God Of football

Chapter 170: No More Headlines

”Rising Star Izan Arrives in Madrid: Real Madrid Transfer Rumors Swirl.” Staring at his phone, Izan read the piece.

The article went on to elaborate on how Izan, accompanied by his agent, Miranda, had been spotted in the city, allegedly to finalize talks with the Spanish giants.

It speculated wildly about contract terms, potential squad roles, and even what jersey number he might take.

Izan reading for a while, burst out laughing, the sound echoing softly on the quiet street. The sheer creativity of the reporter’s imagination was impressive.

”Discussing a deal with Real Madrid? Really?” he muttered to himself. He could almost picture Miranda’s reaction to the article—an eye-roll, followed by a sharp comment about how quickly rumours spread.

Shaking his head, Izan typed back to Jude.

> ”Hilarious. The imagination these reporters have! I just got here for a YSL shoot, not a transfer. Let’s hang out tomorrow though. I’ll be free.”

Jude’s reply came almost instantly.

> ”Damn, YSL, you’re good mate. Anyways I’ll text you the details. Madrid’s a great place—time for you to see it with a proper guide.”

Izan laughed at Jude calling himself a proper guide. He hadn’t even been at Real Madrid for a year.

>Sure. See you tomorrow.

Still chuckling, Izan pocketed his phone and glanced up at the Madrid skyline. The city buzzed with energy, and while the rumours were far from true, the attention reminded him of how far he’d come.

Tomorrow promised to be another exciting day, this time with Jude showing him the city.

For now, though, he just wanted to enjoy the moment—and maybe get some rest after an unforgettable shoot but he knew that would be a bit difficult after the article.

........

As Izan stepped into Miranda’s chic Madrid apartment, he was greeted by the faint aroma of coffee and the soft hum of Miranda’s voice echoing from the living room.

She was pacing, her phone pressed to her ear, her tone sharp yet controlled. Her words, though muffled, were enough to clue Izan in on the situation.

”Yes, I understand the speculation,” Miranda was saying, her hand gesturing animatedly. ”But I can’t comment on baseless rumours. You’ll have to wait for an official statement.”

Izan dropped his duffel bag by the door and made his way into the living room, where Miranda was still clad in her sleek black suit, looking every bit the powerhouse agent she was becoming.

She briefly glanced at him and raised a finger, signalling for him to wait. The television was on, muted, but the ticker at the bottom read:

”BREAKING: Rising Star Izan Spotted in Madrid—Real Madrid Deal Imminent?”

Miranda ended the call with a sigh, only for her phone to buzz again. She answered, her voice shifting into professional mode.

”This is Miranda. Yes, he’s in Madrid. No, I cannot confirm or deny anything regarding Real Madrid.” Her tone grew clipped. ”Thank you. Goodbye.”

She hung up and looked at Izan with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

”You’re the talk of the town, once again kid. Media outlets are in a frenzy. They think you’re here to sign with Madrid.”

Izan laughed, shaking his head as he flopped onto the couch. ”Seriously? All this because I came here for a shoot?”

Miranda folded her arms. ”You’re underestimating your star power. And the media’s capacity for sensationalism.”

As if on cue, Izan’s phone buzzed repeatedly. He pulled it out to find his socials flooded with notifications.

Fans from all over the world were commenting, but Valencia fans dominated his feed, their messages a mix of panic and anger.

> ”Izan, say it isn’t true! Are you leaving us?”

”Madrid? Really? What about Valencia?”

”If this is true, I’m unfollowing you!”

”People let’s be civil. Nothing has been said yet so why are we jumping to conclusions? Trust the boy a little ”

Izan groaned, rubbing his temples. ”They’re freaking out. At least that comment is good.”

”And they’re not the only ones,” Miranda said grimly. ”I just got a call from a Valencia representative. They want to know your stance on all this.”

She sat down across from him, her expression serious. ”We need to get ahead of this, Izan. If this spirals out of control, it could affect your relationship with the club—and your career.”

Izan leaned back, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t want his fans or Valencia to feel betrayed, but he also didn’t want to let this rumour overshadow the real reason he was in Madrid.

After a moment of silence, he sat up, his jaw set. ”I think I know how to handle this.”

Miranda raised an eyebrow. ”Oh? Do tell.”

”Selene took a picture of us during the shoot today,” Izan began, pulling out his phone. ”She said she wanted to post it, but I wasn’t sure earlier since it could jeopardise the deal but she said it was okay.

Now, though, I think it’s the perfect way to clear things up. I’ll post it and let her post it again and confirm that I was here for the YSL shoot.

And…” He hesitated, smiled then continued, ”I’ll agree to be her muse. It’ll give the fans and media something else to focus on.”

Miranda’s eyes sparkled with approval. ”Not bad, Izan. A bit of flair and transparency. I like it.”

Izan quickly drafted a message to Selene, explaining the situation and his idea.

Within minutes, Selene replied enthusiastically, promising to post the picture right away.

True to her word, her Instagram updated shortly after with a black-and-white photo of her and Izan on set, both of them looking effortlessly stylish. The caption read:

”An absolute pleasure working with @IzanHernandez today for YSL. Excited to announce that he’ll be my muse for an upcoming project of mine. Stay tuned for magic! 💫”

The post immediately began to circulate, with fans and media outlets picking it up.

Izan refreshed his feed, watching as the narrative began to shift. Fans commented with relief:

> ”Oh thank God, he’s not leaving Valencia!”

”Wait, Izan is collaborating with YSL and will be Selene’s muse in her next project? That’s legendary!”

”Madrid rumours debunked. Everyone can calm down now.”

Miranda looked over his shoulder, nodding in approval. ”Crisis averted. For now.”

Izan exhaled, a weight lifting off his chest. ”Let’s just hope this is enough to keep the rumours at bay.”

As the evening wore on, the tensions eased, and the apartment settled into a calm silence. Izan leaned back on the couch, a small smile tugging at his lips.

The day had been chaotic, but it ended with clarity.

.....

As the soft glow of the evening Madrid skyline seeped into the apartment, Izan approached Miranda, who was now seated at the dining table with a cup of tea in hand.

She was scrolling through her phone, likely reviewing the latest articles and social media buzz about him.

”Hey, Miranda,” Izan began, pulling out a chair to sit across from her.

She glanced up, her sharp eyes assessing him. ”What’s on your mind, Izan?”

”Well, I talked to Jude Bellingham earlier. He invited me to hang out tomorrow at his place.” Izan said as he glanced at his phone trying to retrieve something.

Miranda raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised but intrigued. ”His house? Jude doesn’t exactly invite just anyone over. That’s... interesting.”

Izan shrugged, though he couldn’t hide the small grin tugging at his lips. ”I guess he wants to show me around, maybe talk football or just chill. He sent me the address.”

He handed her his phone, showing the message Jude had sent with the details.

Miranda studied it for a moment, then nodded thoughtfully. ”It’s in La Moraleja,” she said, recognizing the upscale neighbourhood known for housing Madrid’s elite.

”Not a bad spot. This could be a good opportunity for you to connect with him on a personal level.”

”I figured as much,” Izan replied. ”But, uh... I don’t know my way around Madrid, and I’d rather not risk getting lost. Think you could help me with a ride?”

Miranda smirked, setting her tea down. ”I can arrange that. I’ll have a car take you there and pick you up afterwards.

But Izan,” she added, leaning forward, her tone turning serious, ”remember who you’re meeting.

Jude is a professional through and through, and he’s been in the spotlight longer than you especially since joining Real Madrid and being British and all and you know those guys create hype.

This isn’t just a casual hangout—it’s a chance to learn from him, to see how he handles himself both on and off the pitch.”

Izan nodded, taking her words to heart. ”I understand. I’ll keep it cool.”

”Good,” Miranda said, her smirk returning. ”And one more thing—try not to let this turn into another headline. The media’s already having a field day with you being here.”

Izan chuckled. ”No promises, but I’ll do my best.”

Turning around, Izan turned to the couch and settled down while taking out his Nintendo Switch and hopping onto some FC while Miranda started making something for the evening.