"Come on, hurry up! We've got a plane to catch!"
Pujic's girlfriend leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching him struggle to pack.
The season had just ended, and he was supposed to be heading off on vacation with her.
Ring-ring-ring...
The sudden ring of his phone made him freeze mid-fold.
He glanced at the caller ID—and nearly dropped the phone.
Messi. Lionel Messi.
His idol. His hero.
Hands trembling, heart racing, he thumbed the answer button.
"M-My idol…"
Pujic wasn't nervous—he was ecstatic.
Messi had called him. Voluntarily.
"I need a favor, Pujic," came Messi's soft voice.
"No problem!" Pujic replied instantly, without even waiting to hear what it was.
Five minutes later, he was racing down the stairs.
"Did you even finish packing?" his girlfriend asked, raising a brow.
"I have to step out—shouldn't be long!" he said breathlessly.
"We're heading to the airport right now, and you're just gonna leave?!"
"Reschedule the flight! Messi's outside! I'm going to help Messi!"
Her face transformed from fury to fangirl in an instant.
"Wait, wait—Messi?! Can I come? I need a selfie, an autograph—wait, I have to change—"
Pujic smiled.
Yeah, empathy.
Still, nothing new. In Barcelona, everyone's partner was a Messi fan.
Some even more obsessed than the guys themselves.
"Stay here. I'll be quick!"
He shut the door behind him and bolted.
---
Romeo Teixeira's villa.
Inside, Mino Raiola was in full professional mode, running things like a general.
He'd brought along a full team: personal trainers, private doctors, top-tier nutritionists.
"Romeo! If you want to dominate world football, it starts here. With precision. Discipline. Planning."
"Your training, meals, and medical check-ups—these guys handle it all."
He pointed toward his staff with military pride.
"As for your backyard—I'm turning it into a private pitch. Turf, lights, goals, everything. Go enjoy your break. It'll be ready when you're back."
Daisy, Raiola's assistant, gave him a side-eye.
Isn't this guy supposed to be a world-class agent? Why's he acting like Romeo's personal butler?
Ding dong!
Doorbell.
"Daisy, get that," Raiola barked, unfazed, while flipping through Romeo's new career blueprint.
"Wha—"
A squeal pierced the quiet.
Daisy clutched her face, staring at the door.
"MESSI?! Oh my God—I'm your fan! Sign my—please can you sign my—can I get a photo?!"
Romeo and Raiola turned, stunned.
"Romeo, are you secretly dating Messi?" Raiola asked, narrowing his eyes.
Romeo blinked. "I don't even know the guy…"
"Daisy, act like a professional," Raiola groaned.
Then came a familiar voice from the hallway:
"Romeo!! Guess who I brought!"
Pujic entered, puffed up with pride.
Romeo rolled his eyes. "Bro, I heard you three rooms away."
"Hello, Romeo."
Messi walked in. Calm, composed, and holding out his hand.
"Hi… Leo." Romeo shook it, stunned.
Raiola nodded in approval.
Good. Calm under pressure. That's how a star acts.
Romeo internally? Screaming.
I just shook hands with Messi.
(Raiola, forget I said anything.)
---
"Sorry for just showing up," Messi said sincerely. "I didn't have your number, so I asked Pujic to bring us here. I hope it's okay."
"It's fine," Romeo said quickly, eyeing the two men behind him.
"This is Walter Carloni," Messi explained, "and that's Pablo Aimar."
Romeo greeted them politely.
Soon everyone was sitting—Messi, Carloni, Aimar, Raiola, and Romeo.
Carloni didn't waste time.
"Romeo, I'm here to officially invite you to join the Argentina national team for the Copa América."
Romeo sat forward.
"I've watched your matches. You're exactly the kind of midfielder I want to build our team around. I'm offering you a starting spot, and the keys to the midfield."
Romeo stared at him, blinking.
Wait. Carloni?
Wasn't he just the assistant coach?
Can an assistant promise that?
Raiola chuckled. "So the rumors were true. They made you the new head coach."
Romeo turned to him. "Wait—what?"
"It's official," Carloni confirmed. "Sampaoli's been let go. My appointment will be public soon."
That didn't align with what Romeo remembered. According to his timeline, Carloni only took over after Argentina's World Cup collapse.
Why the shift now?
"Romeo, we believe in you," Messi added. "I want to fight for the Copa and the World Cup with you."
"And we've prepared something," said Aimar, pulling out a hand-sketched tactical plan. "This is the system we've built—around you."
Romeo looked over the diagrams.
No doubt. They'd worked all night to prepare this.
---
Thirty minutes later.
Messi, Carloni, Aimar, and an emotional Pujic had left.
Romeo sat back on the couch, overwhelmed.
"Mr. Raiola… what do you think?" he asked.
"Should I accept?"
Raiola folded his arms, then nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"The Argentine federation's chaotic, sure. And they've underperformed lately. But this—this is your moment."
"You'll have the spotlight. You'll have control. And if Carloni delivers on his word—Romeo, the whole world's going to take notice this summer."
Romeo nodded.
"…I'm thinking about it."
---