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[2021-05-13 | Red Bull Arena, Leipzig, Germany | 20:30 CET] 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

*(FWEEET! FWEEET! FWEEEEEET!)*

"It's over! Bayer Leverkusen are defending DFB champions!" Fuss announced, his voice filled with emotion. "For the first time in their 117-year history, they are Back-to-Back cup winners!"

The away section erupted, flags waving frantically, fans jumping up and down in excitement, songs burst forth into the Leipzig night. On the pitch, Leverkusen players erupted into celebrations, moving wildly to share in the joy of their victory. Water bottles became weapons as water soaked everyone around them, with Bosz becoming the main recipient of the assault.

Moments later, Bosz stood drenched, water dripping from his hair and tracksuit, but he didn't care. He raised both hands in the air, acknowledging his players before turning to shake hands with Nagelsmann, who stood at the edge of the Leipzig technical area, arms crossed, disappointment clear on his face.

"Good match," Nagelsmann said, extending his hand.

"You made us work for it," Bosz replied, shaking it firmly.

On the pitch, Rakim joined his teammates walking slowly toward the away section, clapping his hands above his head. The feeling of winning the cup again was completely different from last year, which felt more like a historic moment they couldn't enjoy properly because of Covid. Now it felt like a confirmation of their growth and the cherry on top of the incredible year they had.

"Champions champions Ole... We are the kings of Germany..."

For a good ten minutes, they celebrated in front of their fans, waving team flags that some players had somehow managed to find. They signed autographs, took pictures and interacted with them, keeping a safe distance. It was during this hustle and bustle that Rakim was pulled

away by one of the trainers for a post-match interview.

Before he knew it, he stood in front of the Sky Deutschland camera, still breathing hard, his Black Leverkusen shirt soaked with sweat and water from the celebrations. The interviewer, Jessica Libbertz, held a microphone between them, smiling. "Rakim, congratulations. Back-to-back DFB-Pokal champions. How does it feel?"

Rakim wiped his face with his shirt, then looked at the camera. "We say we play to win every match, but it feels special when your achievement culminates with a tangible piece of silverware. Last year was historic in ending the long drought, but this year... this feels like just the cherry on top of an incredible season."

"You scored the opening goal in the 69th minute, then Bellarabi got the winner in the 88th. Take us through those moments."

"The first one, I just saw space," Rakim said, his right hand moving a few wet locs from his face, not noticing the hot glance from the females increasing. "I don't need much to decide to go for it, especially when my team needs me to make something happen. Lucky for me, I managed to catch them off guard, and my teammates opened up space by making decoy runs."

"Leipzig equalised in the 81st minute. Did you ever doubt yourselves?"

"Leipzig is an incredible team, so we didn't anticipate a hard fight, but did we worry after conceding, no, not really." Rakim shook his head. "We have been in situations like this all season. We knew we had time and came into this match knowing that we would get a few chances, and it was our job to make them count."

"Well, you guys did a good job staying patient; it sure kept us on tenterhooks." She replied in an amused tone. "You're set to play in the Champions League final in two weeks against Chelsea. How are you feeling about that?"

Rakim's expression shifted slightly, becoming more serious. "Chelsea are a top side, one of the best in Europe. They've beaten incredible sides to get here, so they're not to be underestimated." He paused for a moment, thinking over his next words, before continuing. "However, for now, we will pause and take in the views of what he achieved tonight."

"Last question," Jessica said, glancing at her notes. "You're potentially set to decide the

Bundesliga in two days against Union Berlin with one match remaining. What does this mean for the club?"

Rakim's expression softened slightly, a small smile forming. "It means everything, Leverkusen as a club, city and fanbase have been yearning for this trophy, for 58 years, 10 months and 12 days since the establishment of the Bundesliga." He paused, smiling warmly at the camera before kissing the crest on his kit. "Congratulations, the wait has ended, and what a way to do it, back-to-back cup wins, leading the league and a chance at the greatest club trophy in the world."

"Beautiful words," Jessica said, her smile widening. "Thank you, Rakim. Congratulations again, and best of luck in the final. We are all rooting for you."

"Hahaha, thank you, but can a reporter be that biased?" He asked, an amused smile on his face.

"There is only one German team, so I think I'll get away with it."

"Haha, thank you," Rakim said, nodding before jogging back toward his teammates.

~~~

A temporary stage had been assembled at the centre circle, draped in DFB-Pokal branding. The trophy itself sat on a pedestal under the floodlights, gleaming gold, catching every beam of light. It looked like something straight out of a Babylonian treasure chest, culminating in the German league's wealth.

DFB officials in suits moved efficiently, setting up as the RB squad formed in two neat rows along the side, creating a human tunnel. At some point, they had been given their Silver medal without walking the stage and remained out of sportsmanship. Tah gathered the squad captain's armband, still fastened to his bicep, breathing hard but grinning hard.

The rest of the squad on the official match list eagerly joined them, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Fritz Keller, the chairman of the German Football Association, stepped up to the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your 2020-21 DFB-Pokal champions with a score of 1-2 Bayer 04 Leverkusen!"

The away section roared, their voices hoarse, as Red and black flags waved full of vigour in the stands. The official gestured for the players to approach, and one by one they climbed the steps: Hradecky first, then Wendell, Baumgartlinger, Aránguiz...Rakim. Each received their medal, shook hands with the DFB president, then moved to the side.

When Rakim walked onto the stage, he accepted his medal with a handshake and shared a few words with the DFB president. They seemed to have shared an animated conversation, both nodding in turn, before separating with a handshake and shoulder bump, smiling in turn. The older man looked confused more than anything, but smiled brightly nonetheless as he continued his duties.

After the last of the coaching staff joined the stage, Tah walked up, received his medal and walked to the front of the stage with Fritz Keller. The man lifted the golden trophy into the air and symbolically handed it to Tah before stepping out of the human huddle. The captain gripped it with both hands, paused for a moment, as the players behind him began to bounce in excitement.

"Oooooo ohhhhhhh." The squad erupted as he lifted the trophy into the air. Confetti cannons exploded from the corners of the stadium, gold streamers raining down onto the pitch. "CHAMPIONS! CHAMPIONS! OLE OLE OLE!"

Tah turned slowly, letting every section of the stadium see the trophy raised high above his head. The gold gleamed under the floodlights, catching every angle as confetti continued to rain down. He brought it down to chest level, kissing it once, then passed it to Hradecky standing beside him.

The Finnish goalkeeper lifted it with both hands, a massive grin splitting his face. "FOR LEVERKUSEN!" he shouted, his voice barely audible over the noise. He passed it to Wendell, who hoisted it overhead, then to Baumgartlinger, who kissed the golden surface before handing it to Aránguiz.

Each player took their moment—some lifted it triumphantly, others held it close, a few kissed it reverently. When the trophy reached Rakim, he gripped it firmly, feeling its weight, and swung it up and down each time, eliciting a roar from the crowd. The 10,000 travelling fans lost their minds, jumping, screaming, waving flags frantically. Finally, he brought the trophy down and handed it to the next person, smiling brightly.

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TO Be Continued...