The Red and Black Bar was an inconspicuous old establishment.
Walking down the uneven cobblestone path through the old district, the street was flanked by traditional Roman-style buildings. On one large wall, there was a small door, above which hung a tiny red and black emblem—otherwise, there were no decorations.
"We're here!" Maldini said.
Suker looked around curiously.
Maldini knocked lightly on the door, which quickly opened.
Bob was a chubby man around 40 years old, dressed in a vintage AC Milan jersey, probably from the 90s.
"Hey! Paolo!"Bob greeted Maldini, then turned to Suker. "Hello, Suker!"
Suker nodded, "Hi, bartender!"
Bob paused, then burst into laughter.
"Come in, they're already waiting."
"They?" Suk asked curiously.
Maldini replied, "The leaders of Milan's four grandstands!"
Each of Milan's stands has its own leader. The South Stand is home to the die-hard fans and is the liveliest area, while the other three stands each have their own unique fan culture.
Upon entering the bar, besides Bob, three other men were inside.
Bob introduced them: "Mores, leader of the North Stand!"
"Morin, leader of the East Stand!"
"Bahaman, leader of the West Stand!"
Bahaman looked a bit younger, around 30 or so, and compared to the others, he was the young one.
"Nice to meet you, Suker!"
"Good evening!"
"Suker, have a seat!"
Suker sat down as invited and looked around the bar.
The interior was very simple. On the left was a small window, while the rest of the walls were stone. A stove was blazing, warming the room nicely. Ropes crisscrossed the ceiling, and small flags were hung on them, each with a photo attached.
"These are all our own people," Bob explained, pointing to a corner."There's a picture of you there too."
Suker got up and walked over. Sure enough, he spotted his own photo.
He pointed to the center. "Can't I be hung in the middle?"
Everyone paused for a moment—it was the first time anyone had made such a request.
Suker turned to Maldini, "Boss, where are you?"
Maldini pointed upward—to the very center.
Bob's eyes gleamed, and he joked, "If you lead the team to a great performance, we wouldn't mind putting your picture in the center."
Suker immediately walked over.
"There has to be a standard, right? Like how many goals, how many assists, total goals, or a specific championship. Yours is too vague!"
Bob was a bit stunned and turned to the others, who just blinked back, also unsure.
"Bob's just teasing. The pictures don't move," Maldini said with a bit of annoyance. "If you really want the center spot…"He pointed to his arm. "You'll need the captain's armband."
Forget that! Suker turned away.He had no interest in being Milan's captain—too much of a commitment.But being the second or third captain? That was fine.
"Come on!" Bob raised a glass. "Let's welcome Suker to the Milan family—we're all one now!"
Suker raised his glass immediately."Forza Milan!"
"Forza Milan!"Everyone cheered and drank.
Suker poured himself another and filled everyone's glass.
"Second toast—for Maldini!"
Maldini and the others were slightly surprised, then smiled and raised their glasses.
"For Maldini!"
Another round downed in one go.
Suker poured again.
"For Suker!"
Maldini rolled his eyes. "Enough. Don't drink too much!"
Suker turned to him, "How can we stop here? I'm Milan's offensive commander. If I collapse, the offense collapses too. We must drink to my outstanding performance!"
Everyone looked at Maldini with a smile.
Maldini hesitated, then slowly raised his glass.
Hahahaha!!
Bob and the others burst out laughing.
Suker shouted loudly, "To Suker!"
Everyone echoed, "To Suker!"
Suker was very sociable and quickly blended in with the group.
"Bosnian league is way dirtier than here. If you hesitate a bit, they'll actually go in with studs up! And when they tackle, it's always targeting your legs!"
"No intervention from the referees?"
"Yeah, right—they encourage that kind of challenge!"
"My dribbling style was developed out of necessity. If your touches aren't quick enough, not only will the ball be gone, but you'll get clobbered!"
Bob nodded, "That's dangerous!"
"Exactly. So when I transferred to the Croatian league, Luka and I both felt liberated."
"Luka? You mean Modrić from Manchester United?" Morin asked.
Suker nodded, "Yeah, he's a great midfielder."
Everyone nodded. They'd seen Modrić in action last season and now he was a mainstay at United.
Soon, the topic shifted to off-field stories.
Suker shared some funny tales.
"There was this chubby ball boy who asked me for two jerseys just to impress girls."
Bob blinked. "Ball boy? Chubby?"
Suker nodded, "Name's Justin, I think."
"Justin?!" Bob's voice went up a notch.
Morin burst out laughing, "You mean that Justin?!"
Suker was confused. "What?"
Morin pointed at Bob. "That's his nephew!"
Suker realized suddenly.
Bob sighed, "No wonder that little rascal's been hanging around my house lately—and taking my jerseys. Turns out it's for girls!"
Suker nodded, "The kid's really grow up fast heh. That girl, Rowling, got him dancing on her finger!"
"Ro... Rowlin?"Morin suddenly went silent.
"Yeah, she was once Pirlo's ball girl," Suker added.
Morin was quiet for a moment, then turned to Bob with a furious glare."Where is that damn fat kid?!"
Maldini whispered, "Morin's daughter is Rowling."
Suker understood.
A furious father indeed!
Later that night, Maldini drove Suker home.
They had only drunk a few glasses, so Suker was just tipsy and unaffected.
He had a great time chatting with the grandstand leaders.
They even invited him to run to their respective stands during celebrations.
Still, Suker preferred the South Stand—home of the die-hard fans, louder cheers, better energy.
All in all, a great gathering.
He also got a deeper understanding of the club during the conversation.
Yawn~Suker stretched.
Maldini sat next to him while a driver drove the car.
The driver kept glancing in the rearview mirror at Maldini.
Suker said, "Eyes on the road! I'll get the boss to sign something for you later!"
The driver replied, "Suker, I want yours too!"
"Ha!" Suker laughed, "Aren't you greedy? Then waive the driver's fee!"
"No problem!" The fan gave a thumbs-up.
Suker waved, "Just kidding!"
Around 10 PM, the car arrived at Suker's home.
After signing autographs, Suker got out.
"Take care, boss!"
He waved as the car drove off.
Just as Suker was about to enter his villa, he noticed a car parked nearby—paparazzi.
Suker walked over.
Through the window, two paparazzi were slumped in their seats, fast asleep.
Suker frowned, "Not very professional!"
BANG! BANG!
He smacked the hood, waking them up.
"What's happening?""What happened?!"
They jolted up—Suker was standing in front of their car.
"Sleeping on the job? Wake up and get to work!"
The two glared at Suker as he walked back inside.
As soon as he entered, Kaká stormed up to him.
"Why are you back so late?!"
Suker looked up. "Had a great time chatting."
"You didn't think about the two of us?" Kaká pointed to himself and Zorančić.
The latter scratched his head awkwardly.
"You two?" Suker was confused.
Kaká said, "We haven't eaten yet."
Suker blinked. "You... waited for me to cook?"
Kaká nodded.
Suker kicked Kaká in the rear.
"Scram! Mooching food with such entitlement—go order some pizza!"
Kaká stubbornly refused to leave.
"We waited this long…"
Zorančić added, "Maybe… just something simple?"
Looking at the two of them, Suker finally sighed.
"Macaroni. Take it or leave it!"
Suker walked into the kitchen.
Kaká followed with a grin.
In the end, Suke cooked them both macaroni. After finishing, Kaká left quickly.
Zorančić felt a bit embarrassed and took the initiative to wash the dishes.
Suker went upstairs for a shower and prepared for bed.