Winning the Ballon d'Or changed everything.
Not the football—Ethan was still the same player, still thought three moves ahead, still scored goals with ruthless efficiency. But everything around the football transformed overnight.
The morning after the ceremony in Paris, Ethan woke up in his Barcelona apartment to discover his Instagram had gained 4.3 million new followers. His phone had 247 unread messages. News outlets from 89 countries had requested interviews.
He was no longer just a footballer. He was a global icon.
"You okay?" His girlfriend, Sofia Martínez, asked over breakfast. They'd been dating for eight months—she was a Spanish journalist he'd met during a post-match interview. Smart, independent, kept him grounded.
"Overwhelmed," Ethan admitted, scrolling through endless congratulatory messages. "Look at this—Pelé sent me a message. Pelé. And Maradona's family. And Zidane."
"You earned it," Sofia said, squeezing his hand. "But remember what your father always says—"
"Character keeps doors open," Ethan finished. "I know. I won't let this change me."
But even as he said it, he wondered: How could it not change him? At twenty-two, he'd won two Champions Leagues, a World Cup, multiple domestic titles, and now the Ballon d'Or. He was being mentioned in the same breath as Messi, Ronaldo, Pelé, Maradona.
The pressure to maintain that level was crushing.
December 4, 2021 - Training Ground
At Barcelona's training facility, the atmosphere was celebratory but professional. His teammates had organized a surprise party the day after his return—cake shaped like the Ballon d'Or, champagne, jokes about him being too good for them now.
But once training started, it was business as usual.
"Ballon d'Or winner or not, you're still losing this drill," Pedri said with a grin during a possession exercise.
"We'll see about that," Ethan replied, nutmegging him immediately.
Coach Koeman pulled him aside after training. "How are you handling it? The attention?"
"Trying to stay focused. Keep my head down. Work hard."
"Good. Because now you have a target on your back. Every defender in Europe will want to prove themselves against you. Every team will study you obsessively. They know your moves, your preferences, your weaknesses."
"I don't have weaknesses," Ethan said with a slight smile.
Koeman laughed. "There's the confidence I like. But seriously—you need to evolve. Add new dimensions to your game. Surprise people. Otherwise they'll figure you out."
Ethan nodded. The advice was sound. He'd been thinking the same thing.
That evening, he stayed late at the training ground, working on new skills. Left-foot finishes from angles he normally avoided. Headers from different positions. Long-range shots with his weaker foot.
If defenders expected the elastico, he'd hit them with something else. If they thought they knew his game, he'd show them they were wrong.
Three moves ahead. Always adapting. Always evolving.
December 11, 2021 - La Liga Matchday 17Barcelona vs Osasuna - Camp Nou
The match seemed routine on paper. Barcelona, top of the table with 43 points from 16 matches, hosting mid-table Osasuna.
But Osasuna came with a clear plan: stop Loki at all costs.
They assigned two defenders to shadow him constantly. Every time he received the ball, two players converged. Every run he made, someone tracked him. It was suffocating.
For sixty-three minutes, the strategy worked. Barcelona dominated possession—71%—but couldn't break through. Osasuna's defensive discipline was immaculate.
0-0. Growing frustration at Camp Nou. Whistles from impatient fans.
Then Ethan remembered Koeman's words: Evolve. Surprise them.
In the sixty-fourth minute, instead of receiving the ball to feet as usual, he made a run behind the defense—something he rarely did. Pedri, reading his intent instantly, played a perfect through ball.
Ethan was one-on-one with the goalkeeper. But instead of his usual precise low finish, he chipped it.
The ball floated over the advancing goalkeeper, dropped under the crossbar, and nestled into the net.
1-0.
Camp Nou erupted. Ethan had done something unexpected—and it worked.
In the seventy-ninth minute, he evolved again. Receiving the ball thirty meters from goal, with two defenders closing him down, he didn't try his trademark elastico. Instead, he played a simple one-two with Griezmann and continued his run.
The defenders, expecting tricks, were caught off-guard by the simplicity. Griezmann's return pass split them. Ethan collected it and finished with his right foot—his weaker foot—into the bottom corner.
2-0.
Two goals. Two new approaches. Evolution in real-time.
After the match, journalists asked about his different playing style.
"Football is chess," Ethan explained. "If your opponent knows your moves, you lose. I have to keep evolving, keep surprising defenses. That's how you stay at the top."
December 18 - Personal Life
The increased attention came with downsides. Paparazzi now followed Ethan and Sofia constantly. Privacy became a luxury.
"I can't even go to the grocery store without someone taking photos," Sofia complained one evening. They were having dinner at Ethan's apartment—one of the few places they could be alone.
"I'm sorry," Ethan said genuinely. "This is my fault. The Ballon d'Or made everything more intense."
"It's not your fault. You didn't ask for this." She paused. "But I need to ask—can you handle all of this? The pressure, the scrutiny, the expectations?"
"I have to. This is what I worked for my whole life."
"But at what cost? You barely sleep. You're at the training ground twelve hours a day. When was the last time you just... relaxed?"
Ethan didn't have an answer. She was right. Since winning the Ballon d'Or, he'd been pushing himself even harder, terrified of not living up to the expectations.
"I'm worried about you," Sofia said softly. "You're twenty-two years old. You should be enjoying this. Instead, you look stressed all the time."
"I'll be better," Ethan promised. "After we win the Champions League this season, I'll relax more. Take time off. Enjoy life."
Sofia smiled sadly. "That's what you said after winning La Liga. And after the Copa del Rey. There's always another trophy, another goal, another pressure."
The conversation hung heavy in the air. Ethan knew she was right, but he didn't know how to change. The hunger that drove him to greatness was the same hunger that consumed him.
December 22 - Phone Call with Mbappé
Late one night, unable to sleep, Ethan called his oldest friend.
"Can't sleep either?" Mbappé answered after one ring. "Yeah, me neither. It's weird at the top, isn't it?"
"Very," Ethan admitted. "Everyone expects perfection all the time. One bad match and the media destroys you."
"Tell me about it. I missed that penalty at the Euros and people still bring it up constantly." Mbappé paused. "But you won the Ballon d'Or, brother. That's what we dreamed about as kids in Monaco. You did it."
"We both will. You'll win yours soon."
"Maybe. But right now, you're number one. How does it feel?"
Ethan thought about the question. "Honestly? Terrifying. Because now I have to stay number one. And everyone's trying to take it from me. Including you."
Mbappé laughed. "Of course including me. But that's what makes us better. Competition. Remember when we first met? We pushed each other every single day at Monaco. That made us both great."
"The Princes of Monaco," Ethan said nostalgically.
"Still princes. Just ruling different kingdoms now." Mbappé's tone became serious. "But seriously, Ethan—don't let the pressure consume you. Enjoy this. We're twenty-two years old, millionaires, playing for the biggest clubs in the world. How many people get to live this life?"
"You sound like Sofia."
"Smart woman. You should listen to her." Mbappé paused. "World Cup next year. France. You and me leading the line. Let's win it again and shut everyone up."
"Together," Ethan said.
"Always, brother. Always."
After hanging up, Ethan felt slightly better. Mbappé was right. He needed perspective. Needed to remember why he fell in love with football in the first place.
The joy. The freedom. The pure pleasure of the game.
Somewhere along the way, in the pursuit of greatness, he'd forgotten that.
He made a decision: Tomorrow, after training, he'd go to a public park. Play with kids. Remember the feeling of street football in Bondy. Reconnect with the joy.
December 23 - Parc de la Ciutadella
True to his word, Ethan went to Barcelona's famous park the next evening. He wore a hoodie, sunglasses, tried to look inconspicuous.
A group of kids—maybe eight or nine years old—were playing football on a makeshift pitch. Using jackets as goals. Pure, simple joy.
Ethan watched for a few minutes, smiling. This was football in its purest form.
"Want to play?" one of the kids asked in Spanish, noticing him watching.
"Sure," Ethan replied, removing his sunglasses.
The kid's eyes went wide. "You're... you're Ethan Loki!"
"Shhh," Ethan said with a smile. "Just want to play some football. That okay?"
Within seconds, all the kids were surrounding him. But instead of asking for autographs or photos, they did something better—they passed him a ball.
For the next hour, Ethan played street football. No tactics. No pressure. No expectations. Just pure, joyful football.
He nutmegged one kid, who laughed hysterically. He got nutmegged by another, which made him laugh even harder. He scored a ridiculous goal from forty meters that would never work in a professional match but looked incredible here.
Parents gathered to watch, taking videos on their phones. But they respected the moment—keeping their distance, letting Ethan play.
When he finally left, sweaty and grinning, one of the kids asked: "Will you come back?"
"Maybe," Ethan said. "If you promise to keep working on your skills."
"We will! We want to be like you!"
"Don't be like me," Ethan said seriously. "Be better than me. That's how football evolves."
Walking back to his car, Ethan felt lighter than he had in weeks. This was why he played. Not for trophies or awards or fame. For the love of the game. For the joy on those kids' faces.
Sofia had been right. Mbappé had been right. He needed to remember to enjoy this.
The pressure would always be there. The expectations would never go away. But if he lost the joy, none of it mattered.
December 31, 2021 - New Year's Eve
Barcelona had a match on January 2, so wild celebrations were out. But Ethan and Sofia had a quiet dinner at her apartment, reflecting on the incredible year.
"Two thousand twenty-one," Ethan said, raising his glass of sparkling water (no alcohol during the season). "Won La Liga. Won Copa del Rey. Won the Ballon d'Or. Not a bad year."
"And found a girlfriend," Sofia added with a smile.
"Best decision of the year," Ethan said, kissing her.
As midnight approached, they stood on her balcony overlooking Barcelona. The city sparkled with lights. Fireworks began erupting across the skyline.
"What's your resolution for 2022?" Sofia asked.
Ethan thought for a moment. "Win the Champions League with Barcelona. Defend the Ballon d'Or. Win the World Cup with France. And—" he pulled her close "—spend more time with you. Actually enjoy being twenty-two years old."
"That's four resolutions."
"I'm an overachiever."
They kissed as the clock struck midnight. Fireworks exploded overhead. The city celebrated.
Ethan Loki entered 2022 as the best player in the world. Ballon d'Or winner. Barcelona's captain and talisman. But more importantly, he'd reconnected with why he played.
The joy. The passion. The love of the game.
Three moves ahead, he could see it all: Champions League glory. World Cup triumph. More Ballons d'Or.
But first, tomorrow—rest. Recovery. Time with Sofia.
Because greatness required balance. And Ethan Loki was learning to be great both on and off the pitch.
End of Chapter 33