The echoes of celebration still lingered in the air, but far from Málaga, two women sat in the quiet solitude of their own thoughts—each watching from a distance as Adriano soared to new heights, both proud and heartbroken in their own ways.
Hailee Steinfeld sat alone in her dimly lit bedroom in Los Angeles, staring at the television screen where highlights of Málaga's historic La Liga triumph played. The commentator's voice was filled with excitement.
"Adriano Riveiro —the star of the season! What a journey it has been for the young superstar ! From an unknown talent to a league champion in just one year—his rise has been nothing short of extraordinary!"
She smiled, a genuine, warm expression that reached her eyes. She had always believed in him. Even when no one else had known his name, she had seen his drive, his passion. She had loved him for it.
But as the highlights continued, that happiness was tinged with a familiar ache. A feeling of loss.
Adriano had moved forward. Well, he moved on from her almost immediately, not that she could blame him. It was her choice to give up.
He had conquered his first real challenge, standing atop Spanish football as a champion. Meanwhile, she had been trapped in the past. Ever since her parents had forced her to end things and pulled her out of public life, she had felt like a prisoner in her own home.
The months had passed in a blur—private tutors, endless press control from her agency, a carefully curated silence. Her career, her choices, everything had been dictated for her. And all the while, she had watched him from afar, unable to reach out, unable to even tell him how proud she was.
"What could have been the future if she held on?"
It was a question she had asked herself too many times. If things had been different—if she had stayed in Spain, if she never cared for her acting career, if her parents hadn't interfered, if she had fought harder—would she have been by his side, celebrating with him? Or would they have just drifted apart, as she falls further behind him?
A tear slipped down her cheek before she wiped it away, shaking her head.
"No more regrets."
Adriano had kept going, pushing himself to be the best. If she ever saw him again, she didn't want to be just another forgotten chapter in his story. She wanted to stand on her own two feet, to carve out her own legacy.
For too long, she had let others dictate her life. That ended now.
Hailee picked up her phone and, for the first time in months, opened her messages. She scrolled through old conversations, lingering on Adriano's name before taking a deep breath.
"No. Not yet."
Instead, she opened a blank page and began writing. Not to him, but to herself.
A list. Goals. Dreams. It was time to move on.
If fate ever brought them together again, she wanted to stand beside him, not behind him. She would apologize and at least try to be a friend, if he accepted it.
Meanwhile in Milan, Blanca Suárez sat on the edge of her bed in her hotel suite , staring at her phone screen. The words were simple, typed in seconds, but the weight behind them felt unbearable.
"Congratulations on your incredible achievement, Adriano. You deserve this. Always believed in you."
She hesitated, her finger hovering over the post button.
Would he even see it? Would he even care?
She let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes.
The pain of their recent breakup was still fresh, an open wound she wasn't sure would ever fully heal. It had been mutual—or at least, that's what they had told themselves.
Their lives were always too busy, their schedules pulling them in opposite directions. She had been preparing for one of the biggest fashion expos of her career, while he had been fighting to take Málaga to the top of Spanish football. And even after that, it never ends.
They had tried. Late-night calls, trying to keep in touch . It was never enough. They hoped love would mend the wounds. But in the end, love hadn't been enough to bridge the gap.
And now… here he was, standing at the pinnacle of his success, surrounded by teammates and fans. And here she was, alone in her room, tired in both body and soul , feeling the absence of something she had once held so dearly.
"I should be there."
The thought made her chest tighten. Would things have been different if she had chosen love over career? If she had been younger, less burdened by the pressures of her industry? If she had fought harder to stay by his side?
But life didn't work on what if's.
Blanca opened her eyes and pressed post. The post was sent , out into the world. It was all she could do as a friend.
She placed her phone down beside her and lay back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling.
She was happy for him. She truly was. But no matter how much she told herself to move on, the scars remained.
A part of her wished, just for a moment, that she could go back in time and choose differently.
But time only moved forward.
And so would she.
The sunlight streamed through the blinds as Adriano stretched lazily in his bed, still feeling the lingering fatigue from the celebrations. It had been a night to remember—champagne showers, chants of his name, and the pure euphoria of lifting the trophy.
With a groggy yawn, he rolled out of bed and made his way to the door, intending to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen. But the moment he pulled the door open, he froze.
A mountain of gifts stood in front of him, completely blocking his doorway.
"What the…" Adriano blinked, rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't still dreaming.
There were bags stacked on top of boxes, colorful wrappings, ribbons, and handwritten notes peeking out from between them. Some were neatly packaged, others hastily wrapped, and some had massive bows that looked like they belonged on Christmas presents.
He stared in disbelief before bursting into laughter. "Are you kidding me?"
Carefully, he reached out and picked up the first gift—a small package with his name written in elegant script. A card was attached:
"From Málaga CF, our champion! More to come, legend!"
Shaking his head with a grin, Adriano grabbed another one. This time, it was from his teammates:
"Enjoy the rest, you workaholic. Just don't forget us when you're the best player in the world! - The boys"
The next one made his heart warm. It was from his landlady, Señora Estrella, who had always treated him like a grandson. Inside was a hand-knitted scarf in the club's colors, along with a note that read:
"For the cold nights when you're thinking too much about football instead of sleeping!"
Even the security guard of the apartment complex, a kind old man named Mateo, had left a small wrapped package. When Adriano opened it, he found a simple but well-polished keychain in the shape of a football boot.
"You remind me of my younger days, kid. Keep making us proud."
Feeling overwhelmed, Adriano carefully brought all the gifts inside, stacking them on his couch, table, and anywhere he could find space. By the time he was done, his living room looked like a gift shop.
He exhaled, smiling to himself. "I have to share this."
Taking a step back, he held up his phone and snapped a photo—the pile of gifts behind him, a big grin on his face. He quickly typed a caption and posted it to his social media:
"Woke up this morning to find my door completely blocked by love! ❤️ I can't even put into words how grateful I am for all of you—my teammates, the club, my fans, and even my neighbors and the whole community ! I promise to cherish every single one of these gifts. Thank you for making this moment even more special. "
As he scrolled through the packages, his eyes landed on one that made him chuckle. A small pink box, decorated with stickers, had a note scribbled in crayon:
"For Adriano! From Ayala, I'm 10 years old and from Sevilla! I love to see you play the most . I hope you like it!"
Curious, he opened it and found a tiny pink hairclip with gems embedded that was shaped like a butterfly.
He laughed. "Oh, this is too good."
Without hesitation, he clipped it onto his hair and took another selfie, this time looking completely unserious with the pink clip sitting atop his messy morning hair.
He uploaded it with a second caption:
"Shoutout to Ayala for the best gift! 🦋 You guys think I can pull this look off? 😂"
Within minutes, his notifications exploded and Comments flooded in:
@malagacf_official:"We have a new fashion icon! 😂🔥"
@sergioramos: "Damn, this is how stars dress now? I'll need an upgrade."
@samuel_garcia:"If you show up to training like this bro, I'm done."
@JoaquinLegend : " My daughter has a similar hair clip. Let me know if you want more 😂😂."
@fan_adriano10:"ADRIANO SAW MY DAUGHTERS GIFT AND EVEN WORE IT! SHE IS SO HAPPY!!! 😭😭😭"
@football_daily: "Adriano continues to win hearts both on and off the pitch. What a guy. 💙"
Laughter bubbled up in Adriano's chest as he scrolled through the endless reactions. Jokes, love, admiration—all mixed together.
He shook his head and smiled.
He had won a title. But this?
This was the real victory.
Now, the Copa Del Rey final awaits, and he would do everything to win it and make this season more memorable for Malaga fans.