Chapter 15 – Letters from Home
Weeks passed. Azul's name became known in Barcelona's youth circles. Scouts whispered. Coaches smiled. Yet amid the growing recognition, a letter arrived one evening — from Rosario.
He recognized his mother's handwriting instantly.
> *Mi querido Azul,*
> *We saw the news about your match. Your father cried. I think he tries to hide it, but I see it in his eyes. He says you play with vision, like you can see tomorrow before it happens. We are proud of you, my son.*
> *But remember who you are. Remember where you started. Never let fame blind you.*
>*—Mamá*
Azul sat with the letter pressed to his chest, the faint smell of home clinging to the paper. He missed the dusty streets, the laughter, the feeling of bare feet on warm pavement.
He folded the letter carefully and placed it in his notebook beside a single sentence he had written months before:
*"This is only the beginning."*
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## **Chapter 16 – A Visit from the Past**##
One crisp Saturday morning, during an inter-academy friendly, the crowd around La Masia was unusually large. Azul didn't notice at first — until, during warm-up, whispers began spreading down the line.
"Messi's here."
The words hit like a spark.
Azul's head shot up. Standing near the coaches' bench, casual in jeans and a Barça jacket, was Lionel Messi himself — visiting his old academy. The players buzzed with disbelief.
Azul's pulse raced. His idol. His reason for chasing this dream.
When the match began, every touch felt magnified. Azul played with focus so sharp it bordered on trance. Each pass, each interception, carried the weight of Messi's unseen gaze.
Midway through the second half, Azul received the ball on the edge of the box. A defender lunged. Azul shifted his balance — once, twice — then slipped a perfect assist through two bodies for Pablo to finish.
The crowd applauded. Even Messi clapped quietly from the sidelines.
After the final whistle, Azul approached him hesitantly. Messi smiled softly, extending a hand.
"You play with your eyes," he said in his quiet voice. "Keep doing that."
Azul could barely find words. "Thank you, sir. You're… why I started."
Messi chuckled. "Then keep going. Maybe one day, I'll be watching you on the field — not from the side."
As Messi walked away, Azul stood rooted to the grass, the words echoing in his mind.
For the first time, the dream didn't feel impossible. It felt *inevitable.*
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### *End of Chapters 15–16*###