// LAMINE YAMAL //

The post had gone up less than an hour ago, and your phone had already become practically unusable.

Seven photos. Your first day as a Barcelona Femeni player.

The first photo had been Pere Romeu introducing you at the press conference, one hand resting on the table as he spoke about your arrival and everything you could bring to the squad. The second had shown you answering questions from reporters, trying to look composed while cameras flashed around you. The remaining photos had been from your first moments in the new kit—standing on the pitch beneath the Barcelona crest, holding the jersey, smiling for the cameras, and getting your first touches on the ball as a Barça player.

Your caption had been honest, nothing overly polished:

“It’s hard to put into words how much this moment means to me. I’ll always be grateful to Gotham, my teammates, my coaches, and everyone who supported me and helped me grow into the player I am today. Saying goodbye wasn’t easy, but I knew this was an opportunity I couldn’t turn down. I’m incredibly excited for what’s ahead and grateful to Barça for believing in me. I’ll give everything I have to this club and hopefully make everyone proud. Visca el Barça!”

The response had been immediate. Gotham fans had filled the comments with messages about how much they were going to miss you, while your former teammates had congratulated you, some sincerely, some dramatically, and a few joking that you better come back and visit. Barcelona supporters had welcomed you with open arms, already debating what you would bring to the team, while others were more skeptical about whether an American striker could make the jump to European football.

You'd expected all of it.

What you hadn't expected was to see Lamine Yamal among the comments.

You and Lamine had known of each other for a while. Two young footballers from completely different sides of the world who had somehow ended up following the same path. You'd watched his matches, he'd watched yours, and you'd followed each other on Instagram for ages, occasionally liking each other's posts. You'd even crossed paths at a handful of games when schedules had allowed it.

Nothing had ever been defined. There had never been a confession or an actual conversation about what either of you felt. Just mutual admiration.

At least, that was the convenient explanation.

Then his verified account appeared beneath your post.

@lamineyamal: Always knew you’d make it here.

Six words.

It should have been harmless. A compliment from another footballer. Someone recognizing your talent and acknowledging that Barcelona had always seemed like a possible destination for you.

Except the wording made it sound like he'd been waiting for this.

Not welcome to Barça.

Not congrats.

Not even good luck.

Always knew.

Like he'd been watching your career closely enough to know exactly where it was headed.

And apparently, thousands of people had the same thought.

@cule4life: “Always knew” is a very interesting choice of words.

@barcaaddict: How did you know before the rest of us?

@footyfanatic: Why does this sound like he was waiting for her to get here?

@viscabarca: None of his teammates have commented yet but Lamine is already here.

@soccercentral: He could've just said welcome. I'm suspicious.

@barcagirl: The confidence in “you'd make it here” is killing me.

@footballobsessed: Okay, what's the lore between these two?

@culeforever: Someone check how long they've been following each other.

@uswntwatcher: US fans have noticed these two interacting for a while.

@futbolfan23: He has definitely watched her play more than once.

@barca1899: This comment feels like it has backstory.

@footballgirlie: “Always knew you'd make it here” sounds a little too personal.

@championsleaguefan: Lamine has been waiting for his favorite American striker to arrive.

@barcafan4life: Why does he sound so proud of her already?

You'd barely made it through the replies when your phone buzzed again.

This time, it wasn't another comment.

Lamine Yamal had sent you a message.

You opened the DM.

Lamine: So you finally made it.

A second message appeared after a moment.

Lamine: I was starting to think you were going to make me wait forever.

You stared at the screen, suddenly wondering how long he'd actually been waiting for you to arrive.

Whatever the two of you had been calling it before, it was getting harder to pass it off as nothing more than football.