My Ultimate Gacha System-Chapter 290 - 279: Post-Match to Morning II

Artemio Franchi - Car Park

11:47 PM

Outside the car park was calmer now because most media had dispersed and the crowd noise from the stadium had faded to distant echoes, and security lights hummed overhead while creating pools of yellow illumination across the pavement.

Demien spotted his mother leaning against her car near the players’ exit, and she was wearing jeans and a dark jacket while her arms were folded casually, and when she saw him approaching she opened her arms before he reached her.

The hug was tight and lasted several seconds, and her hands pressed against his back while his face rested briefly against her shoulder, and neither spoke.

When they separated Isabella’s hands stayed on his shoulders.

"I watched everything," she said, and her voice carried warmth mixed with understanding. "You played well. The result doesn’t change that."

Demien nodded once. "Thanks for being here."

"Always," Isabella replied, and she released his shoulders before turning toward the car. "Let’s go home."

Florence Streets

11:53 PM

They drove through Florence with the windows cracked and cool April air coming through, and streetlights passed over the dashboard while Saturday evening traffic moved around them.

The conversation started naturally without forced structure.

"You created that second goal well," Isabella said while keeping her eyes on the road. "The pass to Højlund was perfect."

"Yeah, the buildup was good," Demien replied. "Just couldn’t sustain it after we equalized."

"The third goal—where were you positioned when they scored?"

"Caught between pressing their midfielder and tracking back. Chose wrong."

Isabella nodded once. "Fatigue?"

"Some. Mostly decision-making."

They drove in silence for thirty seconds before Isabella spoke again.

"Six matches left in the season. That’s what matters now."

"I know," Demien said, and his head rested against the window while buildings passed outside. "Milan are only one point ahead. Still possible."

"More than possible," Isabella corrected. "You’re one point behind with six matches. That’s nothing."

The conversation faded naturally as they continued driving, and Demien’s eyes tracked the buildings passing by—Renaissance buildings lit by spotlights, narrow streets, pedestrians moving between restaurants and bars.

Isabella’s Apartment - Florence

12:08 AM

The apartment building stood in a quiet residential area several blocks from the city center, and Isabella parked in her designated spot before they walked together toward the entrance.

The elevator ride to the third floor was silent except for the mechanical hum, and when the doors opened Isabella led the way down a corridor with muted lighting and closed apartment doors on both sides.

Her key turned in the lock and she pushed the door open.

"Surprise!"

Balloons fell from where they’d been attached to the doorframe and laughter filled the room immediately, and a banner stretched across the far wall reading "HAPPY 19TH BIRTHDAY DEMIEN" in blue and black letters.

Demien stopped just inside the doorway and blinked once while his brain processed the scene, and his mouth opened slightly before closing again without words coming out.

Sophia stepped forward from where she’d been standing beside the couch and her smile was wide, and Demien laughed before pulling her into a hug.

"I thought you weren’t coming," he said into her hair.

She pulled back enough to look up at him and her hands stayed on his chest. "I wasn’t going to miss your birthday."

He kissed her quickly and instinctively, and someone whistled from across the room while someone else clapped twice, and when they separated both were smiling.

The room held maybe fifteen people—friends from his time at Fiorentina’s academy, a few university students Sophia had introduced him to, Isabella’s close friend Maria who’d helped organize everything—and the atmosphere was relaxed.

Music played softly from speakers positioned near the television, and a table against the wall held food and drinks arranged neatly, and the lighting was warm without being dim.

One of Demien’s former academy teammates—Francesco, who now played for Fiorentina’s U21 squad—approached with a beer extended forward.

"Tough match," Francesco said while they shook hands. "But you played well."

"Thanks," Demien replied, and he took the beer without drinking immediately. "How’s the U21 season going?"

"Good. We’re second in the table. Might get promoted to Primavera 1 next year."

They talked for three minutes about football and training before Francesco drifted back toward another group, and Demien moved through the room exchanging brief conversations with people he recognized while Sophia stayed close beside him.

Someone brought up an old story from academy training about a drill that had gone wrong and resulted in everyone getting extra running as punishment, and Demien shook his head while smiling because the memory was ridiculous in retrospect even though it hadn’t been funny at the time.

Isabella watched from the kitchen doorway with her arms folded and her expression showing contentment, and Maria stood beside her saying something that made Isabella laugh quietly.

The doorbell rang again at 12:34 AM and Demien moved toward it while setting his beer down, and when he opened the door Adriano stood in the hallway holding a bottle of red wine with a bow tied around the neck.

They looked at each other for one second before both laughed, and Demien stepped forward and they hugged.

"Happy birthday," Adriano said while they separated, and he extended the wine forward. "Figured you could use this after tonight."

"Thanks," Demien replied while taking the bottle. "Didn’t expect you to come."

"Of course I came. We’re still friends off the pitch."

Elena appeared in the doorway behind Adriano wearing a simple dress and her dark hair pulled back, and she smiled politely when Demien’s eyes found her.

"Hi Demien," Elena said, and her voice was friendly without carrying weight beyond basic courtesy. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks," Demien replied, and his response was equally simple. "Come in."

Adriano entered first and moved immediately toward where several people were gathered near the food table, and Elena followed while offering a small wave toward Sophia who returned it with professional politeness.

No tension hung in the air because everyone understood tonight wasn’t about match results or drama.

The night wore on and conversations flowed naturally without forced energy, and voices softened gradually as midnight passed into early morning while some guests began checking their phones for the time.

Shoes were put back on and jackets were retrieved, and goodbyes were exchanged with hugs and promises to stay in touch.

The door closed again and again until the apartment quieted properly, and by 1:47 AM only Sophia and Demien remained while Isabella had already gone to her bedroom with a final goodnight.

Isabella’s Guest Room

1:51 AM

Upstairs in the guest room that Isabella kept prepared for when Demien visited, he closed the door behind them and the lock clicked softly into place.

Sophia stepped close and her hands came to rest on his chest, and he kissed her with more time than before because now there were no interruptions.

They moved toward the bed without breaking contact and bumped into the mattress edge, and Demien laughed once while his breathing came slightly faster, and Sophia’s smile widened before they fell backward onto the covers together.

They sat up briefly and shoes were kicked off—his dress shoes landing near the closet, her heels falling beside the nightstand—and a shirt was pulled over his head and tossed aside onto the floor.

Her fingers slid under the hem of his undershirt and the fabric rose as her hands moved upward across his stomach and chest, and when the shirt cleared his head she dropped it beside the other one before her mouth found his again.

The kissing deepened and movement slowed, and his hands moved to her waist before sliding around to her back, and she shifted closer until no space remained between them.

Time passed in fragments—minutes blending together without clear boundaries—and the room grew quiet except for breathing that came heavier as clothes continued being removed piece by piece.

The light switch was pressed and darkness filled the room except for faint illumination from streetlights outside filtering through thin curtains, and shadows moved across walls as bodies shifted position on the mattress.

Breathing. Warmth. Contact.

The world outside ceased to exist.

—

Sunday, April 16, 2023

Isabella’s Apartment - Florence

6:00 AM

A sharp alarm cut through the dark.

Demien’s eyes opened immediately.