale. Don't do it. You'll look like an idiot.

But his curiosity was gnawing at him.

Before he knew it, he had walked up to Zidane.

The Question

Zidane looked up at Alessandro, slightly surprised. "Something on your mind, Ale?"

Alessandro hesitated. He could feel his own heartbeat. This was one of the greatest midfielders of all time, a legend, a World Cup winner…

But the words came out before he could stop himself.

"Mister... do you ever miss having hair?"

Silence.

For a moment, Alessandro regretted everything.

But then, Zidane chuckled.

Zidane's Answer

Zidane leaned back against the desk and smirked.

"You know, when I was your age, I had long, flowing hair. But the moment I started losing it, I accepted it. No stress. Now? I think it suits me."

Alessandro laughed nervously. "Yeah, yeah, of course. It suits you a lot. You're iconic like this."

Zidane grinned. "But why do you ask? Thinking of shaving your head?"

Alessandro waved his hands. "No way! I barely got this David Villa cut going."

Zidane patted his shoulder. "Enjoy your hair while you have it, kid. Now go train."

As Alessandro jogged out to the pitch, he shook his head at himself.

"What the hell was that, Ale?"

But somehow, he felt lighter.

Ciudad Madrid – Pre-Derbi 11v11 Training Match

October 2, 2015

The sun hung high over the training ground as the Real Madrid players took their positions for a balanced 11v11 practice match. Zidane, wanting to test different combinations, had mixed up the usual starters, substitutes, and reserves to make things competitive.

Alessandro found himself on a team with Modrić, Bale, Nacho, and Casemiro, while Cristiano, Kroos, Marcelo, and Ramos were on the opposite side.

From the moment the whistle blew, Alessandro was a showman.

The First Touch – A Ronaldinho Tribute

Casemiro played him the ball, and before his marker could react, Alessandro executed a no-look pass behind his leg straight to Bale on the wing.

Marcelo (on the opposing team): "Ay, ay! What was that?!"

Cristiano: "He thinks he's Ronaldinho!"

Bale, laughing, swung in a cross, but Ramos headed it clear.

The First Assist – Two-Footed Brilliance

The match continued at a high tempo, with both teams trying to prove a point before the big Atlético game.

Alessandro picked up the ball near the center circle. Kroos came pressing. Instead of playing it safe, Alessandro dragged the ball back with his right foot, then with his left, spinning away from Kroos effortlessly.

Kroos: "Damn, where is he going?!"

Now free, Alessandro sprinted forward, waiting for the perfect moment.

Bale made a diagonal run, but Alessandro delayed, fooling the defense. Then, with his weak foot, he curled a delicate through ball between Ramos and Varane.

Bale didn't even have to break his stride—one touch, shot, goal.

Bale (running back and pointing at Alessandro): "I see you, Ale! Weak foot? Nah, you got two strong ones!"

Alessandro simply smirked.

The Entertainment – Street Football at Its Finest

At one point, Marcelo tried to press Alessandro on the left touchline. Instead of panicking, Alessandro rolled the ball under his foot, flicked it up, and then juggled it three times before nutmegging Marcelo with a backheel.

The entire training ground erupted.

Modrić (laughing, hands on his head): "No way. No way!"

Casemiro: "Marcelo, you good?"

Marcelo, now running back, had his hands on his hips, shaking his head.

Marcelo: "If he ever does that again, I'm taking his legs."

The Second Assist – A Perfect Chip

With the match still level, Alessandro found himself deep on the right wing, facing Ramos.

"Alright, let's make it interesting," Alessandro thought.

With the outside of his right foot, he flicked the ball up, then scooped a chipped cross over the defense.

Modrić, arriving late, volleyed it home past Keylor Navas.

The entire team clapped in approval.

Cristiano: "Ale, you're playing like you're in the Bernabéu already."

Zidane (smirking from the sideline): "That's enough magic. We need you fresh for Sunday."

The whistle blew. Training ended. Alessandro walked off the pitch, grinning.

"Derbi day is going to be special."

Post-Practice Banter – Real Madrid Locker Room

Ciudad Madrid – October 2, 2015

The training session had just ended, and Alessandro walked into the locker room with sweat still dripping from his forehead. As he placed his boots in his locker, the chatter had already begun.

Marcelo Wants Revenge

Marcelo, who was still bitter about getting nutmegged, threw his towel over Alessandro's head.

Marcelo: "Oi, Ale, you should be arrested for what you did to me out there. Pure disrespect!"

Alessandro pulled the towel off, smirking.

Alessandro: "You got too close, bro. It was self-defense!"

The room erupted in laughter.

Casemiro: "Nah, nah, Marcelo. He turned you into a YouTube clip!"

Varane: "Skill compilations incoming."

Marcelo (pointing at Alessandro): "Watch your ankles in the next training, young man."

Cristiano's Take

Cristiano, sitting across from Alessandro, wiped his face with a towel before grinning.

Cristiano: "Ale, I told you to be serious in training, not play futsal with us!"

Alessandro: "Oh, so the elastico I saw you try on Nacho didn't count?"

Nacho: "That elastico was illegal, by the way."

The whole locker room burst into another wave of laughter as Cristiano shook his head.

Cristiano: "Okay, okay, fair point."

Bale's Praise

Bale, who had benefited the most from Alessandro's assists in training, gave him a playful slap on the back.

Bale: "I still don't get how you switch feet like that. Are you sure you weren't born with four legs?"

Alessandro: "Nah, just two, but I trained them both since I was a kid. Left foot, right foot, all the same."

Modrić: "He's got a controller in his brain, I swear."

Kroos' 'Complaint'

Kroos leaned against his locker with a smirk.

Kroos: "Next time, just tell me where you're going so I don't waste my energy pressing you."

Alessandro: "Come on, Toni, that wouldn't be fun!"

Casemiro: "Toni just doesn't like running, we all know that."

The room exploded in laughter again, with Kroos rolling his eyes.

Final Words from Zidane

Just as the banter was reaching its peak, Zidane walked into the locker room with his hands in his pockets.

Zidane: "Alright, alright, enough fun. Big game on Sunday. Atlético won't be laughing if we play like that in the Bernabéu."

The mood shifted slightly as the players nodded seriously.

Cristiano: "We got this, coach."

Zidane smirked.

Zidane: "If Alessandro plays like that again, we might not even need tactics."

Everyone laughed again as Alessandro grinned.

The Banter Continues...

As the players began showering and changing, the jokes continued.

Marcelo kept mock-challenging Alessandro to a 1v1 rematch. Bale was still amazed at Alessandro's footwork. Cristiano jokingly reminded everyone that he was still the main man.

And Alessandro?

He just smiled, knowing Sunday's Madrid Derby was going to be special.

[xXx]

Memories, Magic, and the Madrid Derby Ahead

The locker room still buzzed with energy from training as Alessandro sat on the bench, running a towel through his damp hair. Laughter and banter filled the air, but it was Marcelo who set off a wave of nostalgia.

"Man… today really reminded me of something," the Brazilian left-back said, shaking his head with a smirk.

Alessandro glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

Marcelo leaned back against the bench, his grin widening. "That third-place match in the 2014 World Cup. Italy vs. Brazil."

A split second of silence hung in the room before a collective groan erupted from the Brazilian players.

Casemiro shot Marcelo a glare. "Aí, mano… por que você tem que lembrar disso? (Bro, why did you have to bring that up?)"

Marcelo simply laughed. "Because this guy right here—" he pointed at Alessandro "—absolutely destroyed us that night. Four goals. Against Brazil. In a World Cup match."

Cristiano, tying his boots, looked up, surprised. "Four?"

Modrić nodded. "I remember that game. The kid was unstoppable."

Varane, leaning on his locker, frowned. "I thought it was three?"

Marcelo wagged a finger. "Nope. Four. A perfect hat-trick—right foot, left foot, header—plus a penalty at the end. And the worst part? The celebrations!"

The players chuckled as Marcelo turned back to Alessandro.

"Tell me why—WHY—you had to do the Bebeto baby celebration first, then the Pelé fist, then the Romário airplane, and finally the Ronaldo Nazário finger wag!?"

Alessandro shrugged, grinning. "I had to honor the legends, man."

Casemiro shook his head. "You disrespected a whole country, bro."

Alessandro let out a laugh. "Naah, it was admiration!"

The locker room filled with laughter, but Marcelo wasn't done.

"And speaking of admiration…" he continued, snapping his fingers. "Remember how you played in the 2014/15 season?"

Now all eyes were on Alessandro.

"You literally looked and played like Ronaldinho. The ponytail, the headband, the tricks… People were saying you were 'more Brazilian than Neymar' that season!"

A wave of excitement rippled through the squad as memories of Alessandro's AC Milan era flooded back.

Cristiano chuckled. "Oh yeah, I remember that. There was even a YouTube video about it!"

Bale grinned. "Your lob against Juve in the Coppa Italia final? Pure magic."

Modrić smirked. "Be honest… did you ever try Ronaldinho's elastico just for fun?"

Alessandro leaned back with a knowing smile. "Of course. But I always made sure to add my own spin to it."

Marcelo clapped his hands together. "Bro, you're basically a Brazilian at heart."

Cristiano, who had been listening with a small smile, stood up and gave Alessandro a firm pat on the back.

"Alright, enough memory lane. You showed flashes of that today, but on Sunday? Show it again. In the Bernabéu. In the Derby."

Alessandro met his gaze and nodded. "Don't worry. I'll be ready."

A New Opportunity

As the players finished up, Alessandro tossed his towel into the laundry bin and grabbed his bag. Just as he was about to leave, a club official approached him.

"Alessandro," the man greeted, holding a clipboard.

"Yeah?" Alessandro turned, curious.

"There's a television show that wants to interview you. A big one."

Alessandro blinked, taken aback. "A TV interview?"

"Yes. They reached out earlier today. They're impressed with how quickly you've settled into Madrid and want to feature you."

Alessandro exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. He wasn't a stranger to interviews, but a television special? That was new.

"When is it?"

"We'll coordinate with your schedule, but they'd like to do it soon—before the Champions League resumes."

Alessandro thought for a moment before nodding. "Alright. Let's set it up."

The official smiled. "I'll handle the details. Expect more information tomorrow."

As Alessandro finally stepped out of the locker room and into the cool Madrid night, he couldn't help but smile to himself. His football was dazzling, his teammates respected him, and now the media wanted to tell his story.

The Madrid Derby was coming up. And Alessandro Inzaghi was ready to shine.

A Morning Run with the Captain

The Madrid sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden glow over the city as Alessandro laced up his running shoes. He had always loved morning runs—a habit he had picked up as a teenager at Milanello. It cleared his mind, sharpened his focus, and helped him prepare for whatever challenges lay ahead.

As he took off down the quiet streets, the air was crisp, and the rhythmic sound of his feet hitting the pavement was soothing. He ran past small cafés just beginning to open, the scent of fresh bread and coffee filling the air.

Then, as he turned a corner near one of Madrid's scenic parks, he nearly collided with someone.

"¡Oye! Watch it!"

Alessandro skidded to a stop, eyes widening as he recognized the man standing before him.

"Sergio?"

Sergio Ramos, Real Madrid's captain, stood there in a black training top and shorts, a slight smirk on his face. His arms were folded, and his sharp eyes studied Alessandro.

"Inzaghi… I didn't expect to see you out this early."

Alessandro let out a small chuckle, catching his breath. "Morning runs keep me sharp. What about you?"

Ramos nodded. "Same. Gotta stay ready for the Derby. We can't let Atlético think they have a chance."

Alessandro grinned. "Exactly. So… wanna run together?"

Ramos didn't hesitate. "Let's go."

The two took off, jogging side by side. The streets were still mostly empty, giving them space to move at a steady pace. They ran in silence for a while, both focused, their breathing controlled.

Then Ramos spoke.

"You're settling in well, kid. Everyone's been impressed with you."

Alessandro glanced over. "Thanks. I just try to play my game, you know?"

Ramos smirked. "And what a game that is. Modrić was saying yesterday that you remind him of a young Kaka mixed with Ronaldinho. What do you think?"

Alessandro laughed. "I think that's a dangerous combination."

Ramos chuckled. "True. But you've got something else too. You're hungry. You've got that killer instinct. You wanna win."

Alessandro nodded, his expression turning serious. "I do. And I want to prove I belong here."

Ramos patted his shoulder as they continued running. "You've already proven it. But Sunday? That's your first Madrid Derby. Win that, and the fans will love you forever."

Alessandro absorbed those words as they reached the park's fountain, slowing to a stop. He placed his hands on his hips, breathing deeply.

"I'll be ready, Captain."

Ramos smirked. "Good. Now let's get back before Zidane makes us run more at training."

The two turned back toward the training grounds, jogging side by side.

The Madrid Derby was two days away.

Alessandro was ready for war.

[xXx]

Build-up to the Madrid Derby

The city of Madrid was electric with anticipation. The first Madrid Derby of the 2015/16 LaLiga season was just around the corner, and fans from both sides were bracing for an intense clash between Real Madrid and Atlético Madrid at the Estadio Vicente Calderón.

Football analysts across Spain debated the tactical nuances of the game. On one side, Zinedine Zidane's Real Madrid was building a squad that blended youth and experience, precision and flair. Their latest signing, Alessandro Inzaghi, had already made waves in LaLiga with his breathtaking performances, providing goals, assists, and a style of play that many likened to the legendary Ronaldinho.

On the other side, Diego Simeone's Atlético Madrid was as disciplined and aggressive as ever. Known for their defensive solidity and counter-attacking prowess, Atlético thrived in derby games, often suffocating their opponents and capitalizing on mistakes. Their talisman, Antoine Griezmann, was in top form, and new signings like Yannick Carrasco were adding dynamism to their attack.

Spanish football pundit Guillem Balagué analyzed the upcoming battle:

"Real Madrid has started the season strong, and with Alessandro's ability to break down defenses, they have an unpredictable element that could trouble Atlético. But let's not forget, Simeone's side thrives on frustrating teams like Madrid. The battle between Sergio Ramos and Griezmann, as well as Modrić and Koke in midfield, will be fascinating."

Meanwhile, former Real Madrid legend Jorge Valdano highlighted the importance of Alessandro's involvement:

"He's already becoming a fan favorite. His two-footed ability makes him a nightmare for defenders, and the way he carries the ball reminds me of a young Kaka. If he finds space, he could be decisive."

Fans in both camps were buzzing, and as matchday approached, tensions grew. The stakes were high, the rivalry was fierce, and Madrid was about to witness another chapter of this historic showdown.

Matchday: Atlético Madrid vs. Real Madrid

The Vicente Calderón was a cauldron of noise as both teams stepped onto the pitch. The roar of the Atlético faithful filled the air, but Real Madrid remained composed. The referee blew the whistle, and the Derby was underway.

From the very first minute, Alessandro Inzaghi was electric. His first touch on the ball drew gasps from the crowd—a no-look flick past Gabi, shifting play to the opposite wing where Gareth Bale surged forward.

First Half

10' minute – Inzaghi's nutmeg ignites the crowd A tight midfield battle saw Alessandro dropping deep to receive the ball. With a swift body feint, he nutmegged Saúl Ñíguez, glided past him, and sent a perfectly weighted pass to Cristiano Ronaldo on the wing. The Portuguese forward darted inside and took a shot, but Jan Oblak made a solid save.

23' minute – Alessandro's Ronaldinho-like dribble Receiving the ball near the left-wing, Alessandro sized up Juanfran. With a dazzling elastico, he skipped past him before executing a no-look pass to Karim Benzema, who tested Oblak once again. The crowd, even Atlético fans, couldn't help but appreciate the sheer skill.

30' minute – Inzaghi assists Ronaldo (0-1 Real Madrid) Real Madrid broke on the counter. Luka Modrić played a sharp ball to Alessandro, who sprinted forward. With a quick drop of the shoulder, he cut inside past Koke and delivered a perfectly curved outside-the-boot cross to the far post. Ronaldo met it with a thumping header. GOAL! Real Madrid took the lead.

Second Half

Atlético came out fighting, pushing higher up the pitch, but Real Madrid looked lethal on the counter.

53' minute – Alessandro's samba-style play Trapped near the sideline with two defenders pressing him, Alessandro pulled off a dazzling double step-over before flicking the ball through the legs of Diego Godín and darting past. He then laid it off to Bale, whose shot whistled just wide.

67' minute – Inzaghi's second assist to Bale (0-2 Real Madrid) A quick one-two between Marcelo and Alessandro saw the Italian wonderkid drift into a central playmaker role. Spotting Bale's run behind the defense, he lifted a delicate chipped through ball over the backline. Bale controlled it in stride and buried it into the net. GOAL! Real Madrid extended their lead.

78' minute – Alessandro seals the match (0-3 Real Madrid) With Atlético pushing desperately for a goal, Real Madrid found space on the break. Modrić intercepted a pass and sent Alessandro racing down the right. He had Ronaldo and Bale to his left, but instead, he decided to go solo.

As he reached the penalty area, he feinted to shoot with his left foot, completely deceiving José Giménez, before quickly shifting the ball to his right and curling a low shot past Oblak. GOAL! The away fans erupted in celebration as Alessandro sprinted to the corner flag, arms spread wide.

Full-time: Atlético Madrid 0-3 Real Madrid

As the final whistle blew, Real Madrid's players embraced. Alessandro, who had just played one of the best games of his young career, was mobbed by his teammates. Cristiano Ronaldo lifted him up in celebration, a symbolic moment akin to Ronaldinho lifting Messi after his first Barcelona goal.

Zinedine Zidane, watching from the touchline, smiled. Alessandro was not just a special talent—he was born for the big stage.

This was not just another Madrid Derby. This was the night Alessandro Inzaghi announced himself as a Galáctico.

The final whistle blew, signaling a triumphant night for Real Madrid as they walked away with a hard-fought victory over their city rivals, Atlético Madrid. The energy inside the Estadio Vicente Calderón had been electric, but now, as the players made their way into the locker room, the tension turned into celebration.

Alessandro Inzaghi entered the locker room, sweat still dripping from his brow, but with an unmistakable grin. As he threw his jersey onto the bench, Gareth Bale clapped him on the back.

"Mate, are you sure you're Italian? Because that was some Brazilian magic out there!" Bale laughed, shaking his head. "That assist with the outside of your left foot—insane!"

Cristiano Ronaldo, already wrapping a towel around his waist, chuckled. "I told you guys, this kid's something special. That backheel flick to assist James? Too much!"

Sergio Ramos smirked as he pulled off his captain's armband. "Ale, I swear at one point I thought Ronaldinho's spirit possessed you. The Atlético defenders are probably still dizzy."

Alessandro sat down on the bench, running his hands through his damp hair. "Hey, I just do what I can, you know? Entertain the fans and keep things fun. Besides, you guys make it easy for me!"

Marcelo, already laughing, chimed in. "I don't know, man. This reminded me of the 2014 World Cup third-place playoff. Italy versus Brazil, four goals from you! And you even celebrated like all the Brazilian legends that day!"

The locker room erupted in cheers and whistles.

"Don't remind me!" Marcelo groaned playfully. "We still talk about that game back home. You ruined my country's day!"

Alessandro smirked. "Well, at least you got to see me up close this time, huh?" He winked, making Marcelo shake his head with a laugh.

Just as the laughter was dying down, a club official entered the locker room and walked straight towards Alessandro.

"Alessandro, a quick word?"

The teenager straightened up, nodding. "Sure, what's up?"

"A major TV show has requested an interview with you. They're eager to talk about your performance tonight and your adaptation to life at Real Madrid."

Alessandro blinked before exchanging glances with Ronaldo, who grinned and patted his shoulder.

"You're a star now, bro. Get used to it."

Alessandro let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Guess I better get ready then."

As he stood up and made his way out of the locker room, his teammates continued their celebrations, knowing that Alessandro's performance in the Madrid Derby had just cemented his place as one of the most exciting young talents in world football.

As Alessandro stepped out of the sleek black vehicle provided by the club, he adjusted his jacket and took a deep breath. The bright Madrid sun reflected off the glass windows of the television studio, where he was about to be interviewed. He had done plenty of media appearances before, but this was his first major one since joining Real Madrid, and he wanted to make a good impression.

Walking through the hallway, guided by a studio assistant, he navigated the bustling environment. People rushed back and forth, adjusting lighting, setting up cameras, and preparing for various shows being filmed. He was focused on finding the right room when he suddenly bumped into someone, almost knocking her over.

"Oh! Lo siento," he said quickly, steadying the person he had collided with.

She turned to face him, her sharp hazel eyes widening slightly in recognition. She was a tall, striking woman with long, wavy brown hair cascading over her shoulders. Dressed in a chic designer ensemble, she exuded confidence and elegance.

"No te preocupes," she replied with a smile before her expression shifted to curiosity. "Wait a second… You're Alessandro Inzaghi, aren't you?"

Alessandro nodded, a little caught off guard. "Yeah, that's me. And you?"

She let out a small laugh, clearly amused that he didn't immediately recognize her. "I'm Jordana Massaro. I host Celebremos España, a fashion and celebrity talk show."

Now Alessandro realized where he had seen her before—his social media feed occasionally featured clips from her show, where she and her co-hosts discussed celebrities in Spain, including athletes like him.

"Ahh, I think I've seen your show before," he admitted with a small smirk. "You talk about footballers sometimes, right?"

"All the time," she said, tilting her head slightly. "You've actually been a topic of discussion a few times since moving to Madrid."

Alessandro raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And what are you all saying about me?"

She chuckled. "Mostly good things—your performances, your charisma on the pitch. But there's also some curiosity about your personal life. You're a big mystery when it comes to dating, and people love speculating."

Alessandro rolled his eyes playfully. "Great… Just what I need—more rumors."

Jordana grinned. "Don't worry, I'm not here to pry. But maybe you should come on my show sometime. Give your side of the story."

"I'll think about it," he said, before nodding toward the hallway. "Anyway, I should get going before I'm late for my interview."

She gave him a playful salute. "Go be a star, Inzaghi."

With that, Alessandro continued down the hallway, shaking his head with a small chuckle. Just another day in the life of a footballer in Madrid.

Alessandro finally reached the designated studio, where a production assistant greeted him warmly and guided him inside. The room was buzzing with energy—cameras being adjusted, microphones tested, and producers running through final preparations. Despite the busy atmosphere, there was a welcoming feel to it.

"Ah, Alessandro! Welcome!" the host, a well-dressed man in his late 40s named Javier Ramos, greeted him with a firm handshake. His voice carried the smooth professionalism of a seasoned interviewer. "We're honored to have you here."

"The honor's mine," Alessandro replied with an easy smile. He took a moment to glance around the studio, getting a feel for his surroundings.

A woman holding a clipboard approached with a warm expression. "Would you like anything before we start? Water? Tea?"

"Water would be great, thanks," Alessandro said, appreciating the hospitality.

As he settled into the interview chair, the makeup artist quickly did some final touch-ups. "Not that you need much," she said with a chuckle. "You're naturally camera-ready."

Alessandro laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Javier took a seat across from him. "We'll keep it light at first—talk about your transition to Madrid, your experience so far. Then we'll touch on football, your ambitions, and a little about your life off the pitch."

"Sounds good to me," Alessandro replied, feeling at ease.

The camera operator gave a thumbs-up, signaling they were ready. The stage lights brightened slightly, and the countdown began.

"Alright, Alessandro," Javier said as the cameras started rolling. "Let's start with something simple—how has Madrid treated you so far?"

Alessandro leaned back slightly, flashing a relaxed smile. "Madrid has been incredible. The fans, the club, my teammates—it's been a dream so far. The city itself is beautiful, and I'm settling in well."

The warm and friendly energy in the studio made it easy for Alessandro to relax, and as the interview continued, he found himself enjoying the conversation.

As the interview progressed, Alessandro felt completely at ease. Javier was an experienced host who knew how to keep the conversation engaging.

Javier: "Let's talk about your journey to Real Madrid. It's no secret that your transfer was one of the biggest of the summer. How did it feel when you got the call that the deal was done?"

Alessandro: "It was surreal. Growing up, you dream about playing for clubs like Real Madrid, but when it actually happens, it's a mix of excitement and pressure. I knew I was joining a team full of legends, so my focus was just on proving that I belonged."

Javier: "Speaking of legends, you're playing alongside Cristiano Ronaldo, a player you've admired for years. What's that experience been like?"

Alessandro: "Unbelievable. Cristiano is the ultimate professional. The way he trains, the way he prepares—it's inspiring. Every day I learn something new from him, and he's been very welcoming. He's also got a good sense of humor, which helps."

Javier smiled. "That's great to hear. Now, your start to the season has been nothing short of spectacular—goals, assists, dazzling performances. Do you feel like you're already at your best, or is there another level you're striving for?"

Alessandro chuckled. "I think there's always another level. I've had a good start, but football is about consistency. My goal is to keep improving every game, every season. I want to be remembered not just for one good season, but for a career full of them."

Javier nodded approvingly. "That's the mindset of a champion. Now, here's a fun question for you—who do you think is the best Alessandro in football?"

Alessandro grinned, immediately catching the playful tone of the question. He leaned back slightly and crossed his arms, pretending to give it deep thought. "Ah, that's a tough one. You know, there's a certain Alessandro Inzaghi who's making a name for himself…" he said, laughing.

Javier chuckled. "Oh, so you're backing yourself?"

"I mean, if I don't believe in myself, who will?" Alessandro joked before adding, "But if we're talking historically, Alessandro Del Piero was an absolute magician. A true legend of the game."

Javier nodded. "A great answer. You're following in the footsteps of some incredible Italian forwards, and you're already making your own mark."

Alessandro smiled. "That's the goal—to leave my own legacy."

Javier: "Alessandro, it's been an absolute pleasure having you here today. Before we wrap up, do you have any final words for the Real Madrid fans who are eagerly watching your journey?"

Alessandro nodded, his expression sincere. "First of all, thank you for the amazing support. The fans at the Bernabéu have been incredible, and I feel truly honored to wear this shirt. I promise to give everything for this club and keep working hard to bring success to Madrid. Vamos, Madrid!"

Javier clapped his hands together. "That's exactly what the fans love to hear. Alessandro Inzaghi, a young star with the heart of a champion. Thank you for joining us today."

Alessandro smiled, shaking Javier's hand. "Thank you for having me. It was a pleasure."

As the cameras turned off, the crew applauded, and a few staff members approached Alessandro to congratulate him on a great interview. He took a moment to chat with them before making his way toward the exit.

Just as he was about to leave, he spotted Javier coming over.

"You did great, man," Javier said. "You're a natural at this. Something tells me we'll be seeing a lot more of you in interviews like these."

Alessandro chuckled. "Well, as long as I keep performing on the pitch, right?"

Javier grinned. "Exactly. Good luck for the rest of the season!"

With that, Alessandro exited the studio, feeling a sense of accomplishment. It had been his first major television interview in Spain, and he had handled it well. As he walked towards the car the club had sent for him, his mind shifted back to football. The season was still young, and there was so much more to achieve.

As Alessandro stepped out of the studio, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket, he was met by one of the security guards stationed near the exit.

"Señor Inzaghi," the guard called out, stopping him in his tracks. Alessandro turned, slightly puzzled.

"Yeah?"

The guard handed him a neatly folded note. "This was left for you."

Alessandro raised an eyebrow but took the note, unfolding it carefully. As his eyes scanned the elegant handwriting, a small smirk played on his lips.

"Alessandro,
I enjoyed our little run-in earlier. If you're free, how about lunch? Let's say tomorrow at 1 PM? I know a nice place.
— Jordana Massaro."

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. He hadn't expected that. The host of one of Spain's biggest fashion and celebrity talk shows asking him out for lunch? He was used to attention, but this was new.

He glanced back at the studio, wondering if Jordana was still inside. Maybe she was watching, waiting for a reaction. Alessandro tucked the note into his pocket and exhaled, his thoughts racing.

"Well… this could be interesting."

Sliding into the car Real Madrid had arranged for him, he pulled out his phone and stared at the note again. A small grin formed on his lips as he sent a reply.

"Sounds good. I'll see you at 1 PM. Hope the food's as good as your handwriting. — A.I."

As the car pulled away from the studio, Alessandro leaned back, staring out the window. Lunch with Jordana Massaro, huh? He wasn't sure what to expect—but he had a feeling things were about to get interesting.

Alessandro sighed and leaned back against the plush leather of his car seat before pulling out his phone. He scrolled through his contacts and found the number of his trusted makeup artist. After a brief hesitation, he pressed the call button and brought the phone to his ear.

A few rings later, a familiar voice answered.

"Ale! What's up, man? Need another transformation?"

Alessandro chuckled. "Not exactly… but I do need some advice."

"Oh? This is new. What's on your mind?"

Alessandro exhaled. "So… I got a note from a woman after an interview. She wants to take me out for lunch."

"Aha! The legendary Alessandro Inzaghi is being courted now? Who's the lucky lady?"

"Jordana Massaro."

There was a beat of silence before a whistle came through the phone. "Wow. That's huge, man. She's a big deal in Spain's fashion scene. And you're hesitating?"

"Yeah… because of Isabella."

The makeup artist hummed in thought. "Ah, the church girl. I see the problem now."

Alessandro rubbed his temple. "Jordana is glamorous, a socialite, and probably the type of woman people expect me to be with. But Isabella… she's different. She's just normal. No flashing lights, no media. She doesn't even know who I really am."

"So, what's the real dilemma?"

"I don't know who I should be giving my time to," Alessandro admitted. "I barely know either of them, but I feel like I should be making a choice before things get complicated."

The makeup artist chuckled. "Ale, you're overthinking. A lunch with Jordana doesn't mean you're marrying her, and visiting Isabella at church doesn't mean you have to confess your undying love. Just take things slow. See where each road leads."

Alessandro sighed. "You're right. I guess I just don't want to mess things up before they even start."

"Then don't. Go to the lunch, enjoy yourself. And when you feel like visiting Isabella, I'll be here to make sure no one recognizes you. Sound like a plan?"

A small smile tugged at Alessandro's lips. "Yeah. Sounds like a plan."

As he ended the call, Alessandro still felt the weight of his thoughts, but at least now, he had some clarity. No pressure, no rush. Just taking things as they came.

[xXx]

The sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm golden glow over Madrid as Alessandro finished another intense training session at Valdebebas. His body ached, but his mind was elsewhere. After a quick shower and a fresh change of clothes, he made his way to a familiar location—the makeup artist's studio.

"You really like this disguise thing, huh?" the makeup artist teased as he set up his tools.

Alessandro smirked. "It works, doesn't it?"

"Sure, but I gotta say, hiding from the world just to see a girl at church? That's some next-level romantic drama."

"It's not just about her," Alessandro replied. "I actually like the quiet there. It's different from everything else in my life."

The makeup artist shrugged. "Fair enough. Sit still."

After a careful transformation—darker stubble, slightly different eyebrows, and a subtle shift in hairstyle—Alessandro looked into the mirror. Once again, "Alex" stared back at him.

He slipped on a simple hoodie and jeans, thanking the makeup artist before heading out. Soon, he was weaving through the quieter streets of Madrid, heading to the small church in the less expensive part of the city.

Upon arriving, he noticed the place was nearly empty—just as he liked it. He took a deep breath and stepped inside, the cool air and the scent of old wood and candles instantly calming him.

As he walked further in, he spotted the priest near the altar, adjusting some books on a wooden shelf. The older man turned and immediately recognized him, despite the disguise.

"Ah, Alex," the priest greeted warmly, closing a book. "Back so soon?"

Alessandro gave a sheepish smile. "Yeah, I guess I just felt like coming back."

The priest studied him for a moment before chuckling. "Something tells me it's not just the church that brought you here."

Alessandro scratched the back of his head. "Maybe."

The priest motioned for him to follow. "Come, let's take a walk outside."

As they stepped out into the quiet courtyard behind the church, Alessandro found himself relaxing. The priest walked at a slow pace, hands behind his back, clearly in no rush.

"Tell me, Alex… what is it that you're looking for?"

Alessandro thought about it for a moment before responding. "Peace."

The priest nodded. "And yet, your heart seems restless."

Alessandro sighed. "It is."

The priest stopped walking and looked at him kindly. "Whatever is troubling you, I hope you find the answers you seek."

Before Alessandro could respond, a familiar voice called out from the other side of the courtyard.

"Papa, who are you talking to?"

Alessandro turned to see Isabella approaching, holding a book against her chest. The priest smiled knowingly.

"Ah, Isabella. You remember Alex, don't you?"

Isabella stepped closer, her curious eyes scanning Alessandro. Then, recognition flickered across her face, and a small smirk formed on her lips.

"Oh, right," she said, crossing her arms. "You're the one who compared yourself to Spider-Man."

Alessandro chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guilty as charged."

The priest raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Spider-Man? I don't recall meeting a superhero in my church."

Isabella let out a small laugh. "He was being dramatic. Said something about how Spider-Man had to hide who he really was, and how he related to that."

Alessandro shrugged. "Well, he did, didn't he?" He glanced at the priest. "It's a decent comparison."

The priest gave him a knowing look. "Perhaps. But even Peter Parker had to take off the mask eventually."

Alessandro hesitated. There was weight behind those words, and he wasn't sure if the priest was just speaking generally or if he saw right through his disguise.

Isabella tilted her head, shifting the book in her arms. "So, Alex, what brings you back today? You here for confession again?"

"Not exactly," Alessandro admitted. "I just… felt like coming back."

The priest smiled. "It's good to see a young man return to the house of God, no matter the reason." He then gestured toward the book Isabella was holding. "Isabella was just about to study in the courtyard. Maybe you two can keep each other company for a while."

Isabella glanced at Alessandro, considering the offer. Then, with a slight shrug, she pulled out a chair at one of the stone tables.

"If you're not in a rush, you can stay," she said. "Just don't go quoting superhero movies the whole time."

Alessandro smirked as he took a seat across from her. "No promises."

The priest gave them a parting glance before heading back inside, leaving the two alone under the soft afternoon light.

Alessandro leaned back in his seat, watching as Isabella opened her book. He tilted his head slightly, trying to get a better look at the title.

"So, what are you reading?" he asked.

Isabella glanced up before turning the book slightly toward him. "It's The Confessions by Saint Augustine."

Alessandro raised an eyebrow. "Heavy read."

She smirked. "Yeah, but it's interesting. It's about his journey from a reckless youth to finding faith. My dad suggested it."

Alessandro nodded, tapping his fingers on the table. "A prodigal son kind of story?"

Isabella shrugged. "Sort of. But more about self-discovery." She studied him for a second before adding, "Why? You interested in theology?"

Alessandro chuckled. "Not exactly, but I do like stories. Especially ones about redemption."

Isabella tapped her fingers against the book. "You don't strike me as someone who needs redemption."

Alessandro hesitated, thinking about his life—the fame, the pressure, the constant need to prove himself. He wasn't sure if he needed redemption, but he definitely felt like he was searching for something.

"Maybe not in the way Saint Augustine did," he admitted. "But everyone has something they're trying to figure out, right?"

Isabella nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I suppose." She then narrowed her eyes slightly. "You're really different from the usual people who come here."

Alessandro smirked. "Let me guess. A lot of elderly folks and the occasional lost soul?"

She laughed softly. "Basically. You don't seem lost, though."

Alessandro exhaled, looking down at the table before meeting her gaze. "Maybe I am, in a way."

There was a brief silence, not uncomfortable but filled with unspoken thoughts. Then, Isabella shifted the conversation.

"So, Alex, what do you do? You never actually told me last time."

Alessandro froze for a fraction of a second. He had avoided this question before, but now it was unavoidable.

"I, uh… travel a lot for work," he said vaguely.

Isabella raised an eyebrow. "Vague answer. You a secret agent or something?"

Alessandro chuckled. "Something like that."

Isabella smirked. "Okay, mystery man. What kind of work makes you want to hide out in a small church?"

Alessandro hesitated again, choosing his words carefully. "It's… demanding. A lot of pressure, always being watched, judged. Sometimes it feels like I can't really be myself."

Isabella nodded, seemingly understanding more than he expected. "That sounds exhausting."

"It is."

She studied him for a moment before closing her book. "Well, if you ever want to escape all that, this place is good for it."

Alessandro felt something shift inside him—like, for the first time in a while, he wasn't being seen as Alessandro Inzaghi, football star. Just Alex.

"Thanks," he said sincerely. "I might take you up on that."

Isabella smiled, and for the first time in a long time, Alessandro felt a little lighter.

Isabella leaned back slightly, tapping her fingers against the cover of her book.

"So, Alex," she said, a playful smirk on her lips. "Since you're so mysterious, tell me something real about yourself."

Alessandro raised an eyebrow. "Something real?"

"Yeah, like… I don't know. What's something you love that has nothing to do with your 'demanding job'?"

He thought about it for a moment before a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I love the sound of a ball hitting the back of a net."

Isabella tilted her head. "That's oddly specific."

Alessandro chuckled. "It's satisfying, you know? That 'thump' when it connects just right."

She narrowed her eyes, studying him. "You a footballer or something?"

His heart skipped a beat, but he kept his cool, shrugging. "I've played a little."

"Mmm." She wasn't convinced but let it go. "Alright, something else then."

He grinned. "I make a killer pasta."

Isabella laughed. "Oh really?"

"Yep. My dad taught me when I was a kid." He leaned forward slightly. "Best carbonara you'll ever have."

"Bold claim, Alex."

"It's true," he said with exaggerated confidence. "I'll prove it to you one day."

Isabella rolled her eyes, but she was clearly amused. "Alright, I'll hold you to that."

There was a pause, a comfortable silence between them. Alessandro found himself relaxing in a way he rarely did with strangers. There was something about her—maybe it was the fact that she wasn't treating him like a superstar, but just as a guy named Alex.

Then, Isabella's eyes suddenly lit up as if she had a realization.

"Wait a second…" She pointed at him. "Last time we spoke, you said something weird in the confessional."

Alessandro's heart pounded. "Weird?"

"Yeah. You compared yourself to… Spider-Man?"

He froze for a second before laughing. "I was just messing around."

Isabella folded her arms, grinning. "So what, are you living some double life like Peter Parker?"

Alessandro smirked. "You could say that."

She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Mysterious guy who hides his real job and sneaks into churches in disguise. Yeah, you're totally Spider-Man."

He couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, you got me."

Isabella shook her head, still smiling. "Well, Alex, whoever you really are, you're definitely something else."

Alessandro felt something warm in his chest at that. Maybe, just maybe, this whole thing—coming here, meeting her—wasn't such a crazy idea after all.

Alessandro leaned against one of the church pews, the playful smirk still on his face as he watched Isabella shake her head.

"So, do I at least get to know something about you?" he asked. "Or is this a one-sided interrogation?"

Isabella chuckled. "Fair enough. What do you want to know?"

"Hmm…" Alessandro tapped his chin in thought. "Alright, tell me about that book you always have with you. You were holding one the last time we met too."

Isabella glanced down at the book in her hands, running her fingers over the worn edges of the cover. "It's called Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke."

Alessandro raised an eyebrow. "A poet? Didn't take you for the poetic type."

She smiled. "Why? Because I don't sit around quoting Shakespeare?"

He chuckled. "Maybe."

Isabella rolled her eyes. "Rilke's different. His letters are about life, love, art… but more importantly, about patience. He writes about trusting the journey, even when you don't have all the answers yet."

Alessandro nodded, intrigued. "Sounds deep."

"It is," she said. "And sometimes, when I feel lost, I read it. It reminds me that not everything needs to be figured out right away."

Alessandro hummed in thought. "So… does that mean you feel lost right now?"

Isabella hesitated for a second before shrugging. "Sometimes."

Alessandro leaned in slightly. "Like what?"

She exhaled softly. "Like… what I'm supposed to do next in life. Whether I should stay here or leave. If I'm really making a difference, or if I'm just wasting time in this small part of the city."

Alessandro studied her for a moment. There was something about the way she said it, like she was carrying more weight than she let on.

"I don't think you're wasting time," he said. "I mean, I barely know you, but you seem like the kind of person who matters wherever she is."

Isabella looked at him, slightly caught off guard. "That's… really nice of you to say."

Alessandro shrugged. "Just saying what I see."

She smiled softly before shaking her head. "You know, for someone who hides his identity and compares himself to Spider-Man, you're oddly insightful."

He laughed. "I contain multitudes."

She chuckled. "Clearly."

There was a pause before Alessandro glanced at the book in her hands again. "So, what's your favorite line from it?"

Isabella thought for a moment before reciting, "'Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves… Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now.'"

Alessandro let the words settle between them.

"Live the questions now, huh?" he repeated.

She nodded. "Yeah. Instead of obsessing over the answers, just live. The answers will come when they're meant to."

Alessandro exhaled. "I like that."

Isabella smiled. "I thought you might."

For the first time in a long time, Alessandro felt something he hadn't felt in a while. A moment of stillness. Of clarity. Maybe, just maybe, meeting Isabella wasn't just about disguises and curiosity. Maybe she was someone he was meant to meet.

And maybe… he was finally starting to live the questions.

Alessandro tilted his head, watching Isabella with newfound curiosity. The words from Letters to a Young Poet still lingered in his mind, but there was something else there too—an impulse, a feeling he didn't want to ignore.

"You know," he said, crossing his arms, "since you're all about 'living the questions,' I've got one for you."

Isabella raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And what's that?"

Alessandro flashed a small grin. "Would you like to grab a coffee with me?"

Isabella blinked in surprise, then let out a soft laugh. "You're really leaning into this 'living in the moment' thing, huh?"

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "You inspired me."

She studied him for a moment, as if trying to read between the lines of his invitation. "You don't seem like a guy who has trouble finding company for coffee."

Alessandro smirked. "That's true. But most people I meet don't quote poetry at me or make me think about life like you just did."

Isabella chuckled, shaking her head. "You're smooth, you know that?"

"I try."

She sighed playfully before finally nodding. "Alright, Alex. Coffee sounds nice."

Alessandro's grin widened, but before he could say anything, the priest—who had been standing nearby, listening with a knowing smile—cleared his throat.

"Just coffee, hm?" the priest asked with a teasing glint in his eyes.

Isabella shot her father a look. "Yes, Papa. Just coffee."

Alessandro laughed, lifting his hands in innocence. "Strictly coffee. No sins being committed, I promise."

The priest chuckled, shaking his head. "Just be respectful, young man. She's my daughter, after all."

Alessandro met his gaze and nodded sincerely. "Of course, sir."

Isabella rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. "Alright then, mystery man. Where are we going for this coffee?"

Alessandro thought for a moment before smirking. "Do you trust me to pick the spot?"

She considered for a second before nodding. "Alright, Spider-Man. Surprise me."

Alessandro grinned. "I won't disappoint."

As they stepped out of the church together, Alessandro felt something different—a genuine excitement, one not fueled by fame or expectations. Just two people, getting to know each other.

And for once, he wasn't Alessandro Inzaghi, the football star. He was just Alex.

Alessandro led Isabella to a quiet, charming café tucked away in a small alley, far from the bustling city streets. It was the kind of place where people went to disappear into a good book, where the scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, and the warm lighting made everything feel a little more intimate.

"You come here often?" Isabella asked as she glanced around.

Alessandro shook his head with a smirk. "First time, actually. But I asked around for a place with the best coffee and the least chance of running into anyone who might recognize me."

Isabella tilted her head. "You mean people who might recognize 'Alex' or… someone else?"

Alessandro chuckled, pulling out a chair for her before sitting down. "Let's just say I have to be careful where I go. Fame has its price."

Isabella studied him for a moment, as if trying to piece together the contradictions he carried. "Must be exhausting."

"More than you know."

A waiter arrived, and the two quickly placed their orders—an espresso for Alessandro, a caramel macchiato for Isabella.

"So," Alessandro leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Tell me something about you. Something no one else knows."

Isabella raised an eyebrow. "That's a bold question."

"Well, I like bold questions," Alessandro said with a smirk. "Helps me live in the moment."

Isabella tapped her fingers against her cup as she thought. "Alright… something no one else knows?" She hesitated, then smiled. "I wanted to be a singer when I was younger."

Alessandro's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

She nodded, laughing softly. "Yeah. I used to sing in the church choir, and for a while, I thought I'd pursue music. But… life had other plans. I guess I never had the confidence to chase it seriously."

Alessandro tapped his fingers against the table. "I think confidence comes with practice. Maybe you just need the right moment to try again."

She smiled, looking down at her cup. "Maybe."

"So, you've got a hidden talent," Alessandro said. "Now I feel like I have to match that."

Isabella smirked. "Go on then, mystery man. What's something no one knows about you?"

Alessandro thought for a moment, then grinned. "I used to write poetry in school. You know, before life got… crazy."

Isabella's eyes widened slightly. "Poetry? That's unexpected."

Alessandro shrugged. "Yeah, I liked words. Still do. I just never had the chance to really dive into it after football took over."

Isabella looked at him curiously. "Do you still write?"

Alessandro hesitated. "Not as much as I'd like to. But I guess, in a way, football is my poetry now. The way I move, the way I see the game—it's my way of expressing myself."

Isabella smiled. "That's a beautiful way of looking at it."

The two continued talking, lost in conversation as their coffee grew cold. Alessandro found himself enjoying the ease of it—the way he didn't have to put on a front, the way Isabella spoke to him like he was just a regular person.

For the first time in a long while, Alessandro felt like he was truly being seen—not as a football star, not as a celebrity, but just as himself.

And he liked it.

As their conversation flowed effortlessly, Alessandro found himself more and more intrigued by Isabella. There was something about her—her sincerity, her quiet confidence—that made him feel at ease. He wasn't used to this. Usually, people either idolized him or tried to take advantage of his fame. But Isabella didn't seem interested in any of that. She was just… real.

After a while, she glanced at the time on her phone and sighed. "I should probably get going soon. My dad's expecting me to help out at the church later."

Alessandro hesitated for a moment, not wanting their time to end just yet. But he knew he couldn't keep her forever. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulling out his own phone. "Before you go, can I get your number?"

Isabella raised an amused eyebrow. "So you can schedule another deep conversation about poetry and football?"

Alessandro smirked. "Exactly. Plus, I need someone to keep me humble."

She laughed softly, taking his phone and typing in her number before handing it back. "Alright, but no spam texts. And definitely no overused pickup lines."

Alessandro grinned. "Damn, there go half my messages."

Isabella rolled her eyes playfully. "I'll allow one bad joke per week."

"Deal." Alessandro pocketed his phone and leaned back in his chair, watching as Isabella stood up and gathered her things.

"It was nice talking to you, Alex," she said with a small smile.

"Likewise, Isabella."

As she walked toward the café entrance, Alessandro found himself watching her go, a rare feeling settling in his chest. For the first time in a long while, he wasn't thinking about football, the next match, or the pressures of his career.

He was just thinking about her.

Alessandro returned to the makeup artist's studio, still feeling the warmth of his conversation with Isabella. He plopped down onto the chair, running a hand through his disguised hair with a grin.

"Mission success?" the makeup artist asked, raising an eyebrow as he cleaned his brushes.

"Success," Alessandro confirmed, unable to hide his excitement. "We had coffee, talked a lot, and I got her number."

The makeup artist clapped his hands together dramatically. "Finally, the great Alessandro Inzaghi finds a girl who's not after his fame. I knew you had it in you!"

Alessandro chuckled, but before he could bask in the moment, the makeup artist's expression changed as if he suddenly remembered something important.

"Wait… aren't you forgetting something?"

Alessandro frowned slightly. "Forgetting what?"

The makeup artist smirked knowingly and crossed his arms. "Lunch with Jordana Massaro."

Alessandro's heart nearly dropped. "Shit." He leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. "I completely forgot about that."

The makeup artist shook his head with a laugh. "My friend, you're in a situation. You've got the priest's daughter on one side and Spain's celebrity queen on the other. Quite the contrast."

Alessandro rubbed his face, thinking. "What do I even do? I mean, I didn't say yes to Jordana, but she still invited me. And if I go, it could cause a media storm. If I don't, I might offend her."

The makeup artist leaned on the counter, watching him closely. "Depends on what you want, Ale. Do you want a quiet life with a normal girl? Or do you want to embrace the high-profile world with someone who's used to fame?"

Alessandro sighed. "I don't even know… but I should at least go to the lunch and see what she wants."

The makeup artist grinned. "In that case, you better get going. You wouldn't want to keep a woman like Jordana Massaro waiting."

Alessandro nodded, grabbing his jacket. "This is going to be interesting."

Alessandro arrived at the upscale Madrid restaurant where he was set to meet Jordana Massaro. Dressed in a casual yet elegant outfit, he walked through the doors, nodding at the occasional glances from waiters and guests who recognized him. The restaurant was dimly lit, romantic in its ambiance, and clearly a spot where celebrities and socialites dined in peace.

Jordana was already seated at a private booth near the back. She looked effortlessly stunning—her wavy dark hair falling perfectly over her shoulders, a sleek black dress accentuating her figure. She smiled as she saw him approach, standing up slightly to greet him with a kiss on both cheeks.

"Alejandro," she teased, using the Spanish version of his name. "Right on time."

He chuckled, taking a seat. "Well, I couldn't keep Spain's queen of fashion waiting, could I?"

She smirked, tilting her head. "Flattery will get you everywhere, you know."

A waiter arrived to take their orders, and after a brief exchange, they settled on a bottle of red wine and two of the restaurant's signature dishes.

Jordana leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. "So, I have to admit, I was a little surprised when you didn't immediately reach out after our first meeting. Most men would've jumped at the chance to have lunch with me."

Alessandro gave a small smile, playing with the stem of his wine glass. "I'm not most men."

She studied him for a moment before laughing softly. "No, you're not. That's what intrigued me."

The conversation flowed smoothly—Jordana spoke about her career in fashion media, the pressure of constantly being in the public eye, and how she had to navigate the fine line between being a journalist and being a public figure herself. Alessandro, in turn, shared stories about his transition to Real Madrid, the intensity of Spanish football, and his personal goals.

Then, she leaned back and looked at him more seriously. "You don't seem like the type who enjoys fame as much as most footballers do. Am I wrong?"

Alessandro hesitated for a moment before answering. "I love football. The fame is just something that comes with it. Sometimes, I think it's a blessing… sometimes, I think it's a curse."

Jordana raised an eyebrow. "A curse? That's dramatic."

He sighed, swirling the wine in his glass. "You'd be surprised how many people just see the fame, the money, and not the person behind it. It makes it hard to trust… and even harder to find something real."

She tapped her manicured nails against the table, her gaze unreadable. "And what do you consider real?"

Alessandro thought of Isabella for a split second before shaking the thought away. "Something where I don't have to question if the person is here for me or the name 'Inzaghi'."

Jordana smiled, but there was a certain sharpness in her eyes. "You're an interesting man, Alessandro. I think I like that about you."

The rest of the dinner carried on with playful conversation and a few laughs, but Alessandro couldn't shake the feeling that, despite Jordana's beauty and charm, there was something calculated about her. He wasn't sure what she wanted—but he was sure she wasn't someone who let things happen by accident.

As the dinner wrapped up and they stepped outside, Jordana placed a gentle hand on his arm. "I had a great time. We should do this again soon."

Alessandro gave a polite smile. "Yeah, maybe we should."

She leaned in, close enough that he could smell her perfume. "Or… we skip the formalities and just see where the night takes us?"

Alessandro chuckled, shaking his head. "Tempting. But I've got training tomorrow."

She pouted playfully. "Discipline. I like that."

As she slid into the back of a chauffeured car, Alessandro let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair.

Jordana Massaro was definitely interested. But was she interested in him—or just the idea of him?

[xXx]

Later that night, Alessandro found himself at Cristiano Ronaldo's house. It wasn't unusual for him to drop by—Cristiano had taken him under his wing ever since he joined Real Madrid, and their bond had grown quickly.

As Alessandro stepped inside, he was greeted by Cristiano Jr., who ran up to him excitedly. "Ale! Did you write more in your notebook?"

Alessandro ruffled the boy's hair with a grin. "Not yet, buddy. But maybe tonight."

Cristiano walked in from the living room, wearing casual training gear, likely just finishing a late-night workout. "Alessandro, you look like a man who has something on his mind," he observed, crossing his arms.

Alessandro sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know me too well, man."

"Come," Cristiano motioned towards the couch. "Sit. Tell me what's bothering you."

Once they were seated, Alessandro leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It's about Jordana Massaro."

Cristiano smirked. "Ah. The famous TV host. She's a beautiful woman."

"Yeah, she is," Alessandro admitted. "And dinner with her was… interesting. She's confident, charming, but…" He paused, struggling to put his thoughts into words.

Cristiano tilted his head. "But?"

"I can't tell if she actually likes me or if she just likes the idea of being with a footballer," Alessandro said honestly. "I mean, she's used to celebrities. She probably knows how to play the game better than I do."

Cristiano let out a small chuckle and shook his head. "Alessandro, this is something every famous man has to deal with. You're young, rich, successful—women like Jordana will always be around. The question is, do you want to play her game, or do you want something more?"

Alessandro exhaled, staring at the floor. "I don't know, man. I just don't want to get caught up in something that isn't real."

Cristiano nodded. "Then you need to test her. See how she reacts when the cameras aren't on, when there's no audience. If she's only interested in the superstar Alessandro Inzaghi, she won't have patience for the real you."

Alessandro thought about it for a moment. "That makes sense."

Cristiano leaned forward. "And let me give you some advice—never let a woman rush you into something you're unsure about. Take your time. If she's genuine, she'll understand. If not, you'll know soon enough."

Alessandro nodded, feeling a bit lighter. "Thanks, Cris. I needed that."

Cristiano grinned. "Anytime. Now, come on. I'm making my special post-workout meal. You eat, you think, and tomorrow, you focus on football."

As Alessandro followed Cristiano into the kitchen, he couldn't help but smile. He had a lot to think about—but at least he had good people around him to keep him grounded.

As Cristiano pulled out ingredients from the fridge, Alessandro hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Hey, Cris… can I crash here tonight?"

Cristiano paused, raising an eyebrow. "You want to sleep over?"

Alessandro chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, man. I don't know, I just—sometimes my house feels too big, too empty. Gets a little lonely, you know?"

Cristiano's expression softened. He understood that feeling all too well. "Of course, bro. Mi casa es tu casa."

"Thanks, man." Alessandro exhaled, relieved.

Cristiano smirked. "But no excuses in the morning. We train early."

Alessandro grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Cristiano Jr., who had been listening from the hallway, beamed. "Ale's sleeping over? Yes! Can we play FIFA before bed?"

Alessandro laughed. "Only if you promise not to pick your dad's team just to beat me."

Cristiano ruffled his son's hair. "Alright, you two. Let's eat first. Then FIFA, then sleep."

As they settled down for the night, Alessandro felt something he hadn't in a long time—comfort. It wasn't just about staying at a friend's house. It was about feeling like he had a family away from home.

The morning sun peeked through the curtains of Cristiano's guest room as Alessandro groggily reached for his phone. Blinking the sleep away, he unlocked his screen and instinctively opened Instagram to check what was happening around him.

As he scrolled, a few notifications caught his eye:

Jordana Massaro had posted a photo of her morning coffee with the caption: "Some moments are best enjoyed in great company. #Grateful #MadridLife"

Isabella had shared a Bible verse on her story, accompanied by a peaceful photo of the small church he visited.

Real Madrid's official account had uploaded a picture of him from training with the caption: "El Mago Inzaghi putting in the work ahead of the weekend! "

Cristiano had tagged him in a story from last night with Junior, where they were locked in a tense FIFA match. The caption read: "Junior finally met his match alessandroinzaghi"

Alessandro chuckled. He double-tapped the post and replied to Cris's story with a laughing emoji.

Then, he noticed the comments under Real Madrid's training post. Fans were buzzing:

"El Mago! We're lucky to have him at Madrid."

"More assists, more goals—this guy's the future."

"He's reminding me of Kaka and Ronaldinho combined."

"Madridistas, we have a special one."

The praise felt good, but his mind drifted elsewhere—back to Isabella, back to Jordana. Two completely different women, two different worlds. One felt like peace, the other like a whirlwind.

Just then, a knock on his door snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Vamos, Ale! Time to train!" Cristiano's voice rang through the hallway.

Alessandro took a deep breath, put his phone away, and got up. Time to focus on football—for now.

As Alessandro laced up his running shoes, he pulled out his phone and dialed his father's number. The dial tone buzzed for a moment before Filippo Inzaghi's familiar voice came through.

"Ale! Buongiorno, figlio mio. How are you?"

Alessandro smiled. "Buongiorno, Papà. I'm good—just getting ready for a run with Cristiano before training. Thought I'd check in on you first."

Filippo chuckled. "Running with Cristiano? Careful, he'll push you to exhaustion before training even starts."

Alessandro laughed. "I know, but that's part of the challenge. Gotta keep up with the best."

"You're already one of the best, Alessandro," Filippo said proudly. "I saw the Madrid derby. You were brilliant. The way you played reminded me of that young boy who used to practice finishing for hours at Milanello."

Alessandro grinned. "I had to put on a show. But enough about me—how's Sevilla treating you?"

Filippo let out a small sigh. "Busy. The league is competitive, and we're preparing for our next match. It's been an adjustment, but I love the challenge. The players respect me, and the fans are passionate."

"That's good to hear, Papà. You deserve that respect."

There was a brief silence before Filippo spoke again. "And how are you, really? I know Madrid has been amazing for your career, but how are you handling everything off the pitch?"

Alessandro hesitated for a moment before sighing. "It's… complicated. There's a lot happening. Football is great, but life outside of it? A bit messy."

Filippo's voice softened. "What's going on?"

Alessandro ran a hand through his hair. "Two women, Papà. Two very different women. One is a journalist, glamorous, charming… the other is simple, kind, pure-hearted."

Filippo chuckled knowingly. "Ah, the classic dilemma. You've always been passionate, Ale. But be careful—fame attracts all kinds of people."

"I know, that's why I'm being careful," Alessandro said. "I just don't want to make a mistake."

Filippo paused before offering his wisdom. "Follow your heart, but don't let emotions blind you. The right person will bring you peace, not confusion. And remember, love isn't a game—it's something you build with trust."

Alessandro absorbed his father's words, nodding. "Thanks, Papà. I needed that."

Filippo smiled. "Always here for you, figlio mio. Now go, before Cristiano starts running laps without you."

Alessandro laughed. "I'll talk to you later, Papà. Love you."

"Love you too, Ale. Forza!"

As the call ended, Alessandro took a deep breath. His father's words echoed in his mind. Maybe he already knew who he was leaning towards—he just needed to figure out what to do next.

Alessandro Inzaghi's Magic in October: The Show Continues

After Real Madrid's triumph in the Madrid Derby, Alessandro Inzaghi's form only grew stronger as he dazzled fans, entertained like Ronaldinho, and continued his impressive streak of assists and goals. His October performances solidified his status as one of the most exciting young players in world football.

LaLiga Matchweek 8 – Real Madrid vs Levante (October 17, 2015)

Final Score: Real Madrid 3-0 Levante
(Alessandro: 1 goal, 1 assist)

Fresh from the international break, Alessandro was electric right from kickoff.

10' – First Assist: With his usual flair, Alessandro danced past two defenders with a slick elastico before rolling a no-look pass to Gareth Bale, who smashed it into the net.

35' – Alessandro's Goal: Marcelo sent a long diagonal pass, and Alessandro controlled it beautifully with his right foot, flicked it past a defender, and buried it into the bottom corner with his left.

70' – Entertaining Footwork: With Madrid cruising, Alessandro toyed with Levante's defense, performing a cheeky sombrero flick over one player before backheeling a pass to Luka Modrić, drawing applause from the Bernabéu.

His Ronaldinho-esque flair and dual-footed precision continued to amaze the Madridistas.

UEFA Champions League Group Stage – PSG vs Real Madrid (October 21, 2015)

Final Score: PSG 1-1 Real Madrid
(Alessandro: 1 assist)

Facing PSG at the Parc des Princes, Alessandro shone under the floodlights in one of the biggest tests of the group stage.

20' – Stunning Assist: With three defenders closing in on him near the box, Alessandro flicked the ball over their heads with his left foot before volleying a cross with his right. Cristiano Ronaldo connected with a powerful header, putting Madrid ahead.

50' – Nutmegs and Skill Moves: In the second half, Alessandro nutmegged Marco Verratti, followed by a La Croqueta to get past Thiago Silva, drawing gasps from the crowd.

Though PSG equalized late, Alessandro's creativity had once again made an impact.

LaLiga Matchweek 9 – Celta Vigo vs Real Madrid (October 24, 2015)

Final Score: Real Madrid 3-1 Celta Vigo
(Alessandro: 1 goal, 2 assists)

In an away game at Balaídos, Alessandro continued his incredible form.

12' – First Assist: Alessandro skipped past two defenders using a mesmerizing step-over sequence before delivering a perfect trivela cross to Isco, who volleyed it home.

55' – Alessandro's Goal: Running onto a through ball from Modrić, Alessandro pulled off a fake shot with his right foot, making the goalkeeper dive, then gently chipped the ball with his left.

78' – Second Assist: With Celta pushing forward, Alessandro launched a counter-attack, sprinting past defenders and playing a pinpoint cut-back pass to Jesé Rodríguez, who finished smoothly.

His ability to create and finish with both feet was proving to be a nightmare for defenders.

LaLiga Matchweek 10 – Real Madrid vs Las Palmas (October 31, 2015)

Final Score: Real Madrid 4-1 Las Palmas
(Alessandro: 2 goals, 1 assist)

Ending October with a dominant display at the Bernabéu, Alessandro left fans speechless with his magic.

5' – Alessandro's Goal: In just the fifth minute, he received the ball at the edge of the box, feigned a right-footed shot, then instantly curled a left-footed strike into the top corner.

30' – Skill Show & Assist: Dribbling past two defenders with a series of step-overs and flicks, Alessandro then backheeled a pass into the path of Toni Kroos, who finished with precision.

65' – Second Goal: With the Las Palmas defense backing off, Alessandro executed a Ronaldinho-like scoop turn to create space before drilling a powerful shot into the bottom corner.

As the final whistle blew, Alessandro received a standing ovation.

Conclusion – Alessandro's Dominant October

With 5 goals and 5 assists across four matches in LaLiga and the Champions League, Alessandro continued to elevate Real Madrid with his artistry. His ability to both score and create using both feet, combined with his entertainment factor, made him one of the most thrilling players in the world to watch.

The world was witnessing something special—Alessandro Inzaghi was becoming unstoppable.

Alessandro Inzaghi's Magical November – LaLiga Player of the Month

As November unfolded, Alessandro Inzaghi reached new heights, mesmerizing fans and teammates alike with his dazzling skills, dual-footed wizardry, and decisive contributions. His performances throughout the month not only helped Real Madrid maintain their dominance in LaLiga but also earned him the prestigious LaLiga Player of the Month award.

LaLiga Matchweek 11 – Sevilla vs Real Madrid (November 8, 2015)

Final Score: Sevilla 2-3 Real Madrid
(Alessandro: 1 goal, 1 assist)

Returning to his father's former club, Alessandro faced a motivated Sevilla side at the Ramón Sánchez Pizjuán. Despite a hostile atmosphere, he thrived under pressure.

15' – Skillful Assist: Alessandro toyed with Sevilla's midfield, dancing past two players with a La Croqueta before flicking a trivela pass to Cristiano Ronaldo, who powered it home.

60' – Alessandro's Goal: With Madrid trailing 2-1, he latched onto a long pass from Luka Modrić, controlled it mid-air with his left foot, spun past his marker, and smashed a right-footed shot into the top corner.

85' – Entertaining Footwork: With the game level, Alessandro juggled the ball with multiple keep-ups, then flicked it over a defender's head before passing to Gareth Bale, who won a crucial free-kick.

Madrid clinched victory late, and Alessandro's magic was instrumental in the comeback.

UEFA Champions League – Real Madrid vs PSG (November 11, 2015)

Final Score: Real Madrid 2-0 PSG
(Alessandro: 1 assist)

A crucial Champions League night at the Bernabéu saw Alessandro once again shine against PSG.

30' – Dribbling Masterclass: Alessandro dribbled past Thiago Silva with a step-over nutmeg, then spun away from Marquinhos with a Zidane turn, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

55' – Assist: On the counterattack, he sprinted down the left, cut inside, and played a precise outside-foot cross to Karim Benzema's replacement, who nodded it home.

75' – Joga Bonito Moment: Near the corner flag, Alessandro flicked the ball behind his standing leg, spinning past his marker like Ronaldinho before playfully rolling it between Verratti's legs.

Madrid secured qualification to the UCL knockout stages, with Alessandro's flair captivating Europe.

LaLiga Matchweek 12 – Real Madrid vs Barcelona (November 21, 2015 – El Clásico)

Final Score: Real Madrid 4-1 Barcelona
(Alessandro: 2 goals, 1 assist)

With the world watching, Alessandro Inzaghi produced a legendary performance in his first El Clásico at the Santiago Bernabéu.

10' – Assist for Ronaldo: Alessandro, deep in midfield, performed a Sombrero Flick over Sergio Busquets, sprinted forward, and threaded a perfect ball to Ronaldo, who slotted it past Claudio Bravo.

35' – Alessandro's Goal: Receiving a pass outside the box, Alessandro faked a right-footed shot, cutting inside Gerard Piqué before curling a left-footed strike into the top corner. The stadium erupted.

55' – Playful Brilliance: With Neymar pressing, Alessandro flicked the ball over him with a backheel volley, performed a double step-over, and passed through to Modrić in one smooth motion.

80' – Alessandro's Second Goal: After intercepting a loose pass, he dribbled past Dani Alves, scooped the ball over Mascherano, and volleyed home a stunning right-footed strike from the edge of the box.

The Bernabéu crowd gave him a standing ovation as El Clásico became El Show de Alessandro.

LaLiga Matchweek 13 – Eibar vs Real Madrid (November 29, 2015)

Final Score: Real Madrid 3-1 Eibar
(Alessandro: 1 goal, 2 assists)

Despite wet conditions in Ipurua, Alessandro continued his unstoppable form against a defensive-minded Eibar.

20' – First Assist: Alessandro cheekily scooped a pass over the defense for James Rodríguez, who volleyed it home.

40' – Alessandro's Goal: Stealing the ball high up the pitch, Alessandro nutmegged his marker and unleashed a thunderous left-footed strike into the net.

75' – Second Assist: Dribbling past two defenders, he cut the ball back for Isco, who slotted it in off the post.

Another match, another show. Alessandro's footwork had defenders dizzy.

Conclusion – Alessandro Wins LaLiga Player of the Month

With 6 goals and 5 assists in LaLiga and another assist in the UCL, Alessandro was unstoppable in November. His breathtaking El Clásico display and his showboating dominance across all matches led to him being named LaLiga Player of the Month at just 18 years old.

The football world wasn't just witnessing a star—Alessandro Inzaghi was becoming a phenomenon.

Alessandro sat at his dining table, staring at the elegant invitation in his hands. The golden embossed lettering on the envelope reflected the morning light filtering through the windows. He let out a deep breath, a mix of pride and anticipation settling in his chest.

Three years in a row. Three years of attending the most prestigious football ceremony in the world.

His mind flickered back to 2013, when he walked onto the stage as a 16-year-old, accepting the Puskás Award for his stunning goal with AC Milan. Then 2014, where he stood before the world's football elite, receiving the Golden Ball for his heroics in the World Cup. And now, 2015, with another incredible year behind him—his first at Real Madrid—he was invited again.

As he traced the lettering on the invitation, Alessandro picked up his phone and dialed his father, Filippo.

"Hey, Papà," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. "Guess what?"

Filippo answered the call almost immediately, his voice carrying that familiar warmth. "Alessandro, my boy! You sound excited. What's going on?"

Alessandro chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "I just got the official invitation to the Ballon d'Or ceremony."

There was a brief pause before Filippo let out a proud laugh. "Ah! That's fantastic, figlio mio! Three years in a row… You're building quite the legacy."

Alessandro smiled, but there was something lingering at the back of his mind. "It's surreal, Papà. I remember watching you and the greats on TV when I was a kid, dreaming of just playing at this level. And now, I'm going to my third Ballon d'Or ceremony."

"You've worked hard for this, Alessandro," Filippo said firmly. "Real Madrid has been the perfect stage for you, and you've proven yourself again and again. This is only the beginning."

Alessandro exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "You think I have a real shot at winning it?"

Filippo chuckled. "I won't lie to you, son. Messi and Cristiano have been dominating for years, and Neymar has been exceptional as well. But your performances, your entertainment value, your ability to decide games… You're in that conversation now. Just being nominated at your age is a huge achievement."

Alessandro nodded, his father's words settling in. "Yeah, I get that. But, Papà, it would be incredible to win it. To stand on that stage and bring it home. It's not just about me—it's about everyone who believed in me, who supported me."

Filippo's voice softened. "Then keep doing what you do best. Play with joy, keep working hard, and stay humble. Your time will come, and when it does, it will be all the sweeter."

Alessandro smiled. "Thanks, Papà. That means a lot."

"Of course, son. And hey," Filippo added with a teasing tone, "just make sure you don't let that Madrid fame get to your head. I heard about a certain fashionista inviting you to lunch."

Alessandro groaned, shaking his head. "Papà, not you too!"

Filippo laughed heartily. "What? You're young, talented, and famous—it's only natural. Just don't let any distractions take you away from your true passion."

Alessandro sighed, but a smile remained on his face. "I know, I know. Football first."

"That's my boy," Filippo said proudly. "Now, enjoy this moment, and when the ceremony comes, walk in there with your head held high. No matter what happens, you're already making history."

Alessandro nodded, gripping the invitation a little tighter. "I will, Papà. Grazie."

[xXx]

Alessandro lay back on his couch, his fingers swiftly typing a response to Isabella's latest message. Their conversations had become something he looked forward to, a breath of fresh air away from the glitz and pressure of his life as a footballer.

Isabella: So, Alex, if you had to pick between coffee or books for the rest of your life, what would it be?

He chuckled, shaking his head as he quickly typed back.

Alessandro: Tough choice. Books can't keep me awake during a long day, but coffee can't tell me a good story. I'd have to go with books… but only if I can still smell coffee in the morning.

As he hovered his thumb over the send button, his phone suddenly lit up with an incoming call—Jordana.

His heart skipped a beat.

He hesitated for a second before answering. "Jordana?"

Her voice came through, laced with irritation. "So, you can pick up the phone. I was starting to think you were ignoring me, Alessandro."

He ran a hand through his hair. "No, no, of course not. I've just been—"

"Busy? Yeah, I noticed," she interrupted, her voice sharp but teasing. "Too busy to reply to my messages but not too busy to be out and about, hmm?"

Alessandro sighed, realizing he had barely responded to her texts since their lunch. "Jordana, I didn't mean to ignore you. Things have just been hectic with training, matches, and everything else."

There was a pause on the other end before she spoke again, this time softer. "I get that, but you could at least send a text. You're not the only one with a busy life, you know."

Alessandro pinched the bridge of his nose. This was getting complicated. "I'll make it up to you, okay?"

Jordana exhaled, her voice regaining its playful charm. "You better. I'll hold you to it."

As he hung up, Alessandro looked back at his phone. The message to Isabella was still unsent.

With a sigh, he finally hit send, but now, his mind was spinning. He was juggling two lives—one as Alessandro Inzaghi, the rising football star, and another as Alex, the anonymous guy seeking something real.

How long could he keep them apart?

Alessandro leaned back in the car seat, staring out at the Madrid skyline as his driver navigated through the streets toward Cristiano Ronaldo's house. His thoughts were a tangled mess—Isabella, Jordana, the Ballon d'Or ceremony, his performances on the pitch. He had tried to avoid Jordana, hoping she would just let things fade, but that clearly wasn't happening.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he muttered, "Maybe I should've just been honest with her from the start."

The car pulled up to Cristiano's lavish home, and before Alessandro could even knock, the door swung open.

"Ah, Ale!" Cristiano grinned, dressed in casual training gear. "Didn't expect you this early. What's up?"

Alessandro stepped in, shaking his head. "Man, I need some advice. The Jordana situation… it's not going away."

Cristiano's grin widened as he closed the door behind them. "Didn't I tell you? Women like her don't just 'forget' about guys like us, especially not when you're Alessandro Inzaghi."

Alessandro flopped onto Cristiano's couch, exhaling. "I ignored her for a while, hoping she'd lose interest, but she called me today. She's not letting go."

Cristiano sat across from him, smirking. "Let me guess—she was a little mad, but still playful?"

Alessandro nodded. "Yeah. She said I should've at least sent a text."

Cristiano leaned back, rubbing his chin. "Alright, listen. If you really want to cut things off, you need to be direct. None of this ignoring and hoping she disappears. You gotta tell her, straight up, that you're not interested in anything serious with her."

Alessandro frowned. "And if she doesn't take it well?"

Cristiano shrugged. "That's on her. But at least you won't be leading her on. Women respect honesty more than games, even if they don't like what they hear."

Alessandro leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "And what if I don't want to completely burn the bridge?"

Cristiano chuckled. "Oh, so you do want to keep her around?"

Alessandro groaned. "Not like that. I just… I don't know, man. She's fun to be around, but I also don't want to be stuck in something I don't really want."

Cristiano nodded. "Then you have to set boundaries. Make it clear that you're focused on football, and that you're not looking for anything beyond casual. If she's cool with that, fine. If not, then you move on."

Alessandro exhaled. "You make it sound easy."

Cristiano smirked. "It's only hard if you overthink it."

Alessandro sat in silence for a moment, processing Cristiano's words. He knew he had to be honest with Jordana. He just hoped she'd take it well.

Alessandro sat on Cristiano's couch, phone in hand, staring at Jordana's contact name on the screen. He let out a deep breath and glanced at Cristiano, who was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, waiting.

"You sure about this?" Alessandro asked, his thumb hovering over the call button.

Cristiano smirked. "You want me to be the judge, right? Put it on loudspeaker, be honest, and let's see if she takes it well."

Alessandro sighed. "Alright." He tapped the screen, and the phone started ringing.

One ring.

Two rings.

Then she answered.

"Ale, finally! I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me." Jordana's voice was playful, but there was an edge to it—like she knew he had been avoiding her.

Alessandro shot Cristiano a glance before replying. "Hey, Jordana. Look, I wanted to talk to you about something important."

Cristiano nodded approvingly, signaling for him to get straight to the point.

"Oh? What is it?" she asked, her tone shifting slightly.

Alessandro exhaled. "Listen, I think you're an amazing person, and I've really enjoyed spending time with you, but I need to be honest. Right now, I'm fully focused on football, and I don't want to lead you on. I'm not looking for anything serious, and I don't want to give you the wrong impression."

There was silence on the other end for a moment. Cristiano raised an eyebrow, watching the situation unfold.

"So… you've been ignoring me just to tell me this?" Jordana finally responded, her voice softer now.

Alessandro winced. "I should've said something earlier, and that's on me. I just didn't know how to say it without sounding like a complete jerk."

Cristiano gave him a thumbs-up, mouthing, "Good, good."

"I see," Jordana said, her tone unreadable. "So, you just want to be friends, then? Or is this your way of cutting me off completely?"

Alessandro hesitated for a second before answering. "I'd like to stay friends if you're okay with that. But I understand if you need space."

Another pause. Then Jordana chuckled softly. "You're lucky you're charming, Ale."

Cristiano smirked and nodded as if to say, "You're in the clear."

"I won't lie, I'm a little disappointed," Jordana continued. "But I respect the honesty. And I can't say I didn't see it coming."

Alessandro let out a breath of relief. "I appreciate that, Jordana. I really do."

"Alright, Inzaghi," she teased, the playfulness returning to her voice. "I'll let you off the hook this time. But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."

Alessandro chuckled. "Duly noted."

"Good. Take care of yourself, Ale."

"You too."

The call ended, and Alessandro turned to Cristiano, who was grinning. "Not bad, amico. You handled that well."

Alessandro shook his head. "Man, that was stressful."

Cristiano laughed. "You survived. And now, you're free to focus on football… and maybe Isabella?"

Alessandro rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his smirk. "One thing at a time, Cris. One thing at a time."

As Alessandro put his phone down, relieved that the conversation with Jordana hadn't gone sideways, he leaned back on Cristiano's couch. He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair before glancing over at his teammate.

"Anyway," he said, shifting the topic, "did you get your Ballon d'Or invitation yet?"

Cristiano smirked, already expecting the question. "Of course. Got it a few days ago. You?"

Alessandro nodded. "Yeah, got mine after the Eibar game." He stretched his legs out, his mind drifting to the upcoming ceremony. "It still feels unreal, you know? This'll be my third one. I remember the first time I went in 2013, I was just a kid winning the Puskás Award. Now I'm here, nominated for the biggest prize."

Cristiano grinned. "You've come a long way, ragazzo. But don't get ahead of yourself. You're up against some tough competition."

Alessandro smirked. "Oh, you mean you?"

Cristiano laughed. "Obviously. But Messi's there too. Neymar, Suarez… It's not going to be easy."

Alessandro leaned forward, his competitive fire lighting up. "I know. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

Cristiano nodded approvingly. "That's the mindset of a champion."

Alessandro grinned. "Speaking of which, what are you wearing to the ceremony? Another flashy suit?"

Cristiano chuckled. "Maybe. Gotta keep the tradition alive."

Alessandro laughed. "If you show up in another diamond-studded tux, I'm sitting at another table."

The two shared a laugh, the tension of the earlier conversation with Jordana completely gone. The Ballon d'Or ceremony was on the horizon, and for Alessandro, it was another step in his journey to footballing greatness.

LaLiga Matchweek 14: Real Madrid vs Getafe (December 5, 2015)

Bernabéu under the December sky. The crowd in full voice. Alessandro Inzaghi, as always, ready to put on a show.

9' - Alessandro's Flair is on Display
With Getafe pressing high, Alessandro drops deep to receive the ball. A defender rushes toward him, but with a simple Elastico followed by a sombrero flick, he dances past two players, bringing the Bernabéu to its feet.

17' - Left-Footed Assist
He dribbles toward the edge of the box, shaking off his marker with a quick body feint before cutting inside on his left foot. Spotting James Rodríguez making a run, Alessandro lifts a delicate chipped pass over the defense. James controls and volleys it in. 1-0 Madrid!

29' - Right-Footed Assist
A breakaway. Cristiano, sprinting down the left, sends a low cross into the box. Alessandro, arriving just outside the six-yard box, could shoot—but instead, he no-look flicks it with his right foot to Gareth Bale, who smashes it in.

55' - Alessandro Scores
A corner from Toni Kroos is cleared out to the edge of the box. Alessandro, positioned perfectly, meets it with a sweetly-struck half-volley on his left foot. The ball rockets into the bottom corner. He jogs to the corner flag, arms wide, as the stadium erupts.

Final score: Real Madrid 4-1 Getafe.

UEFA Champions League Group Stage: Real Madrid vs Malmö (December 8, 2015)

A dead rubber game—Madrid already through. But Alessandro doesn't believe in taking it easy.

12' - Showboating for Fun
Near the sideline, Alessandro is trapped by two Malmö players. Instead of passing, he executes a triple step-over followed by a drag-back nutmeg, leaving the defender frozen. The crowd roars.

33' - Left-Footed Assist
A fast counter-attack. Alessandro, carrying the ball at full speed, bends a left-footed trivela cross into the box. Cristiano meets it with a towering header. Goal!

41' - Right-Footed Assist
He drives into the penalty box, feints a shot with his left, shifts onto his right, and scoops the ball over the goalkeeper to Lucas Vázquez, who taps it in.

Final score: Real Madrid 8-0 Malmö. (A record-breaking UCL win.)

Copa del Rey Round of 32: Cádiz vs Real Madrid (December 2, 2015)

Real Madrid wins 3-1, with Alessandro assisting once. But then... disaster strikes.

Copa del Rey Scandal – December 4, 2015

Reports emerge that Real Madrid fielded Denis Cheryshev, who was suspended from the previous season. Cádiz appeals. The RFEF confirms Madrid is disqualified.

Alessandro's Reaction:
Lying in bed, scrolling through his phone, he sees the official announcement. He sighs, shakes his head, and without hesitation, tweets:

A_Inzaghi9: "And there goes our European Treble."

The tweet goes viral instantly. Fans are in shambles. The Madrid board is in panic mode. But Alessandro? He simply shrugs, puts his phone down, and goes back to watching Goal 2: Living the Dream.

LaLiga Matchweek 15: Villarreal vs Real Madrid (December 13, 2015)

With the Copa del Rey disaster behind them, Real Madrid looks to bounce back.

21' - Left-Footed Assist
Alessandro takes on three Villarreal defenders near the touchline, beating one with a roulette, another with a fake shot, then slipping a perfect left-footed through ball to Isco, who finishes with ease.

45' - Alessandro Scores
A misplaced Villarreal pass. Alessandro intercepts, takes two touches, and curls a right-footed finesse shot from 25 yards. The ball kisses the post and goes in.

Final score: Villarreal 1-2 Real Madrid.

LaLiga Matchweek 16: Real Madrid vs Rayo Vallecano (December 20, 2015)

The legendary 10-2 game. An absolute demolition.

12' - Right-Footed Assist
Alessandro, operating in tight spaces, cuts inside and plays a reverse pass with his right foot to Cristiano, who smashes it in.

24' - Left-Footed Assist
He dribbles into the box, surrounded by defenders. Instead of forcing a shot, he delicately chips the ball to Karim Benzema (who, in this alternate timeline, is replaced by another forward), who volleys it into the net.

50' - Alessandro Scores
A long pass from Modrić finds Alessandro near the penalty spot. With one touch, he controls, and with his weaker right foot, buries a half-volley into the top corner.

Final score: Real Madrid 10-2 Rayo Vallecano.

LaLiga Matchweek 17: Real Madrid vs Real Sociedad (December 30, 2015)

The last match of the year. A cold night at the Bernabéu.

17' - Left-Footed Assist
Alessandro receives a ball at the edge of the box, dances past a defender with a La Croqueta, and squares a pass with his left foot for James Rodríguez to tap in.

58' - Alessandro Scores
A cutback from Marcelo finds Alessandro in the box. He fakes a shot, sending the defender sliding the wrong way, then calmly curls it in with his right foot.

Final score: Real Madrid 3-1 Real Sociedad.

December Summary & Player of the Month Award

With 5 goals and 9 assists in December, Alessandro wins LaLiga Player of the Month for the second time this season.

As the month ends, Alessandro looks at his trophy and smirks. "This is only the beginning."

A Christmas Reunion

December 24, 2015 – Somewhere Between Madrid & Seville

The drive was long but peaceful. The Spanish countryside, blanketed under the soft glow of the setting sun, stretched endlessly beyond the car windows. Alessandro Inzaghi adjusted his sunglasses, feeling the crisp December breeze as he sped along the highway.

He had been looking forward to this all month—Christmas with his father.

Filippo had suggested they meet halfway between Madrid and Seville at an exclusive five-star resort, nestled in the rolling Andalusian hills. It was the perfect escape—no cameras, no media, no distractions. Just father and son.

Arrival at the Lavish Hotel

Alessandro pulled up to the grand entrance of the resort, where warm golden lights twinkled like stars, draped across the white marble façade. A massive Christmas tree stood proudly in the lobby, decorated with shimmering ornaments, silver ribbons, and an angel at the top.

As he stepped inside, he spotted Filippo at the reception desk, dressed in a sleek black coat and scarf. The former striker turned coach looked up and smiled.

"Ale!"

Alessandro grinned, walking over and embracing his father tightly. It had only been a few months since they last saw each other in person, but it felt like forever.

"Merry Christmas, Papà."

"Merry Christmas, figlio mio."

A Christmas Eve Dinner to Remember

The two made their way to the hotel's private dining suite, where a personal chef prepared an authentic Italian Christmas feast.

Antipasti: Thinly sliced prosciutto, burrata, and marinated olives.

Primo: A warm bowl of Tortellini in Brodo, just like Filippo's mother used to make back in Piacenza.

Secondo: A luxurious serving of Baccalà alla Vicentina, a Christmas tradition in Italy.

Dolci: A rich Panettone with mascarpone cream, alongside a glass of red wine.

The warm ambiance, with the fireplace crackling in the background, made it feel like home.

Filippo, sipping his wine, looked at Alessandro with pride.

"So… another Player of the Month award, huh?" he smirked.

Alessandro chuckled. "Not bad, right? December was a great month."

"A great month?" Filippo shook his head. "Ale, you're becoming a legend already. And it's only your first season at Madrid."

Alessandro took a bite of his Panettone and shrugged. "Still a long way to go, Papà. But you know me—I just want to play, have fun, and win."

Filippo nodded. "That's what I love about you. The game hasn't changed you. You're still that kid from Milanello, dreaming with a ball at his feet."

They laughed, reminiscing about the past, about Filippo's playing days, and even the old times when Alessandro would sit in the stands, watching his father score goals for Milan.

Christmas Morning – A Gift Exchange

The next morning, December 25, Alessandro woke up to the soft chime of church bells from a nearby town.

A knock on the door.

Filippo entered with a cup of espresso. "Merry Christmas, Ale."

Alessandro sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Merry Christmas, Papà."

They exchanged gifts.

Filippo handed Alessandro a custom-made Rolex watch, engraved with the words:

"Keep dreaming, but never stop chasing."

Alessandro was speechless.

"Papà… this is beautiful."

Filippo smiled. "For all your hard work. But also, because I know you don't care about material things. This isn't just a watch, Ale. It's a reminder… time moves fast. Enjoy every second of your career."

Alessandro took a deep breath and nodded.

"Grazie, Papà."

He then reached into his bag and pulled out his gift for Filippo—a framed, signed photo of their celebration after winning the Scudetto together at Milan in 2015.

Filippo's eyes softened as he held it.

"Ale… this means everything to me."

The two embraced once more, father and son, sharing a rare moment of stillness in their fast-paced lives.

For Alessandro, this Christmas was perfect—not because of the luxury, not because of the gifts—but because he got to spend it with the one person who had always believed in him.

"Merry Christmas, Papà."

"Merry Christmas, figlio mio."

December 31, 2015 – Madrid

The streets of Madrid were alive with the electric buzz of New Year's Eve preparations. Festive lights glowed above the bustling avenues, and people wrapped in warm coats carried bags of last-minute party supplies.

Alessandro Inzaghi, however, had something else on his mind.

Seated in the back of a black luxury SUV, he glanced at his phone, scrolling past unread messages from teammates and acquaintances inviting him to grand parties across Spain. Cristiano had invited him to a VIP New Year's bash, but Alessandro already knew where he truly wanted to be—with Isabella and her father.

As the car pulled up outside the makeup artist's studio, Alessandro stepped out, adjusting his hoodie to avoid drawing attention.

Inside the Studio

The scent of foundation and hairspray filled the air as Alessandro pushed open the door. The makeup artist, a lively Spaniard with a keen eye for fashion, was in the middle of a final touch-up session with a local TV host when he spotted him.

"Ale! Felíz Año Nuevo in advance, hermano!" the makeup artist grinned, gesturing for him to take a seat.

"Felíz Año Nuevo," Alessandro chuckled. "I need your help."

The makeup artist raised an eyebrow, finishing his client's foundation before giving Alessandro his full attention.

"What's the occasion? You finally trying to get serious with the church girl?" he teased.

Alessandro sighed with a smirk. "I want to spend New Year's Eve with Isabella and her father. But I don't know how to go about it. I don't want to seem too eager, but I also don't want to miss the chance."

The makeup artist leaned against the counter, rubbing his chin.

"So, you've got a choice. Either you play it smooth—text her, casually ask about her plans, and let her invite you… or you be direct and tell her you want to see her tonight."

Alessandro nodded, considering his options.

"What do you think?"

The makeup artist smirked. "Ale, you're a superstar footballer, but you overthink too much. Just call her. Girls like a man who knows what he wants."

Alessandro exhaled, pulling out his phone. His fingers hovered over Isabella's contact for a moment before he tapped the call button.

The phone rang once.

Twice.

Then—

"Hello?" Isabella's soft voice greeted him.

Alessandro smiled.

"Hey, Isabella. Got a moment?"

New Year's Eve Revelation

The warmth in Isabella's voice made Alessandro's heart race slightly as he adjusted his posture in the makeup artist's chair.

"Hey, Isabella. Got a moment?"

"Of course, Alex. What's up?"

He hesitated for a second before exhaling deeply. "I… I want to see you in person tonight. There's something I need to tell you."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the call, then Isabella's voice returned, calm and knowing.

"You want to tell me that you're actually Alessandro Inzaghi, right?"

Alessandro's eyes widened in shock, and the makeup artist, watching from across the room, raised a curious eyebrow at his reaction.

"Wait—" Alessandro stammered, standing up instinctively. "You knew?"

Isabella let out a soft laugh. "Of course, I knew."

Alessandro ran a hand through his hair, pacing slightly. "Since when?"

"The first time we met, when you called yourself 'Alex' in the church," she admitted. "At first, I thought it was just a coincidence. But after seeing your mannerisms, hearing your voice, and… well, let's just say you're not as unrecognizable as you think."

Alessandro slumped back into the chair, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. The makeup artist crossed his arms, amused by what he was overhearing.

"Then why didn't you say anything?" Alessandro asked, genuinely curious.

"Because I wanted to see when you'd trust me enough to tell me the truth yourself." Isabella's voice was gentle, without a trace of mockery or judgment.

For the first time in a long time, Alessandro felt… seen. Not as a football star. Not as a tabloid headline. But as himself.

"So… do you still want to see me tonight?" he asked, a hesitant but hopeful smile forming on his lips.

"Of course, Ale," Isabella replied warmly. "Come to the church before midnight. We'll ring in the new year together."

Alessandro grinned. "I'll be there."

As he hung up, the makeup artist clapped his hands together. "Well, well, well, looks like you didn't even need the disguise after all."

Alessandro chuckled, shaking his head. "Man… this night just got even more interesting."

New Year's Eve at the Church

As Alessandro stepped through the doors of the small church, the warm glow of candlelight illuminated the humble space. The air was calm, peaceful, carrying the faint scent of incense. Despite everything, despite knowing he had been found out long ago, he still felt a nervous energy in his chest.

Before he could even gather his thoughts, he heard a familiar voice greet him.

"Ah, Alex! You made it!"

Alessandro groaned dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose as the priest chuckled.

"Not you too, Padre," he muttered.

The priest's laughter grew heartier as he clapped Alessandro on the back. "Oh, my son, you thought you could fool a priest? God sees all… and so do fathers who have daughters that are too clever for their own good."

Alessandro exhaled and shook his head. "You have no idea how much money I wasted on that makeup artist, Padre. I was out here thinking I was a modern-day Phantom of the Opera."

The priest grinned. "And yet, your 'disguise' barely lasted past your first conversation with Isabella."

Before Alessandro could respond, soft footsteps echoed in the corridor. He turned just in time to see Isabella emerging from the side, a warm smile on her face.

"Hey, Ale."

Alessandro smiled back, his previous frustration melting away. "Hey."

The priest took a step back, giving them space. "I'll leave you two to it. But just so you know, Alex, I charge for confessions on New Year's Eve. All those sins of deception, you know?"

Alessandro rolled his eyes playfully. "Great. First my wallet suffers from the disguise, and now I have to pay the church. Truly, a blessed New Year."

Isabella giggled as the priest left them alone. She tilted her head, studying him with amusement. "You really thought you were fooling me?"

Alessandro sighed, placing a hand on his hip. "In my defense, I was very committed to the bit."

She shook her head, smiling. "Well, you don't have to pretend anymore. Just be yourself, Ale."

For the first time in a long while, that sounded like the easiest thing in the world.

New Year's Eve Conversations

With the warm glow of the church's candles flickering softly around them, Alessandro and Isabella found a quiet bench to sit on. The air was calm, the soft hum of distant prayers adding to the serenity of the moment.

"So," Isabella started, her eyes shining with curiosity, "you went through all that effort to disguise yourself just to meet people without them knowing you're... well, you."

Alessandro chuckled, leaning back against the wooden bench. "Yeah, sounds pretty stupid when you say it out loud."

She shook her head. "Not stupid. Just... a little dramatic."

He smirked. "Hey, I'm a footballer. We specialize in theatrics."

That earned a laugh from her. It was soft, genuine—something Alessandro was starting to really enjoy.

"But why a church?" she asked.

Alessandro sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Because everywhere else, people already have an idea of who I am before they even meet me. Out there, I'm Alessandro Inzaghi—the football star, the celebrity, the guy with the big contracts and magazine covers." He exhaled, his gaze lowering. "I just wanted to be Alex for once. Meet someone who doesn't see me as a walking highlight reel or a bank account."

Isabella listened carefully, nodding. "I understand."

"You do?" Alessandro raised an eyebrow.

"Of course," she smiled. "I grew up in a priest's home. People assume things about me all the time—like I must be some perfect saint or that my life is nothing but prayers and rules. But I'm just a person, trying to figure things out like everyone else."

Alessandro looked at her with newfound admiration. "That's... actually really refreshing to hear."

She playfully nudged his arm. "So, aside from football and sneaky church disguises, what else do you do?"

He chuckled. "Not much, honestly. Football takes up most of my life. But I like to cook. I make a killer pasta."

"Oh? Bold claim."

"I stand by it," he said proudly.

"Okay, next time, you have to prove it."

"Deal." Alessandro grinned.

They continued talking, diving into topics from childhood memories to favorite books, even sharing funny stories about their families. Alessandro learned that Isabella loved painting, enjoyed classic films, and had a deep fascination with history. She, in turn, discovered that Alessandro could name every World Cup final in order since 1950 and that he secretly loved animated movies.

As the night went on, their conversation felt effortless, natural—as if they had known each other for years. For the first time in a long while, Alessandro felt a sense of normalcy, something he had been craving.

When the bells of the church chimed, signaling the arrival of the new year, Isabella smiled at him. "Happy New Year, Ale."

Alessandro met her gaze, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time.

"Happy New Year, Isabella."

Morning Interrogation with Cristiano

The sound of a car door shutting outside pulled Alessandro from his peaceful morning. Still groggy from the late-night conversation with Isabella, he lazily stretched before heading downstairs. Just as he reached the living room, the doorbell rang.

"Coming, coming," he muttered, rubbing his eyes as he opened the door.

Standing there, arms crossed, dressed in his usual stylish yet casual attire, was Cristiano Ronaldo. With his trademark smirk, he scanned Alessandro up and down.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Cristiano said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

"Good morning to you too," Alessandro yawned, closing the door behind him. "What brings you here so early?"

Cristiano flopped onto the couch, resting his arm on the backrest. "Oh, just wanted to check on my little brother. See how he spent his New Year's Eve." His eyes twinkled with mischief. "So? Who were you with?"

Alessandro hesitated for a second before casually shrugging. "Just had a quiet night."

Cristiano raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "A quiet night, huh? Alone?"

"More or less," Alessandro said, pouring himself some water.

Cristiano scoffed. "Liar."

"What?" Alessandro turned to him with a smirk.

"I know that look. You're hiding something."

Alessandro rolled his eyes. "You're overthinking it, Cris."

Cristiano leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Let me guess… not Jordana?"

Alessandro sighed, knowing it was pointless to lie. "No, not Jordana."

Cristiano grinned. "So, it's someone else! Come on, tell me."

Alessandro rubbed the back of his neck. "It's… complicated."

Cristiano narrowed his eyes, intrigued. "You? Complicated? That's new. Who is she?"

Alessandro hesitated for a moment, then mumbled, "Isabella."

Cristiano's eyes widened. "Wait, the church girl? The one who saw through your disguise?"

Alessandro groaned, "Yes, that one."

Cristiano laughed, shaking his head. "You, my friend, are something else. From disguises to confessions in a church to spending New Year's Eve with a priest's daughter? That's a better storyline than a telenovela."

Alessandro sat down with a sigh. "I don't know, man. She's different. With her, I feel like… I don't have to be Alessandro Inzaghi. Just Alex."

Cristiano nodded, suddenly serious. "That's rare. So, what now?"

Alessandro exhaled. "I don't know. I guess… I take things slow. I like her, but I also don't want to mess things up."

Cristiano smirked. "Smart move. Just don't let her slip away while you're thinking too much."

Alessandro chuckled. "Noted."

Cristiano stood up, patting Alessandro's shoulder. "Alright, enough romance talk. Get dressed—we have training."

As Cristiano walked toward the door, he turned back with a mischievous grin. "Oh, and next time, invite me to these church gatherings of yours. Maybe I'll find a nice, humble girl too."

Alessandro rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."

Laughing, Cristiano walked out, leaving Alessandro shaking his head—but also smiling.

[xXx]

The 2015 Ballon d'Or Ceremony: Alessandro & Cristiano's Journey

The Preparation

The morning of the ceremony felt different. Alessandro Inzaghi sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the finely tailored suit hanging on the wardrobe. His second Ballon d'Or ceremony as a Real Madrid player—it still felt surreal. This time, he wasn't just an exciting prospect or a young starlet. He was one of the best footballers in the world.

He picked up his phone and dialed Cristiano Ronaldo.

"Cris, ready for the big night?" Alessandro asked, adjusting his voice, trying to sound relaxed.

"More than ready, kid. This isn't my first rodeo," Ronaldo chuckled. "What about you? Nervous?"

Alessandro smirked. "Nah, I'm used to this now."

"Good," Cristiano said. "Meet me at the airport in an hour. We fly to Zurich in style."

After a quick breakfast and a final check of his suit, Alessandro was picked up by the club's driver and taken to Madrid Barajas Airport, where Cristiano was already waiting for him—clad in a sharp, fitted black suit and sunglasses.

"Finally," Ronaldo teased as Alessandro walked up to him. "I thought you got lost."

"Had to make sure I looked as good as you, old man," Alessandro fired back.

Ronaldo laughed. "Kid, no one looks as good as me."

They boarded a private jet bound for Zurich, chatting about the upcoming event, their performances throughout the year, and, of course, the competition.

"Be honest, Cris," Alessandro said as he fastened his seatbelt. "Do you think you'll win?"

Cristiano took a deep breath. "I had a great year, but Messi won the treble with Barcelona. You know how these things go."

Alessandro nodded. He knew that reality all too well.

Arrival in Zurich & Golden Boy Triumph

Upon landing in Zurich, a fleet of black cars was waiting for them. Cameras flashed as they stepped out, fans cheering behind barricades. Alessandro and Cristiano waved before being escorted to their hotel.

As the evening approached, the football world gathered at the Kongresshaus in Zurich. Alessandro sat beside Cristiano, dressed impeccably in a navy suit, his long hair slicked back.

Before the main event, the Golden Boy Award was presented—an honor given to the best U-21 player in the world. Alessandro, having already won it in 2014, was the clear favorite again.

When the presenter called his name, a wave of applause erupted. Alessandro walked up to the stage, shaking hands with the officials before holding up the trophy with a bright smile.

"For the second year in a row, the Golden Boy Award goes to Alessandro Inzaghi, a player who continues to amaze the world with his magic on the pitch!" the host declared.

Alessandro took the mic.

"I want to thank my family, my teammates, and everyone who has supported me," he said. "Football is my passion, and I hope to continue bringing joy to the fans. Thank you!"

Cristiano gave him a fist bump when he returned to his seat. "Back-to-back, huh? Not bad."

"I learned from the best," Alessandro replied with a smirk.

The Ballon d'Or Rankings

Then came the moment everyone had been waiting for—the Ballon d'Or Award.

"And now, we reveal the top three players in world football for 2015," the presenter announced.

Tension filled the air. The screens behind the stage began displaying the names.

3rd Place – Alessandro Inzaghi (Real Madrid & Italy)

Applause rang out as Alessandro's name was called. He stood up, shaking hands with Cristiano and the other nominees before heading to the stage.

"At just 18 years old, Alessandro Inzaghi continues to astonish the football world. His dazzling performances for Real Madrid and his electrifying presence in LaLiga have made him one of the brightest stars of the new generation."

As he received his plaque, he gave a humble smile and nodded in appreciation.

"Wow… third in the world," he said into the microphone. "It's an honor just to be in this conversation. I'll keep working hard, and hopefully, I can stand here again in the future. Thank you!"

Returning to his seat, Cristiano patted him on the back. "That's huge, kid. Top three at 18? Unreal."

"Still behind you, though," Alessandro teased.

"For now," Cristiano replied with a wink.

Then, it was time for the final announcement.

2nd Place – Cristiano Ronaldo (Real Madrid & Portugal)

Cristiano stood up, nodding at Alessandro before heading to the stage. His acceptance speech was graceful, acknowledging Messi's incredible year and promising to fight for the award again next year.

Then, the inevitable happened.

1st Place – Lionel Messi (FC Barcelona & Argentina)

The room erupted in applause as Messi took to the stage, lifting his fifth Ballon d'Or. His treble-winning season with Barcelona had made him the undeniable favorite.

Alessandro clapped, watching as Messi made his speech. He respected the Argentine, even though they were fierce rivals.

As Messi lifted the golden trophy, Alessandro leaned toward Cristiano.

"Next year, we bring it back to Madrid," Alessandro whispered.

Cristiano smirked. "That's the spirit."

The ceremony wrapped up with more pictures, interviews, and celebrations. Alessandro knew he had come far, but deep inside, his competitive fire was burning brighter than ever.

He wanted more. And he wasn't going to stop until he reached the very top.

Alessandro Inzaghi's Electrifying January Performances for Real Madrid (2016)

After the Ballon d'Or ceremony, Alessandro returned to Madrid with renewed determination. The recognition of being the third-best player in the world at just 18 was an incredible achievement, but he wasn't satisfied. He wanted more. He wanted to dominate.

January brought crucial fixtures for Real Madrid, and Alessandro Inzaghi was ready to entertain, assist, and score like never before.

LaLiga Matchweek 19 – Real Madrid vs. Deportivo La Coruña (January 9, 2016)

Santiago Bernabéu Score: Real Madrid 5-0 Deportivo

The Bernabéu was buzzing for the first league match of the new year, and Alessandro wasted no time putting on a show.

From the first whistle, he played with flair reminiscent of Ronaldinho. In the 12th minute, Alessandro received the ball near the center circle, flicked it over an onrushing defender with a rainbow flick, and darted forward. The crowd gasped as he juggled the ball twice before laying off a perfect through pass to Cristiano Ronaldo, who slotted it home.

"That's pure magic from Inzaghi! He's playing with the ball like it's glued to his feet!" the commentator raved.

In the 33rd minute, Alessandro turned provider again, this time with a no-look, outside-foot cross into the box. James Rodríguez leaped and volleyed it in.

But Alessandro wasn't done yet.

In the 72nd minute, he finally got his goal. Cutting inside from the right wing, he performed two stepovers, then a quick elastico, completely fooling the defender before curling the ball into the top corner with his weaker left foot.

"INZAGHI! GOLAZOOOO! And he does it with his left foot! This kid is unstoppable!"

A standing ovation greeted him as he walked off in the 80th minute, having contributed one goal and two assists.

LaLiga Matchweek 20 – Real Madrid vs. Sporting Gijón (January 17, 2016)

El Molinón Score: Real Madrid 4-1 Sporting Gijón

Alessandro continued his hot form in Madrid's first away match of the year.

The home fans were left speechless in the 10th minute when Alessandro pulled off a sombrero flick over one defender, a roulette past another, and a fake shot to send the keeper diving the wrong way before tapping into an open net.

"Alessandro Inzaghi is playing like he's on the streets of Brazil, not in LaLiga!"

In the 29th minute, he added an assist with a first-time backheel pass inside the box, setting up Gareth Bale for a powerful finish.

Madrid cruised to victory, with Alessandro finishing with one goal and one assist.

LaLiga Matchweek 21 – Real Madrid vs. Real Betis (January 24, 2016)

Benito Villamarín Score: Real Madrid 3-0 Real Betis

In a rain-soaked match, Alessandro's footwork was sharper than ever. The wet pitch only made his dribbles more mesmerizing as he slipped and glided past defenders like a phantom.

In the 18th minute, he danced past three defenders, leaving them stumbling before chipping a delicate pass to Luka Modrić, who volleyed it home.

Then in the 62nd minute, he produced his best moment of the match—a solo goal straight out of a FIFA video game.

Taking the ball from his own half, he surged forward, nutmegged one defender, performed a La Croqueta past another, then sent the keeper the wrong way with a fake shot before casually slotting the ball in.

Sergio Ramos ran up to him, shaking his head.
"Are you even human, kid?" he laughed.

Final stats: Two goals, one assist.

LaLiga Matchweek 22 – Real Madrid vs. Espanyol (January 31, 2016)

Santiago Bernabéu Score: Real Madrid 6-0 Espanyol

Madrid ended January with a goal fest, and Alessandro was at the heart of it.

The 15th minute saw him pick up the ball outside the box and unleash a knuckleball strike that dipped and swerved past the helpless keeper.

By the 40th minute, he had two assists, one with a disguised reverse pass and another with a perfectly timed lob over the defense for Ronaldo.

In the 70th minute, he rounded off the night with his second goal, calmly converting after a one-two flick combo with Karim Benzema.

"Another world-class performance from Alessandro Inzaghi! This young man is taking LaLiga by storm!"

January 2016 Wrap-Up

4 matches
6 goals
6 assists
Countless moments of magic

With such dazzling performances, it was no surprise when LaLiga officially named Alessandro Inzaghi as the Player of the Month for January.

Holding the trophy at Valdebebas, Alessandro smirked.

"This is just the beginning."

And everyone knew it.

A Valentine's Day Special: Alessandro's Big Decision

February 14, 2016 – Cristiano Ronaldo's House, Madrid

The morning sun filtered through the luxurious windows of Cristiano Ronaldo's home, illuminating the pristine white floors and designer furniture. Alessandro Inzaghi sat comfortably on the couch, sipping a protein shake while nervously tapping his foot. Across from him, Cristiano leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, an amused smirk plastered across his face.

"So," Cristiano started, raising an eyebrow, "you finally grew a pair?"

Alessandro chuckled, shaking his head. "C'mon, man. It's not like that." He took a deep breath before confessing, "I think I'm ready to ask Isabella to be my girlfriend."

Cristiano nearly spat out his coffee. "Now you're ready? Brother, I swear, you move slower than a damn sloth!" He let out a loud laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "You've been seeing this girl for over a month! What took you so long?"

Alessandro groaned, rubbing his temples. "Look, I wanted to take my time. Make sure she's really into me and not just, you know... into Alessandro Inzaghi, the football star."

Cristiano rolled his eyes. "She already knew who you were before you even told her, and guess what? She still likes you! What more do you need? A signed contract from FIFA?"

Alessandro sighed, staring at his phone. He had already drafted a text asking Isabella if she was free tonight. He just hadn't sent it yet.

Cristiano smirked, nudging him. "What's stopping you now? Nervous?"

"Not nervous, just..." Alessandro hesitated, then admitted, "I don't want to mess this up."

Cristiano sighed, shaking his head. "Man, I've seen you destroy defenders with the most disrespectful skills, but here you are overthinking like a rookie before a debut. Just send the damn message!"

Alessandro groaned but finally tapped send. Within moments, his phone buzzed with a reply.

Isabella: Of course, I'd love to! ️

Cristiano glanced over and saw the blush creeping up Alessandro's face. He burst out laughing again. "Oh man, you are so gone. Just don't propose to her before the season ends!"

Alessandro laughed, shaking his head. "Shut up, man."

But deep down, he knew Cristiano was right. Isabella was special. And tonight, he was finally going to take the next step.

Alessandro leaned back on the couch, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he turned to Cristiano. "Alright, enough about me," he said, crossing his arms. "What about you? What's the great Cristiano Ronaldo doing for Valentine's Day?"

Cristiano, who had been taking a sip of his coffee, nearly choked. He shot Alessandro a glare before setting his cup down with a sigh. "I knew you were going to ask that."

Alessandro chuckled. "Of course! It's only fair. You've been roasting me this whole time." He paused for a second before adding, "I mean… considering you just came out of a five-year relationship, this must be—"

"Don't say it," Cristiano interrupted, pointing at him. "I swear, if you say 'tough,' I'll make you run sprints tomorrow in training."

Alessandro raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, hey, I wasn't gonna say 'tough'—"

Cristiano gave him a knowing look.

"Fine, I was," Alessandro admitted, grinning. "But, seriously, though… how are you holding up?"

Cristiano sighed, leaning back. "It is what it is, man. Five years is a long time, yeah, but things change. I won't lie, it felt weird at first, waking up and realizing I didn't have to check my phone every morning for a 'good morning' text or hear about some photoshoot she was flying off to."

Alessandro nodded, listening intently.

"But, you know me," Cristiano continued, flashing a confident smirk, though there was something in his eyes that suggested a bit of truth beneath the bravado. "I'm focusing on football. Training. Spending more time with Junior." He shrugged. "Tonight? Probably just watching some Champions League highlights, maybe hitting the gym."

Alessandro shook his head with a chuckle. "Man, you're really going to spend Valentine's Day in the gym?"

Cristiano grinned. "Hey, the weights don't break up with you."

Alessandro burst out laughing. "That has to be the most Cristiano thing I've ever heard."

Cristiano laughed as well before sighing. "Nah, but for real… maybe I'll just chill tonight. Order some food, watch a movie with Junior." He looked at Alessandro with a smirk. "Meanwhile, you better not mess things up with Isabella."

Alessandro rolled his eyes but smiled. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

Cristiano nodded approvingly before standing up. "Good. Now, let's go train. Because if you're going on a date tonight, I know you're gonna want to eat good food."

Alessandro laughed. "You know me too well."

Alessandro smiled at that, feeling a little more confident in his decision. Then, as the conversation lightened, he glanced at Cristiano and suddenly remembered something.

"What about you?" Alessandro asked. "What are you doing for Valentine's Day?"

Cristiano sighed, leaning back against the couch. "Nothing special. Probably just hanging out at home."

Alessandro gave him a pointed look. "You mean, you're going to sit here and watch Champions League highlights alone on Valentine's Day?"

Cristiano smirked. "And what's wrong with that?"

Alessandro groaned. "Come on, man. You're Cristiano Ronaldo! You could have any girl you want, and you're choosing to stay home like an old man?"

Cristiano laughed. "I just got out of a long relationship, Ale. I'm not exactly in a rush to jump into something new."

Alessandro crossed his arms, thinking for a moment before his face lit up with an idea. "Alright, hear me out. What if I ask Isabella if she has a sister, a friend… hell, even a cousin? You never know, she might have someone perfect for you."

Cristiano raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, so now you're a relationship expert, huh?"

Alessandro shrugged with a grin. "I mean, I'm getting there. And hey, maybe it's time you get back in the saddle."

Cristiano scoffed, shaking his head. "I don't need to get back in the saddle. I'm fine."

"Yeah, yeah. Mr. 'I'm just going to watch football alone on Valentine's Day' sounds real fine."

Cristiano rolled his eyes, but Alessandro could tell he was holding back a laugh.

"Look," Alessandro continued, "if you want, I can ask Isabella if she has a sister, a friend… maybe even a cousin."

Cristiano let out a short laugh and shook his head. "Oh, so that's your master plan? Matchmaking me through your girl?"

"Why not?" Alessandro smirked. "I mean, if she likes me, clearly she has good taste."

Cristiano snorted. "Debatable."

Alessandro gasped in mock offense. "Wow. Wow. That hurt, Cris."

Cristiano chuckled, finally giving in. "Alright, fine. If Isabella has a friend who's single and interested, I'll consider it." He pointed a warning finger at Alessandro. "But if she's crazy, I'm blaming you."

Alessandro grinned. "Deal. I'll ask tonight."

Cristiano shook his head with a smirk. "You really don't give up, do you?"

"Nope," Alessandro said, standing up. "And one day, you'll thank me for this."

Cristiano chuckled. "We'll see about that."

Alessandro stood in his kitchen, carefully arranging ingredients on the countertop. Tonight was special—he had invited Isabella over for dinner, and he wanted to make it memorable. Unsure of what to cook, he picked up his phone and called his father.

"Dad, I want to make something meaningful tonight. Do you have any suggestions?" Alessandro asked.

Filippo's voice softened on the other end. "Son, there's a dish your mother used to make when we first started dating. She said it was her way of showing love through food."

Alessandro listened closely as his father recounted the recipe, each step a tribute to the woman he never had the chance to know. With renewed determination, he gathered the ingredients and began to cook, following the instructions his father had given him. The kitchen filled with the aroma of simmering tomatoes, fresh basil, and garlic, a scent that felt almost nostalgic despite never having experienced it before.

When Isabella arrived, the table was set with candles casting a warm glow. Alessandro watched as she took her first bite, her eyes lighting up with delight.

"This is amazing, Ale! Did you make this yourself?" she asked.

He smiled, feeling a deep connection not just to her but to his mother's memory. "It's a family recipe," he said. "Something special passed down to me."

As they shared the meal, laughter and conversation filled the room, and for a moment, Alessandro felt an indescribable warmth—one that came from love, tradition, and the comfort of home.

[xXx]

Alessandro Inzaghi's February Brilliance: A Month of Magic

February was a crucial month for Real Madrid as they continued their charge for LaLiga and the Champions League. Alessandro Inzaghi, fresh off his Golden Boy award and a third-place finish in the Ballon d'Or rankings, was playing with a point to prove. Each game became a stage for him to showcase his dazzling skills, breathtaking assists, and clinical finishing.

February 2016 – Alessandro Inzaghi's Magic on Display

LaLiga Matchweek 23 – Granada vs. Real Madrid (February 7, 2016)

Final Score: Granada 1-3 Real Madrid

Alessandro's Impact: 1 goal, 2 assists

Playing at the Estadio Nuevo Los Cármenes, Alessandro was on fire from the start. In the 12th minute, he received a lofted pass from Luka Modrić, controlled it with his right thigh, then used a no-look flick with his left foot to send James Rodríguez through on goal. The Colombian buried it in the bottom corner.

Before halftime, Alessandro added another assist. Receiving the ball near the touchline, he used a flip-flap to beat his marker, then chipped a delicate cross with his weaker left foot to Cristiano Ronaldo, who volleyed it home in style.

Granada tried to mount a comeback with a goal in the second half, but in the 80th minute, Alessandro sealed the win with a moment of brilliance. Dribbling past two defenders with a samba-like touch, he performed a Sombrero flick over the last defender before smashing a half-volley into the roof of the net.

Cristiano was left in disbelief. "That was pure Joga Bonito!" he laughed during the celebrations.

UEFA Champions League Round of 16 (First Leg) – Roma vs. Real Madrid (February 17, 2016)

Final Score: Roma 0-2 Real Madrid

Alessandro's Impact: 1 goal, 1 assist

The tension was high at the Stadio Olimpico, with Roma determined to take control in front of their home fans. But Alessandro, playing his first UCL knockout stage match with Real Madrid, was unfazed.

In the 28th minute, he delivered a magical through ball with his left foot—curving it between two defenders—allowing Gareth Bale to slot the ball past the keeper for the opening goal.

Roma pressed forward, but Alessandro toyed with their defense, performing elastico after elastico, drawing fouls and frustrating the Italians. Then, in the 72nd minute, he capped off his performance with a stunning goal. Picking up the ball at the edge of the box, he sent a defender the wrong way with a body feint, then curled a shot into the far corner, kissing the post before going in.

The Madrid bench erupted as Zidane stood with a proud smile.

LaLiga Matchweek 25 – Málaga vs. Real Madrid (February 21, 2016)

Final Score: Málaga 1-3 Real Madrid

Alessandro's Impact: 2 assists

Málaga defended deep, but Alessandro unlocked them with vision and flair. His first assist came in the 9th minute, where he nutmegged a defender before sending a low cross for Isco to tap in.

Later in the 57th minute, Alessandro showcased his ambidexterity. Under pressure, he whipped in an outside-of-the-foot cross from his left foot, finding Ronaldo at the back post, who powered a header past the keeper.

Málaga pulled one back, but Real Madrid remained in control, with Alessandro dancing past opponents and linking up beautifully with Modrić and Kroos.

LaLiga Matchweek 26 – Real Madrid vs. Atlético Madrid (February 27, 2016)

Final Score: Real Madrid 3-1 Atlético Madrid

Alessandro's Impact: 1 goal, 1 assist

It was time for another fiery Madrid Derby. Atlético's defense was ruthless, with Diego Godín and José Giménez going in hard on Alessandro every time he touched the ball. But Alessandro refused to back down.

In the 17th minute, he received a pass from Marcelo, pulled off a roulette turn past Gabi, then played a delicate chip over the defense for Benzema (stepping in as a false nine) to smash home.

Atleti equalized, but Alessandro responded in the 65th minute with a genius solo effort. After dispossessing Koke in midfield, he drove at the defense, executing step-overs before chopping inside to send Godín sliding the wrong way. He then blasted a weaker-foot shot into the top corner.

The Bernabéu exploded as Alessandro pointed to his headband, mimicking Ronaldinho's famous celebration.

Cristiano ran over, laughing, and patted his head. "I swear, you're channeling Ronnie again!"

With that performance, Alessandro helped Real Madrid maintain their chase for the LaLiga title while also proving why he was one of the most exciting players in Europe.

End of February – Alessandro Wins LaLiga Player of the Month!

With 2 goals and 6 assists across four matches, Alessandro was named LaLiga Player of the Month for February 2016, further cementing his status as a generational talent.

That evening, after winding down from another brilliant performance, Alessandro sat on his plush leather couch, stretching out his legs as he stared at his phone. A satisfied smile played on his lips as he scrolled through the latest headlines.

"Alessandro Inzaghi wins LaLiga Player of the Month!"
"The Inzaghi Bloodline Continues: Alessandro Channels Ronaldinho in Madrid Derby Win!"

He chuckled before switching over to his contacts. It had been a while since he last spoke to his father, and after everything that had happened recently, he wanted to check in. He tapped on Dad, and after a few rings, Filippo Inzaghi's voice came through.

"Alessandro! Mio ragazzo! How are you?"

Alessandro grinned. "Ciao, Papà. I'm good, really good. But I wanted to ask—how are you? I've been keeping an eye on Sevilla. You guys are flying!"

Filippo let out a pleased hum. "Ah, so you've noticed? It hasn't been easy, but the boys are responding well. We're fighting with Atlético for third place, still strong in the Copa del Rey, and in the Europa League, we just knocked out Feyenoord."

Alessandro whistled. "That's impressive, Papà. When you took the job, people thought it'd be a struggle for you. But you're proving them wrong."

Filippo laughed. "You know how it is, figlio mio. Nobody believes in you until you start winning. But I have a good squad, and the city loves their football. We just need to stay focused."

Alessandro leaned back into the couch. "So, do you think Sevilla can win a trophy this season?"

Filippo's voice was filled with confidence. "We're aiming for one, maybe two. I won't get ahead of myself, but the Copa del Rey and the Europa League are within reach. Third place in LaLiga would be a bonus."

Alessandro smirked. "So you're telling me that after winning a domestic double with Milan, you could add a European trophy this year?"

Filippo chuckled. "I wouldn't mind, eh? But let's see. There's still a long way to go."

Alessandro nodded, feeling proud. His father had been dismissed too easily by Milan, but now he was proving his worth in Spain.

"Keep going, Papà. You've got this."

Filippo's voice softened. "And you, Alessandro. You're shining at Madrid. I see your performances, your goals, your assists… I'm so proud of you. Just remember, the season is long. Stay sharp."

Alessandro smiled. "Always."

As they said their goodbyes, Alessandro felt a renewed sense of motivation. His father was carving out his own path in Spain, and he wanted to do the same. The season was far from over, and there was still so much to achieve.

As the conversation between father and son began to slow, Alessandro felt a nervous excitement bubbling inside him. He had something personal to share—something that had been on his mind for weeks now. He leaned back against the couch, took a deep breath, and decided to go for it.

"Papà, there's something else I wanted to tell you," Alessandro began, his voice a little more careful now.

Filippo, always perceptive, picked up on his son's shift in tone. "Oh? And what is that, mio figlio?"

Alessandro hesitated for a moment before finally saying it. "I'm… dating someone. Her name is Isabella."

There was a pause on the other end. Then, Filippo let out a surprised chuckle. "Oh! Alessandro, my boy, finally! I was beginning to think you were married to football."

Alessandro laughed. "I mean, I still am. But... Isabella is different. She's not like the other women I've met. She's humble, kind, and she doesn't care about my fame or my money. She didn't even know who I was at first."

Filippo hummed in amusement. "That must've been refreshing."

"It was," Alessandro admitted, smiling to himself as he thought about her. "I met her at a small church in Madrid. We started talking, and... I don't know, Papà. It just feels real."

Filippo sighed, but it was the kind of sigh that came from years of experience. "That's good, Alessandro. You know, love isn't easy when you're in our world. It's rare to find someone who sees you, not the footballer. If Isabella is that person, then I'm happy for you."

Alessandro felt warmth in his chest at his father's words. "Thanks, Papà. That means a lot."

Filippo chuckled again. "Now tell me, does she know about your Inzaghi genes yet? Has she seen you lurking offside before scoring?"

Alessandro burst out laughing. "Not yet, but I'm sure she'll find out soon."

They shared another laugh before Filippo added in a more serious tone, "Just take it slow, Alessandro. You've got a big career ahead of you, and relationships need time and patience. But if she makes you happy, then enjoy every moment."

"I will, Papà. I promise."

As they ended the call, Alessandro felt a mix of happiness and relief. He had told his father, and his reaction had been everything he'd hoped for. Now, he was even more sure of his feelings for Isabella.

Showcase the moment to moment in which Alessandro entertains like Ronaldinho, and assists using both of his feet during Real Madrid's matches of March. Real Madrid didn't take part in the Copa del Rey of the 2015-16 season due to them being disqualified, so they play LaLiga and UCL matches only.