The team flight from Riyadh back to Barcelona was less of a flight and more of a flying party.
Music blasted from someone's speaker in the back row—likely Gavi's doing. Laughter echoed through the cabin. Coach Flick didn't even try to quiet them. He sat near the front, smiling to himself, sipping from a bottle of water while reviewing notes on his tablet.
They had done it.
Champions of the Supercopa de España.
Lamine Yamal, headphones hanging around his neck, sat beside Luca and scrolled through social media.
"Bro," Lamine said, showing his phone screen. "Look at this. You're trending worldwide. Number three."
Luca blinked. "Wait, me?"
"Yep. #LucaGol is going viral."
Gavi leaned in from the seat behind them. "Check your Insta, bro. You probably hit a mil already."
Luca opened Instagram. 1.3 million followers.
He covered his mouth. "What the hell..."
The comments were flooding in:
@FCBarcelona: "First Clásico. First trophy. First goal. LUCA!" @FabrizioRomano: "Luca (2008) scores in El Clasico final. One to watch. Barca future looks bright." @LaLiga: "Just 16 and already deciding matches in finals. Take a bow, Luca."
Memes exploded across Twitter/X. One had Luca edited into a painting of a Renaissance angel with the caption: "Barcelona's new savior."
Another had a clip of his volley, slowed dramatically with orchestra music behind it.
Even rival fans grudgingly praised the youngster:
@Madridista101: "I hate Barca but damn... that kid Luca? Different breed."
Pedri tossed a bag of chips at Luca from across the aisle. "No sleeping tonight, TikTok's about to break."
Luca chuckled, dazed. "This feels like a dream."
---
When they landed in Barcelona at El Prat, it was nearly 3 a.m. But hundreds of fans had gathered. Flags. Scarves. Drums. Flashing phones.
"LUCA! LUCA! LUCA!"
Security led the players through the crowd, but Luca paused to sign a few jerseys, take a couple selfies. A young boy held up a poster: "You're my hero, Luca!"
His heart clenched.
By the time they got back to Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper, the sun was peeking over the horizon. Still, no one wanted to sleep.
The team gathered in the players' lounge. Pizza boxes everywhere. Loud music. Someone had brought in champagne.
Lewandowski raised a bottle. "To champions. To the future. And to this kid, Luca. Your first goal? In a Clásico? Respect."
Cheers.
Lamine patted Luca's back. "We're just getting started."
Coach Flick joined them briefly.
"You made the club proud. But remember, one game doesn't define a career. Stay hungry. Stay humble."
He gave Luca a nod before heading out.
Later, Luca sat in the corner with Pedri and Gavi, eating cold pepperoni slices.
"I still hear the goal in my head," Luca murmured.
Pedri grinned. "And you'll hear it forever."
---
The next morning, the papers hit every kiosk and website in Spain:
*SPORT: "Luca, El Niño de Oro!" Mundo Deportivo: "A Star is Born in Riyadh" Marca: "Madrid Falls to the New Generation"
Luca's phone never stopped buzzing.
There were DMs from brands. Requests from media outlets. Messages from other young players around the world.
Even a text from Neymar:
Neymar: "Saw the goal. Unreal. Keep shining, kid."
Luca stared at it, mouth slightly open.
"NEYMAR just texted me," he whispered.
Lamine popped his head into the room. "Welcome to the big leagues, superstar."
---
And as the media storm raged and the world shouted his name, Luca stayed grounded.
He knew this was just the beginning.
And the season... was far from over.