Chapter Text
Drawing had always been a last resort, something to do when he was really, really bored, but now that he could produce (for his unartistic eye) masterpieces ten times faster than the old Karlsruher SC could draw a stick figure, he felt… torn.
He hated drawing his opponents; he wanted to fucking win and he wanted promotion so bad, but a part of him, that little devil in everyone’s heart, told him that he was good, he was great, and he should keep drawing in every sense of the word.
“Karlsruhe!” shouted the coach, and the Baden club jolted, dropping his sketchbook and pencil. “Y-yes?!” he half-cried, gathering his silly guilty pleasure inside his backpack before running, sprinting as fast as his feet allowed to the training field, “what’s it?!”
“Stop drawing,” Markus said sternly, “someone wants to see you.”
Karlsruhe raised an eyebrow. “Hertha?”
His head coach chuckled. “No,” he said, “AS Roma.”
The personification frowned. What the hell was a Europa League contender wanted from a German second division club?
As if reading his mind, Kauczinki replied, causing Karlsruhe’s jaw - and his backpack - to drop. “He said something about drawing lessons…”
“Drawing?” Karlsruhe repeated. “Is that supposed to be an insult or what?” He didn’t wait for Kaucze’s answer, though, he just strode to the training ground’s entrance… to see a tall man with golden-brown hair, red eyes and handsomely sun-kissed skin.
“You must be Karlsruher SC!” the uninvited guest exclaimed in a heavily-accented English, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you!”