The Next Big Thing
Chapter 138: Meeting your idol

Chapter 138: Meeting your idol

As David stepped into the weight room, a deep, rhythmic grunting sound filled the air. The scent of iron, sweat, and the faint aroma of disinfectant surrounded him. His eyes scanned the room, moving past the racks of dumbbells, squat racks, and high-tech fitness machines until they finally landed on the source of the noise.

There, on one of the treadmills, was Cristiano Ronaldo.

The Portuguese superstar had his headphones on, lost in his own world as he ran at a high speed, sweat glistening on his forehead. His powerful strides and unwavering focus made it clear—this wasn’t just a casual jog. This was a man who had won almost everything in football, yet he still trained like he had everything to prove.

David’s breath hitched.

He wasn’t one to get star-struck easily. In fact, he prided himself on not being one of those overexcited fanboys who lost their composure around famous people. He had always believed that he was supposed to be the one people admired, the one making others stare in awe.

But right now?

Right now, he gave himself a free pass.

’This is Ronaldo. If there’s anyone worth being star-struck over, it’s him.’

David stood frozen for a moment, his mind trying to process the fact that he was mere steps away from one of his biggest idols. The sheer presence of the man was overwhelming.

And then, as if sensing the weight of the stare, Ronaldo’s gaze flicked toward him.

Their eyes met.

For a split second, nothing happened. But then—

"Ah, merda!"

David barely had time to react before he saw the unthinkable—Cristiano Ronaldo, the man known for his impeccable balance and agility, nearly losing his footing on the treadmill. His arms flailed for a brief moment as he stumbled, his body lurching forward.

David instinctively moved toward him, his hand reaching out to help stabilize him. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern flashing across his face.

But before he could get any closer—

"Não me toque!"

Ronaldo’s sharp voice rang out, his Portuguese words slicing through the air as he swung his arms to create distance.

David stopped abruptly, confused.

He didn’t understand Portuguese, but the body language was clear—Ronaldo didn’t want to be touched.

"Sorry, sorry," David said quickly, raising his hands in surrender.

An awkward silence filled the room.

Then, suddenly—

"Rafael! Rafael! Rafael!"

Ronaldo’s voice boomed through the weight room as he called out a name, his tone filled with frustration.

David shifted awkwardly on his feet, still processing what had just happened. He wasn’t sure whether he had just witnessed a rare human moment from one of the greatest footballers of all time or if he had somehow made things worse.

Within seconds, the man from earlier—the one who had tried to stop him from entering—rushed into the room.

Ronaldo wasted no time, immediately launching into rapid Portuguese.

"O que é isso? Eu te disse para não deixar ninguém entrar! Por que você deixou essa criança entrar? Se eu for contaminado, o que você vai fazer? Como pode ser tão descuidado?"

("What’s this? I told you not to let anyone in! Why did you let this kid through? If I get contaminated, what will you do? How could you be so careless?")

His voice was sharp, demanding, filled with the same intensity he carried on the pitch.

David had no idea what was being said, but from the way Ronaldo’s brows were furrowed and how his arms moved as he spoke, it was clear—he wasn’t happy.

The staff member, Rafael, quickly responded in equally fast Portuguese, his words tumbling out in defense.

"Sim, mas ele é um jogador, eu não consegui impedi-lo de entrar!"

("Yes, but he’s a player—I couldn’t stop him from coming in!")

At that, Ronaldo’s brows lifted slightly, his initial frustration momentarily replaced by surprise.

"Que craque, esse menino!"

("What a player this kid is!")

David blinked. He still didn’t understand the words, but he definitely caught the way Ronaldo looked at him—properly looked at him for the first time. There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, a shift in his demeanor.

Rafael nodded in agreement. "Sim, ele é!"

("Yes, he is!")

Even though David still felt slightly awkward, a small part of him was starting to feel better about the situation. Maybe he hadn’t just barged in like some random intruder after all.

But Ronaldo wasn’t done. He refocused on Rafael, his voice still firm.

"Mesmo assim, eu te disse para não deixar ninguém do time entrar. Ele já foi testado?"

("Even so, I told you not to let anyone from the team enter! Has he been tested?")

David didn’t need to understand Portuguese to know where this was going.

Rafael, ever professional, answered immediately.

"Sim, ele foi. Ele veio mais cedo, mas eu o expulsei antes de ele voltar. Agora, ele já foi liberado pelos seus médicos."

("Yes, he has. He came earlier, but I chased him out before he returned. Now, he’s already been cleared by your doctors.")

Ronaldo’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing the information. Then, after a moment, he gave a small nod.

"Então é assim?"

("Oh? Is that so?")

Rafael confirmed it again. "Sim."

("Yes.")

Ronaldo exhaled, his tension easing.

"Ah, tudo bem então. Desculpe por isso. Continue com seu trabalho e certifique-se de que qualquer pessoa que entrar aqui já tenha sido liberada. Não posso correr o risco de ser infectado."

("Oh, okay then. Sorry about earlier. Just make sure anyone coming in here is already cleared—I can’t risk getting infected.")

Rafael gave a respectful nod.

"Beleza, chefe, sem problema."

("Okay, boss. No problem.")

David stood there, utterly confused. ’What the fuck are they talking about?’ he thought, his earlier awe fading slightly. The situation had taken a bizarre turn, and he couldn’t quite grasp what was happening. The rapid exchange in Portuguese between Ronaldo and the other man had left him feeling like an outsider.

As he noticed their conversation winding down, he decided to interject before things got even weirder.

"Hi, I’m David Jones," he said, his voice cutting through the tension. He was sure if both of them spoke English, so he figured he might as well introduce himself directly.

Both men turned their heads toward him. The man who had come in earlier simply nodded before stepping out of the room, leaving David alone with Ronaldo. The football legend stared at him for a moment before breaking into a smile.

"Hi, David. I’m Ronaldo," he said, his heavily accented English making the words sound even more surreal to David.

David grinned, feeling a fresh surge of excitement. Without hesitation, he extended his hand for a handshake.

"Yeah, man, I know! I watched you play when I was a kid. You were one of the reasons I fell in love with the sport! I still remember your Champions League final against Chelsea like it was yesterday! i was 4 back then and i remember it all " David said, his voice rising with excitement. The awe that had briefly faded came rushing back in full force.

Ronaldo laughed as he took David’s hand, shaking it firmly. "Oh, so you’re my fan! Good, good," he said, clearly amused. He then continued, "I hear you are a player at United too. What position do you play?"

David’s chest swelled with pride at the question. "I mostly play right wing, but I can play CAM too," he said, then added with a chuckle, "Honestly, just being here, knowing I’ll get to share the pitch with you—it’s insane. I can’t wait. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to give you lots of passes out there!"

Ronaldo let out a booming laugh, clearly entertained. "HA HA HA! You’re very funny, kid. That’s nice, but don’t forget to score for yourself. Nothing beats goals."

David nodded eagerly. "I know, but since you came back to retire, I have to make sure you go out with a bang. As a fan of yours, it’s my obligation," he said, beaming. "Plus, assisting a legend like you? That’s way better than scoring a goal!" He laughed, not noticing the subtle shift in Ronaldo’s expression.

The laughter disappeared from Ronaldo’s face almost instantly. His features became unreadable, his voice losing all warmth as he responded flatly, "That’s nice, kid."

David didn’t pick up on the change in mood. He was still caught up in the excitement of the moment. "Okay then, I want to go back to training," Ronaldo added, his tone dismissive.

David, still oblivious, grinned. "Ooo, yeah, me too! What do you want to do? Is it the treadmill? I can hop on too. I actually wanted to ask you some questions—things I’ve been dying to know!"

Ronaldo barely spared him a glance before responding, "Oh... about that. I like training alone, so..." His tone made it clear there was no room for argument.

David felt a pang of embarrassment settle in his chest. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, trying to play it off. "Oooh, yeah, yeah, me too. No problem then. It was nice to meet you," he said, extending his hand for another handshake.

But this time, Ronaldo didn’t reciprocate. Instead, he simply grunted, turned away, and put his headset back on before resuming his workout as if David were no longer there.

David stood frozen for a moment, his outstretched hand hovering in the air before he quickly dropped it, rubbing his forehead as if trying to wipe away the embarrassment.

"Yeah... me too. I’m going," he muttered to himself before heading to another part of the room.

He grabbed a mat, laying it out as he prepared to stretch before starting his workout. As he glanced toward Ronaldo, he noticed the Portuguese superstar applying lotion to his hands, rubbing it in carefully.

David just nodded slightly to himself and turned away, refocusing on his own workout.