You

The roar of the Allianz Arena was a physical weight, a rhythmic thrum that Mi could feel in the soles of her sneakers. She sat in the lower tier, her petite frame almost swallowed by the oversized hoodie she wore to remain inconspicuous. With her curly brown hair tucked under a baseball cap, she looked like any other dedicated supporter, but her eyes never left the number 42 darting across the emerald pitch.

Jamal was in his element. Every time he touched the ball, the air seemed to crackle with electricity. To the world, he was the "Bambi" of Bayern Munich, a generational talent. To Mi, he was the boy who stole the covers at night and had a laugh that sounded like pure sunlight. Keeping their relationship secret was a mutual decision, a way to protect the fragile, beautiful thing they were building before the vultures of the press could pick at it.

A shadow fell over her just as the halftime whistle blew.

"Mi? Is that actually you?"

The voice was familiar, a ghost from a past life. Mi turned, her breath catching in her throat as she looked up into a face she hadn't seen in over a year. It was Lukas. He was as tall as she remembered, his blonde hair styled perfectly, looking every bit the successful architecture student he had always aspired to be.

"Lukas," she managed, her voice small. "What are you doing here?"

"My cousin had an extra ticket," he said, flashing a grin that used to make her heart flutter but now only stirred a sense of mild apprehension. He gestured to the empty seat beside her. "Mind if I join you? The guy who was here went to the concessions and said he wasn't coming back for the second half."

Mi hesitated. Their breakup hadn't been a tragedy; it had been a slow fading out, a mutual realization that they were heading in different directions. There was no bitterness, no dramatic door-slamming. Because of that, she couldn't find a cold enough reason to tell him to go away.

"Sure," she said softly.

The second half was a blur. Jamal was playing brilliantly, but Mi found it hard to focus. Lukas was a talker, and he seemed genuinely amused by the coincidence of finding her there. He chatted about his internship, his family, and asked her about her work, leaning in close to be heard over the chants of the Ultras. From the pitch, a player might see two people huddled together, looking for all the world like a couple sharing a private moment.

As the final whistle blew and Bayern secured a 2-0 victory, the crowd erupted. Mi stood up, ready to head toward the player’s exit where she usually caught a glimpse of Jamal before he headed to the locker rooms.

"Hey, Mi," Lukas said, catching her elbow gently. "It’s been so long. I feel like we only scratched the surface. Why don’t we grab dinner? There’s a quiet Italian place just a few blocks away. My treat. For old times' sake?"

Mi looked at her phone. She knew Jamal would be tied up with post-match recovery and interviews for at least an hour. The thought of sitting alone in her apartment, waiting for a secret text, suddenly felt lonelier than usual. Lukas was safe. Lukas was familiar.

"Okay," she said, a knot of nerves tightening in her stomach. "Just dinner."

She pulled out her phone and typed a quick message to Jamal: Hey, something came up and I had to leave early. Can't wait for you tonight. So proud of the win! Speak soon x.

---

In the bowels of the stadium, the adrenaline was still humming through Jamal’s veins. He had played a great game, but his eyes had constantly drifted to the section where Mi usually sat. He’d seen her, but he’d also seen the man. The tall man who seemed to be whispering in her ear, the man whose presence made her look smaller than usual.

As he was pulling his jersey over his head, one of the stadium security guards, a man named Stefan who had occasionally helped Mi slip in and out of the private areas, walked past.

"Rough luck, Jamal," Stefan said, offering a sympathetic shrug.

Jamal frowned, wiping sweat from his forehead. "What do you mean? We won."

"No, I mean your girl," Stefan said, lowering his voice. "I saw her leaving the stands with that tall bloke. They looked pretty cozy. She seemed in a hurry to get out of here with him."

The air in the locker room suddenly felt thin. Jamal’s grip tightened on his towel. He didn't say a word, but the warmth of the victory evaporated instantly, replaced by a cold, biting jealousy he didn't know he was capable of feeling.

---

The next morning, the sun was barely over the horizon when a frantic knocking sounded at Mi’s door. She stumbled out of bed, her curls a wild mess, and opened the door to find Jamal standing there. He was still in his club tracksuit, his expression uncharacteristically dark.

"Jamal? What are you doing here so early?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

He didn't wait for an invitation. He stepped into the apartment, his presence filling the small space. "Who was he, Mi?"

Mi froze. "Who was who?"

"Don't do that," Jamal snapped, his voice cracking with a mixture of anger and hurt. "The guy at the game. The guy you left with. The reason you couldn't wait for me."

"That was Lukas, my ex," Mi said, her own temper beginning to flare at his tone. "We ran into each other by accident. We just went to dinner to catch up. It wasn't a big deal."

"A dinner? You ditched me for a dinner with your ex-boyfriend?" Jamal paced the length of her small rug. "I’m out there playing, looking for you in the crowd, and you’re making plans with him? People saw you, Mi. The staff saw you!"

"It was just dinner, Jamal! Nothing happened!" she shouted back. "You’re the one who wanted to keep us a secret! I’m sitting there alone every week, hiding under a hat so no one sees me with you. Lukas was just... he was someone I didn't have to hide from."

Jamal stopped pacing and looked at her, his eyes cold. "If you miss him that much, maybe you should have stayed at dinner."

"Maybe I should have!" Mi yelled, the words out before she could stop them. "Maybe we need a break, Jamal. This—this hiding and the jealousy—it’s too much."

The silence that followed was deafening. Jamal stared at her, his jaw set tight. He looked like he wanted to say a thousand things, but instead, he just nodded once.

"Fine," he said quietly. "Have your break."

He turned and walked out, the slam of the door echoing through the apartment and deep into Mi’s chest.

---

Four days passed. They were the longest four days of Mi’s life.

She couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the hurt in Jamal’s expression. She stopped eating properly, her appetite vanished along with her peace of mind. She spent her hours refreshing sports news, watching clips of his interviews where he looked uncharacteristically subdued, his usual spark dimmed.

She felt miserable. The realization hit her that while the secrecy was hard, losing him was unbearable. Lukas meant nothing; he was a ghost of a girl she wasn't anymore. Jamal was her present and her future.

On the fifth day, unable to take the hollow ache in her heart any longer, she drove to his apartment. She didn't call first. She just hoped he was there.

When he opened the door, he looked just as bad as she felt. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair, usually so neat, was messy. He looked at her, his gaze traveling over her pale face and the way her clothes seemed to hang off her small frame.

"Mi," he breathed.

"I’m so sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Jamal, I’m so, so sorry. I was stupid and I was lonely, but it was just dinner. He’s nothing to me. You’re everything. Please, I can’t do this. I can't be away from you."

Tears began to track down her cheeks. She looked small and broken, standing in the hallway.

Jamal didn't hesitate. He reached out, grabbing her waist and pulling her firmly into his chest. He buried his face in her neck, breathing her in, his arms wrapping around her like a vice.

"I missed you so much," he muttered against her skin, his voice thick with emotion. "I hated every second of it. I was so angry, Mi, but I was mostly just scared. Scared that he could give you a life I can't yet. A normal life."

Mi pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her hands framing his face. "I don't want a normal life. I want your life. I don't care about the secrets or the hiding, as long as I have you when the lights go down."

Jamal leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. "No more breaks. Ever."

"Ever," she promised.

He kissed her then, a desperate, lingering kiss that tasted of forgiveness and relief. The world outside could keep its cameras and its rumors; in the quiet of his apartment, the secret was safe, and for the first time in days, they both could finally breathe again.