God Of football-Chapter 398: Whispers Of Fame

Micah's eyes twinkled.

"Okay, last one before I hand it over to the fans — I want you both to pick a celebrity whose number you've got in your contacts. And we'll see who's got the best connection."

"Alright, easy," Saka said, pulling out his phone and swiping through his contacts.

"I've got Drake. Pretty sure that tops everyone."

Micah whistled. "I mean, that's a flex. You win for now."

Saka shrugged, looking pleased with himself.

"Not bad for a London boy."

"Okay, okay, your turn, Izan," Micah said, looking at him expectantly.

Izan hesitated, pulling out his phone and swiping through his contacts.

"Man, this is a tough one. I've got Jude Bellingham — we're good friends... but then I also have LeBron James, who gave me his number after that match in LA."

(Sunshine Lebron)

The room went quiet for a moment as everyone waited.

"Come on, Izan," Micah teased, "you're not about to pick Bellingham over LeBron, are you?"

Izan laughed nervously, looking at the phone. "It's just... LeBron's LeBron, you know? But Jude's my guy, too."

"Make the call, bro," Saka called out, grinning. "You can't keep everyone in suspense."

Finally, Izan sighed and looked up with a sheepish grin.

"Alright, alright. I'm going with LeBron. It's LeBron."

The room erupted in laughter and cheers as Micah clapped his hands.

"That's the right choice. You're only gonna get that number once, bruv!"

Izan laughed along, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

"What can I say? Can't turn down a King."

Micah raised his hands, nodding in approval. "Fair play, fair play. We've got two legends in the making on this stage today."

The Q&A continued with more playful banter, but the tone of the room had shifted to something more relaxed, filled with camaraderie and laughter.

For a brief moment, the tension of the season and the weight of the campaign ahead seemed to disappear.

There was just the fun of being teammates, of making memories off the pitch as much as on it.

As the session wrapped up, Micah gave a final grin to the audience.

"Alright, that's all for today, folks. Big thanks to Saka and Izan for taking part — and a little shout-out to Henry for keeping the love going. See you on the next one!"

The applause was loud, and the players stood to disperse, the buzz of excitement and teasing carrying them out of the media lounge.

Izan, still basking in the lightness of the moment, clapped Saka on the back.

"Not bad, mate. But I'm taking your Drake number next time."

Saka shook his head, laughing. "Only if you can get through my manager first."

"Challenge accepted," Izan shot back, grinning as they headed toward the exit.

.....

The car pulled up just outside the King's College area, a quiet hum of traffic in the background as the driver eased to a stop by the curb.

Izan, done with training, was already leaning forward slightly, spotting Olivia through the window before the car had even fully stopped.

She was waiting under the shade of a wide tree just near the entrance, her auburn hair catching flecks of sunlight, arms crossed loosely as she licked what looked suspiciously like her second iced cream of the.

He stepped out with a grin.

"You're early," he called out, shutting the door behind him as the driver gave a silent nod and stayed put.

Olivia turned, eyes lighting up.

"You're late."

He raised a brow. "You said three."

"And it's three-oh-four," she replied with mock seriousness, offering him the last lick of her cream. (That felt so wrong on many levels.)

"Penalty: you carry my bag."

Izan took it without protest, slinging the small tote over his shoulder with a dramatic sigh.

"Wow. Oppression. You give someone one day in London and suddenly they go full local."

"You love it," Olivia said, stepping close and linking her arm through his like they'd done this a hundred times before.

"Besides, I've officially decided I could live here. It's chaotic and kind of smells weird in places, but the buildings are gorgeous."

"Kind of like you," Izan muttered, just loud enough.

She bumped him with her shoulder. "Flattery won't get you out of carrying my bag."

As they walked through the entrance to campus, a few students glanced their way — not in any aggressive, swarming kind of way, but with that cautious curiosity that comes with half-recognition.

One guy slowed down on his bike as he passed, eyebrows drawn together in confusion before continuing.

Two girls near the steps to the library paused mid-conversation.

One of them whispered something, eyes darting discreetly toward Izan.

The other peeked, trying not to stare too obviously.

"I swear that's him," one murmured as they passed.

"The Spain kid, right?"

"I think so. He's taller than I thought."

Olivia caught it too but didn't say anything — just squeezed his arm a little tighter and kept walking, tossing a wink up at him.

"Fame looks good on you," she teased under her breath.

"I just wanna look at Ivy and overpriced sandwiches," Izan replied, only slightly self-conscious.

"Not feel like I'm on trial."

"Relax. Half of them are just wondering if you're a TikTok guy."

They ducked into a shaded walkway between two older buildings, the stone warm with late evening sun. Olivia pointed toward the quad.

"I already walked around in the morning, but I saved the good stuff for you," she said.

"There's this chill garden area where everyone pretends to study and a pastry stall that might've changed my life. I nearly cried over a chocolate croissant."

Izan chuckled. "You're a little dramatic, you know that?"

"I prefer the term passionate."

As they crossed a grassy stretch toward a small fountain, another passerby slowed near a bench, phone in hand,

Clearly trying to sneak a photo without being obvious.

Olivia gently pulled Izan's shoulder, so he shifted out of frame, keeping her tone casual.

"You're kind of terrible at going incognito," she said, grinning. "Should've worn sunglasses."

"I'm not that famous."

"Babe," she said, slowing her steps, "You won a Euros at 16. You've even got LeBron James in your contacts. You have most of the young girls around the world in a chokehold."

"Does that include you?" Izan asked Olivia, who was walking slightly ahead.

She turned and winked before telling him to guess.

Izan laughed but said nothing, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

She was right, of course — but somehow, being with her made all of that blur a little.

They paused in front of a quiet little courtyard, shaded and filled with scattered wooden benches.

Olivia sat first, tugging him down beside her.

"Okay, the real question," she said, legs crossed under her, eyes sparkling. "If I actually decide to come… do you think you'd come hang around here with me? Like… sneak in between trainings or something."

He blinked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You wouldn't be embarrassed walking around campus with me getting side-eyed every two minutes?"

"Are you kidding? I'd love that. I'd walk two steps ahead of you and tell people I discovered you. Like a scout."

He laughed, and she leaned into him slightly, her head just brushing his shoulder.

They stayed there for a bit, letting the world slow down.

The background noise of the city faded under the rustle of leaves and soft chatter of students.

...

Olivia stifled a yawn as they stepped out of the last building, stretching her arms above her head as the warm London sun hit her face.

"I'm not bored, I swear," she said, glancing sideways at Izan with a lazy grin.

"Just haven't walked this much in a while."

"I thought you were giving me the tour," Izan teased, his steps in rhythm with hers as they crossed the cobbled pathway.

"I was," she said, slipping her hand through his arm.

"You're just not a very demanding tourist."

"I like my guide," he said, squeezing her hand gently.

Olivia's smile widened, and she leaned her head slightly on his shoulder as they walked toward the street where the black car still waited, parked just beyond the little gates.

The driver stood by, leaning against the side, but straightened up the moment he saw them approaching.

They moved at their own pace, unhurried, content.

A few students passed them by, some glancing briefly, one or two looking again — brows subtly raised, as if trying to confirm a suspicion.

This content is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

No one said anything yet, but it was the kind of quiet recognition Izan had gotten used to lately.

Not quite full-blown fame.

More like a whisper of it.

As they neared the car, Olivia tugged him to a stop.

"Before we go, one photo."

She fished out her phone, held it up, and Izan leaned in without hesitation, their faces squished close as she snapped a few goofy shots, then one proper smiling one.

"For the memories," she said.

"For the wallpaper," he said, already peeking at her screen.

She laughed, slipping it back into her bag. "Maybe."

As Izan stepped around to the other side of the car, a voice called out from behind them.

"Wait—yo, wait up!"