b5_ Okay Ggs to real madrid they are sooo FUCKED 😂😂
@retarded_takes replying to @b5_ lol why would you say that
@b5_ replying to @retarded_takes ooh have you watched the interview mateo just did with movistar, he means business 😅😂
@retarded_takes replying to @b5_ Yeah i watched it, why do you think madrid are in any danger cause of that
@b5_ replying to @retarded_takes Dude if you watched the interview you would get why i made my first tweet
@retarded_takes replying to @b5_ I got your tweet it just makes no sense. How would Mateo say real madrid are the same as the youth team, thats just factually wrong. The level is much higher. Stars all over the pitch. Kross, Vinicius, Benzema, Modric. You cant just say they are the same cause of vibes
@b5_ replying to @retarded_takes dude it was just a quip cause of what ramos said it aint that deep
@retarded_takes replying to @b5_ It just makes zero sense. And even what he said doesnt make sense grammatically. What does "before he was Was" even mean?
@b5_ replying to @retarded_takes dude its a play on words it means before he was born
@retarded_takes replying to @b5_ That makes even less sense so he hated madrid before he was anything? Before he existed? So he came out of the womb hating madrid?
@b5_ replying to @retarded_takes Okay who IS this fool. Dude leave my mentions. The fuck is this dullard. I should have known from your name honestly, I don't blame you I blame myself for even entertaining you
@retarded_takes replying to @b5_ Of course a barcelona fan going straight to insults cause he cant back up his claim 😂
@b5_ replying to @retarded_takes Dude fucking leave me alone are you mad
@retarded_takes replying to @b5_ Cope harder. Madrid are going to destroy that scam artist. This isnt fucking getafe. He is getting cooked. The disrespectful fucker. This is the big leagues 😂😂😂😂😂
@b5_ replying to @retarded_takes BLOCKED. fucking retard get the fuck out
That exchange was everywhere within the hour.
The Mateo King interview had been reshared and reposted by almost every major football account, every La Liga channel, every sports media handle with more than fifty thousand followers. By the time the Camp Nou celebrations had moved from the pitch to the tunnel, the clip was already being cut into shorter versions. Thirty seconds. Fifteen seconds. The specific ten-second version that ended on "at the Bernabéu. Next round." and nothing else. That version went the fastest.
The internet had decided this was the moment.
@AbeikuJr Ooo i can just see the scenes from when mateo does a hattrick at the bernabeu and does the suii on their heads 😭😭😂
@Amos Nah mateo is still smooth with it i almost didnt get what he was talking about 😂😂😂
@Taz Now THIS is exactly what I'm talking about. El clasico had been dead for a long while now. This is how i want two teams who are called the world rivals going at each other. This is the energy the fixture has been missing for years fr
@FootballBrainrot I feel mateo might have bitten more than he can chew with this one. Very talented guy but there is no need to antagonize a team like real madrid especially with the ramos situation. Ramos is very experienced. Mateo should have reacted better.
@GlobeTrotter_FCB replying to @FootballBrainrot Bro mateo destroyed PSG, decimated Bayern and fucking DOMINATED City, still the best first leg performance i have ever seen in my life. No one gives a fuck about madrid bro he is going to destroy them 😂😂 And as for ramos, mateo is just hitting back. If ramos doesnt want this he should not have been talking about him in the first place
@FootballBrainrot replying to @GlobeTrotter_FCB Dont get me wrong im a barcelona fan and i have watched all our games this season. But we need to be realistic. Mateo is just 17. He shouldnt be getting this much media attention, its not good for him. Plus he should let his football do the talking for him. I mean look at messi. Mateo should learn from him. This isnt the barcelona identity
@GlobeTrotter_FCB replying to @FootballBrainrot I hate fans like you. You are NOT a barcelona fan. Mateo is mateo, messi is messi. They are not the same person. Let mateo be himself
@FootballBrainrot replying to @GlobeTrotter_FCB Wow dude i dont get why you are so hostile. All i had was good intentions. He is still a kid. And you have no say in which team i support especially not one i have been supporting since 1996 lol. All these gen z fans
@GlobeTrotter_FCB replying to @FootballBrainrot Dude you are not a barcelona fan get the fuck out with your fake love
@FootballBrainrot replied with a gif
The gif was one that had been circulating since the City first leg. Mateo King flat on his back on the Camp nou pitch after an incredible one man run, staring up at the stadium lights, the small private smile on his face that the broadcast camera had caught before he had known it was there. The gif had no caption. It did not need one. It was the specific gif that Barcelona fans deployed when the argument was over and they had decided to stop explaining themselves.
@MadridForever1902 Ramos i dont need to say too much. You need to humble this kid.
@Pitch_Perfect_Pod Now THIS is the El Clasico i have been waiting for. Does anyone know where i can still get tickets for this game
@ViralFootballClips Watch ishowspeed reaction to barcelona beating real sociedad 🔥🔥
@NoMore replying to @ViralFootballClips No one gives a fuck about this guy stop shoving him in our faces
@Messi4Life Who sees the way Messi looks so attentive when mateo is talking 👀
@FCB_Diaries replying to @Messi4Life Dudeee i thought i was the only one that noticed. Almost every single interview you see how messi is looking at him when he talks. You just know that love 😂😂
@LaLigaLad replying to @MessiWatcher As long as mateo is talking the autism seems to disappear instantly 😂
@BarcelonaForever Seeing messi carrying mateo like that brought actual tears to my eyes. So much emotion in that moment. We are literally witnessing a great switch in barcelona and in football history right now. All i can say is we are blessed to be alive to see this
@The7Mateo King is about to learn why its called the Bernabeu. See you soon @MateoKing 👋
@TruthHurtsFC This dude is very prideful. He is about to learn the hard way. I will be there when he crashes and burns 😂😂
@CulerTillIDie replying to @TruthHurtsFC Waiting for the downfall of a 17 year old? You madrid fans are never beating the allegations
@TruthHurtsFC replying to @CulerTillIDie lol im a chelsea fan btw
@CulerTillIDie replying to @TruthHurtsFC Ooh okay i get it now. You are pre hating already cause you are already afraid of what he is about to do to your club come May 😂😂😂 Just keep hating it wont stop the beating coming your way
@TruthHurtsFC replying to @CulerTillIDie You wish 😂 No way this barcelona team are beating chelsea with that your shit team. Get real
@CulerTillIDie replying to @TruthHurtsFC Im not going to make much noise. Just make sure you reply back after mateo has already scored his hattrick against you guys 😂😂
@TruthHurtsFC replying to @CulerTillIDie You delusional barca fans are funny. That overhyped dude scoring in that farmers league is not doing shit in a real game. Rudiger is enough to handle him. Rudiger alone. Done.
@CulerTillIDie replying to @TruthHurtsFC Highest goal scorer in the champions league this season mind you. But im not going to keep going. Just make sure you are online May 29. Do not log off 😂
And more tweets came. And more videos. And more shorts and TikToks and reaction clips and breakdown threads and hot take posts from accounts with fifty followers and accounts with five million, from fans of clubs that were not even in Spain, from pundits who had never watched a La Liga match in their lives, from people who had watched the ten-second clip and people who had watched the full forty-minute post-match broadcast and people who had watched nothing and were going entirely on the information their timeline had given them.
Every platform had it. Every format. Every language.
The anticipation for this El Clasico was one that had not been seen in years.
All it had taken was two interviews. An old captain fighting to stay relevant and a new star choosing to live in his moment. Two people on opposite sides of one of football's oldest rivalries deciding, in the same week, to reach across the air between them and grab.
Whatever the outcome, everyone could tell.
This El Clasico was going to be something.
It was going to be epic.
But before then, back at the Camp Nou, which had turned into a festival ground across every corner of the building, in the medical bay at the end of the players' tunnel, the night was still going.
...
"What did you say?"
Away from the noise. Away from the whole of Barcelona which had turned itself into a festival the moment the final whistle had gone.
The medical bay at the end of the players' tunnel was cool and white and quiet. the overhead lights steady, the equipment arranged with the orderliness of a room that existed for a single purpose. Dr. Javier Morales sat back on his stool, adjusting the instruments on the tray beside him, his movements the relaxed movements of a doctor who had just completed a check-up and had not found anything that worried him.
"Everything looks fine, Pedri. There is nothing to be afraid of. The muscle readings are normal, the joint is stable, no swelling. You are good."
Pedri was sitting on the examining table, both legs hanging off the edge. He had a towel across his shoulders. He was not looking at the doctor.
"Hmm."
He said it at half volume. He was looking at his left leg.
"While I was, ehm."
He stopped himself. He tried again.
"While I was playing. In the second half. I felt a tight knot. In my left thigh. Just for a bit."
Dr. Morales nodded.
"That is normal with the kind of overexertion you have been under. The muscle contracts when it has been pushed past the sustainable load. It is your body telling you it needs rest. It is not an injury. It is a warning."
"Just make sure you rest a little and it should be fine, I would also send instructions to the coaching staff to reduce the intensity of your training in the coming days"
Pedri looked at him.
Then he looked back at his left leg. He started flexing it slowly, bending the knee and extending it, watching the muscle through the thin compression fabric of his shorts. He could not feel the knot now. The tightness that had been there in the 60th minute was gone, replaced by the standard soreness of a player who had run the distance he had run in the time he had run it.
Maybe it really had been the stress.
Dr. Morales watched him flex the leg. He had seen this before. The young player who had been told he was fine and was trying to verify the diagnosis with his own hands.
"Pedri. You are fine. I promise you. What you need is sleep, water, and a day where no one asks you to run anywhere."
Pedri looked up.
He held the doctor's eyes for a second.
Then he exhaled. His shoulders dropped. He let the leg go still.
"That is good."
He said it low. More to himself than to the doctor.
From somewhere far above them, through the concrete and the corridors and the walls of the stadium, the sound came down. The chants from the stands where some of the supporters had not yet left. The Barcelona anthem cycling through the PA system. The noise of a city that had decided the evening was not over.
Outside those walls, the city had broken open.
The streets around the Camp Nou were full. Supporters in scarves, in jerseys, in masks painted in the club's colours, were moving in the specific celebratory chaos of a fanbase that had just watched its team go level at the top of the table with three matches left. The music was going. The drums were going. One man near the main entrance had acquired a megaphone from somewhere that nobody had explained and was leading a chant that the people around him were following with the full commitment of people who had been waiting all night to use their voices this loudly.
Girls to one side of the crowd had thrown their arms up and screamed, the pitch of it cutting through the deeper crowd noise. The laughs followed. The jumps. The embraces between strangers who were not strangers because they had been sitting in the same stadium for ninety minutes and had shared enough of the same moment to know each other now.
Visca Barça.
The words were everywhere.
Barcelona had just won their last home game of the season, tonight the whole city was going to celebrate that.
In the private parking section at the side of the stadium, a different kind of noise.
"Hahahahaha."
Mateo was laughing.
The sounds from the celebration outside were filtering through clearly here, the wall of it audible over the low hum of the car park lighting. Oriol Cerdà was standing a few feet away from the small group, and he was bouncing. Up. Down. Up. Both heels coming off the ground, his head turning toward the noise coming from beyond the gates, his body making the very specific physical argument that it wanted to go join whatever was happening on the other side of that wall.
"You seem like you want to join them," Mateo said.
Oriol turned. Sharp. The big smile on his face doing nothing to help his case.
"What makes you say that?"
Mateo laughed harder seeing the look.
Oriol turned back. He looked at the gate. He looked at the noise. He took one step.
"Okay, that is it."
Isabella moved first.
She stepped toward her brother-in-law with the calm decisive energy of a woman who had known this man for two decades and had been watching this exact situation develop for the last ninety seconds.
"It is time to start heading home."
"Wait, I—"
She was already pushing him gently but with full commitment toward the car.
"The grandma. Your mother. My Best friend. Your wife. The Mother of your child. Drive to them. No stops."
Oriol grumbled.
"You are no fun."
Behind them, Aina had her hand over her face. She was shaking her head slowly, her eyes closed, the gesture of a daughter who had witnessed this exact version of her father approximately four hundred times in her life.
Olivia was standing to the side laughing freely, both hands over her mouth, watching Oriol get shepherded toward his car by a woman half his width.
"Bye, Uncle."
Mateo raised one hand, waving.
Oriol looked back with the face of a man who had been defeated by logistics.
"Bye, Mateo."
He turned to Aina.
"Bye, princess."
Aina waved, small, a single hand. "Bye, Dad."
He looked at Olivia.
"Bye."
She was still smiling. "Bye, Mr Cerdà."
He started the car. He let the window down. He leaned out and pointed at Mateo.
"Great game, kid. You were on fire."
He flexed his right arm.
"Visca Barça."
Mateo bent forward laughing.
"Ha — Visca Barça — haha."
He was still laughing as he waved, watching his uncle pull out of the parking space and toward the exit, Isabella's hand dropping from the car door as it moved.
Mateo turned back around, still laughing, still shaking his head.
"Uncle Oriol is always a mood."
He looked at his dad.
David King was standing a few feet back, slightly separate from the others, just watching. His hands were in his jacket pockets. His face had the expression it had worn since the final whistle, the look that had not changed through the crowd of the tunnel and the brief reunion on the pitch and the walk to the cars.
Undimmed pride. Sitting in his dark blue eyes.
Mateo saw it.
His laughter settled slightly.
"What happened?"
David smiled but did not move.
"Why are you staring at me like that?"
"Nothing."
David's voice. Soft.
"You have really grown up, haven't you."
Mateo tilted his head.
"What has gotten into you now?"
David laughed. He looked away for a second. He brought his hand up briefly and the gesture was small enough that if you were not watching closely you might have missed it, the knuckle going to the corner of his eye for the half-second required.
"Nothing. Nothing."
"Do not go soft on me now."
David laughed again. The laughter and the emotion sharing the same space in his chest, both of them real.
To the side, Isabella stood with Aina and Olivia. All three of them watching. None of them talking. The small respectful quiet of people witnessing a moment between two other people and knowing it was not theirs to interrupt.
David raised his hand.
He had started to move it forward, the instinct of a man who wanted to close the distance, and then he stopped, and then he did something smaller but not lesser. He reached out and put his hand over Mateo's shoulder. He squeezed. His fingers pressed through the fabric of the jacket and the hand held for a moment with the full weight of everything the night had been.
His voice came out slightly choked.
"Nothing, son."
The word sat in the air between them.
A few minutes later, with the goodbyes beginning, David turned to Isabella.
"Okay. We should start heading out."
Isabella looked at Mateo.
"You sure you do not need a ride? We do not mind."
Mateo waved his hand.
"No, no. You guys do not need to stress. We have a ride."
"Okay then."
She turned. She looked at Aina.
"I will call you later, Maria."
"No problem, Aunt Isabella."
Isabella turned to Olivia.
"I hope you are enjoying your stay."
"It has been really great, ma. Really."
Isabella tilted her head.
"And what about my son. I hope he has been a good host to you girls."
Mateo groaned from behind her.
"Momm."
Isabella continued without turning.
"If he is giving you girls any trouble, just have Aina call me. I raised him to be respectful to girls."
"Mommmm."
Olivia was laughing.
"Everything has been fine, ma. He has been very, very respectful."
She looked at Mateo as she said it. The warmth in her face doing everything that the formal words were not quite doing. The slight emphasis on the second "very" landing somewhere between a compliment and a tease.
Mateo held her look for a half-second.
He turned to his mother.
"Okay. Bye, you guys."
Isabella smiled. She moved through the small group, squeezing Aina's arm, touching Olivia's shoulder, the warmth of a woman who had meant every word she had said. She reached her husband.
Mateo looked at his dad one more time.
"Bye, Dad."
David looked at him.
"Bye, son."
Two words carrying what neither of them was going to say out loud in a car park in Barcelona with people around. Both of them knowing it.
They stepped back.
The car pulled away slowly.
Mateo stood at the edge of the parking space, waving, Olivia and Aina flanking him on either side and waving too, the three of them standing there as the headlights swept past.
Olivia watched the car round the bend toward the exit.
"Your family honestly reminds me of a more functional version of Modern Family."
She was already laughing as she said it.
Aina sighed.
"Girl, please."
Mateo looked at them.
"Modern Family?"
He said it with the blank expression of someone who had heard the title of the show and retained nothing further.
Olivia turned to stare at him.
"Wait. You do not know Modern Family?"
Mateo shrugged.
"Wow. Uncultured much."
Mateo gave her a look.
Then, for reasons he could not fully explain, he put one hand on his hip.
He put the other hand on his hip.
He said, in a tone that had no business coming out of him:
"What, girl, please."
The silence that followed lasted approximately one full second.
Aina was looking at him. Her face was serious. Deeply serious. The corners of her mouth were losing the argument.
Mateo looked down at his own hands.
He removed them from his hips. Slowly. He felt cold water pouring over him that moment
What the fuck did i just do
Why the fuck did I just do that
Kill me now.
He coughed.
Olivia had both hands over her mouth. Her eyes were going.
Aina looked at him.
"Never do that again."
Mateo straightened.
"Yeah." (P.s I died writing this btw)
He said it in the voice of a man, no, at this stage right now he didn't have his man card. Women could really make you start acting stupid.
All three of them broke at the same time.
The laughter came out of all of them together, the specific uncontrolled laughter of three teenagers at the end of a long and good night, standing in a parking lot outside the Camp Nou with the sounds of the city's celebration still carrying over the walls.
Inside the car, David had his eyes on the exit road but his mirror angled slightly wrong, just enough to catch the edge of the space they had left.
He could see them. Three shapes. One of them was Mateo. Mateo's head thrown back. His hands on his knees. Laughing at something the distance did not let David hear.
He felt the touch on his hand.
Isabella's fingers, finding his on the gear stick, pressing lightly.
He turned.
She was looking at him. in his eyes she looked exactly like how the first day he met her, her beautiful hazel eyes shining She was Beautiful. She just looked at him. The warmth in her face full and open, the same face he had been looking at for decades, unchanged.
David covered her hand with his.
He looked back at the road.
He breathed.
"I am glad I came today."
Isabella smiled.
"Me too."
He looked back at the mirror one more time. The figures were smaller now, receding as the car moved toward the gate. Mateo's laugh still visible in the shape of him even from here, even at this distance.
David King looked at his son.
He looked back at the road.
He drove.
A/N
If you want to read chapters ahead with uploads and to support me subscribe to my Patreon below There is also a picture of how mateo looks like posted and later there would be votes and all on the site some you wont need to pay to vote but you can if you want to support me thanks
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