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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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And judging by the transport truck currently pulling into the driveway beneath the pale January afternoon sun, there almost certainly was.
Francesco remained standing beside the living room window, phone pressed against his ear, watching the transport truck slowly make its way up the driveway.
The timing was almost suspiciously perfect.
Almost.
Then again, this was Mendes.
The man treated dramatic timing the way world-class strikers treated open goals.
He never missed an opportunity.
Outside, the large transport truck rolled to a stop near the front of the mansion.
Professional.
Clean.
Clearly branded.
The sort of vehicle that immediately announced something expensive was about to happen.
Francesco shook his head.
"You really arranged this."
Mendes sounded pleased with himself.
"Of course I did."
"I should have known."
"You absolutely should have."
Francesco laughed.
"Thank you."
There was a brief pause.
A rare genuine moment.
"You earned it," Mendes replied.
"No matter what anyone says, winning the Ballon d'Or once is special."
"Winning it twice?"
"Back-to-back?"
"That doesn't happen by accident."
Francesco glanced back toward the truck.
The driver's door had already opened.
Several BMW representatives were climbing out.
"Looks like they're here."
"Go enjoy your present."
"I'll call you later."
"Take pictures."
"Mendes."
"Take pictures."
The line disconnected.
Francesco smiled.
Some things never changed.
He placed the phone into his pocket and headed toward the front door.
Behind him, Cheddar immediately jumped off the sofa.
The dog had noticed activity.
Important activity.
Potentially exciting activity.
Possibly food-related activity.
Therefore, it required investigation.
By the time Francesco stepped outside, the winter afternoon remained bright and clear.
The sunlight reflected softly across the driveway.
Cold air greeted him again.
Fresh.
Crisp.
Pleasant.
The BMW representatives spotted him immediately.
One of them smiled and extended a hand.
"Mr. Lee."
"Please, Francesco."
The representative laughed.
"Francesco, then."
They shook hands.
"Congratulations."
"Thank you."
"We're honored to be here today."
Another representative was already speaking with the transport driver.
Paperwork was being checked.
Equipment prepared.
Everything looked remarkably organized.
German efficiency in action.
The first representative gestured toward the transport truck.
"I believe you'll like this."
"I hope so."
The man smiled.
"I think that's a safe bet."
Nearby, hydraulic systems began operating.
Mechanical sounds echoed softly across the driveway.
The transport platform slowly started lowering.
Steadily.
Carefully.
Deliberately.
Francesco folded his arms and watched.
Even after years as a professional footballer, there remained something satisfying about seeing a new car arrive.
It didn't matter how successful someone became.
Some things still felt exciting.
This was one of them.
The platform continued descending.
Then finally the vehicle became visible.
At first only partially.
A glimpse of the front bumper.
Then the headlights.
Then the grille.
Then the entire car.
Francesco couldn't help smiling.
The BMW M2 looked absolutely stunning.
Compact.
Aggressive.
Powerful.
Everything about its design suggested performance.
The paint gleamed beneath the winter sunlight.
Every line looked sharp.
Purposeful.
Athletic.
Much like the footballers BMW often chose as ambassadors.
The transport driver carefully guided the vehicle down the ramp.
Slowly.
Professionally.
Every movement measured.
The engine purred softly.
Smooth.
Refined.
Confident.
The sound alone made several nearby staff members smile.
Even Cheddar appeared interested.
Though admittedly he seemed more interested in the people than the car.
The BMW rolled gently onto the driveway.
Then came to a stop.
For a few seconds nobody said anything.
They simply admired it.
Because sometimes there wasn't much else to say.
It was beautiful.
One of the representatives laughed.
"Judging by your face, I think approval has been granted."
Francesco shook his head.
"It's incredible."
The representative nodded.
"We thought you might say that."
Another member of the BMW team approached carrying a folder.
Professional.
Neatly organized.
Official.
"Francesco."
He handed over the folder.
Inside sat the vehicle registration paperwork.
Ownership documents.
Insurance details.
Everything required.
"All the documentation is included."
"Thank you."
Then the man produced something else.
The keys.
Small.
Simple.
Yet somehow capable of generating enormous excitement.
The representative placed them into Francesco's hand.
"On behalf of everyone at BMW, congratulations."
His smile widened.
"Winning the Ballon d'Or is extraordinary."
"Winning it twice in a row is history."
The others nodded in agreement.
"We wanted to recognize that achievement."
Francesco looked down at the keys for a moment.
Then back toward the car.
A second Ballon d'Or.
Back-to-back.
The achievement still felt surreal sometimes.
No matter how many interviews he gave.
No matter how many headlines he saw.
No matter how many people congratulated him.
Some accomplishments never felt completely real.
"Thank you."
The gratitude in his voice was genuine.
"I really appreciate it."
"You've earned it."
The representative extended his hand again.
"Congratulations from all of us."
Francesco shook it warmly.
"Thank you."
Several photographs followed.
Nothing excessive.
Just a few official pictures for BMW's records.
Francesco standing beside the car.
A handshake.
A smile.
The sort of images that would eventually appear somewhere in marketing departments and company newsletters.
Afterward the atmosphere relaxed considerably.
The representatives answered a few questions about the vehicle.
Performance.
Features.
Specifications.
Technology.
The conversation flowed naturally.
Easy.
Comfortable.
Before long, however, the delivery team's work was complete.
Paperwork signed.
Vehicle delivered.
Mission accomplished.
The transport driver began preparing to leave.
Equipment folded away.
Ramps secured.
Checks completed.
The representatives gathered their belongings.
One final round of handshakes followed.
"Enjoy it."
"I definitely will."
"We'll be watching Arsenal this season."
"Hopefully we keep giving you reasons to."
The representative laughed.
"We're counting on it."
A few moments later they climbed back into their vehicles.
Engines started.
Doors closed.
The transport truck slowly pulled away from the mansion.
The BMW representatives followed behind.
Within minutes they disappeared down the road.
Leaving silence behind.
And one brand-new BMW M2 sitting proudly in the driveway.
For a while Francesco simply stood there.
Looking at it.
Admiring it.
The sunlight reflected beautifully across the paintwork.
It looked fast even while standing still.
The sort of car people instinctively turned around to look at.
The sort of car enthusiasts immediately appreciated.
Cheddar eventually wandered over and sniffed one of the wheels.
Apparently conducting another security inspection.
Francesco laughed.
"What do you think?"
Cheddar offered no opinion.
Though his tail continued wagging.
Which Francesco decided counted as approval.
Eventually he pulled out his phone.
Because there was absolutely no chance this wasn't ending up on Instagram.
Not after Mendes specifically ordered him to take pictures.
Not after receiving a gift like this.
And definitely not after winning the Ballon d'Or for a second consecutive year.
The lighting was perfect.
The winter sunlight remained bright without being harsh.
The mansion provided an elegant backdrop.
The BMW itself did most of the work.
Francesco walked around the vehicle several times.
Finding angles.
Taking photos.
Trying different perspectives.
A few close-ups.
A few wider shots.
One with the mansion visible behind it.
Another with Cheddar accidentally wandering into frame.
Which somehow made the picture better.
After several minutes he finally found the one.
Simple.
Clean.
Perfect.
He opened Instagram.
Selected the image.
Looked at it once more.
Then typed a short caption.
No lengthy message.
No dramatic statement.
Just something genuine.
Thank you for the gift ❤️
Then he tagged BMW's official Instagram account.
Simple.
Appreciative.
Exactly right.
He pressed post.
Within seconds the reactions began.
Likes appeared immediately.
Then comments.
Then more likes.
Then far more likes.
The familiar chaos of social media.
Messages from teammates arrived almost instantly.
Walker was first.
Of course he was.
"Can I have it?"
Francesco laughed.
Not even thirty seconds.
A new personal record.
Robertson followed.
"He's got another car. This is getting ridiculous."
Then came comments from supporters.
Congratulations.
Heart emojis.
Fire emojis.
Questions.
Thousands upon thousands of questions.
The usual Instagram experience.
Francesco slipped the phone back into his pocket.
The Instagram post had already taken on a life of its own.
Thousands of likes.
Hundreds of comments.
Messages arriving every few seconds.
Supporters.
Friends.
Teammates.
Former teammates.
Even people he hadn't spoken to in months suddenly seemed very interested in his afternoon.
The internet had noticed the car.
Not that it was difficult to notice.
The BMW M2 sat in the driveway looking like it belonged on the cover of a magazine.
The sunlight continued reflecting beautifully off the paintwork.
Every sharp line seemed designed to attract attention.
Every angle looked aggressive.
Purposeful.
Fast.
Very fast.
For a few moments Francesco simply stood there admiring it.
Then another thought entered his mind.
A completely reasonable thought.
A perfectly logical thought.
A thought that probably would have occurred to anyone in the same situation.
I should drive it.
He stared at the car.
The car stared back.
Well.
As much as a car could stare.
The decision lasted approximately three seconds.
Maybe four.
Then he smiled.
"Yeah."
That seemed like the correct answer.
A very correct answer.
Beside him, Cheddar was still investigating the vehicle.
Mostly by sniffing random sections of it.
The dog had already inspected one wheel, part of the bumper, and something near the driver's side door.
A thorough investigation.
Professional work.
Francesco looked down.
"Want to go for a drive?"
Cheddar immediately looked up.
The tail started moving.
That was either excitement or complete confusion.
Either way, Francesco chose to interpret it positively.
"Good enough."
A few moments later he opened the passenger door.
The interior smelled exactly how a brand-new car should smell.
Fresh.
Clean.
Expensive.
The seats looked immaculate.
The dashboard practically gleamed.
Every surface looked untouched.
Perfect.
Cheddar immediately attempted to climb inside.
Not gracefully.
Not elegantly.
But successfully.
Eventually.
After a brief struggle involving paws, determination, and questionable technique, the dog managed to reach the front passenger seat.
Then sat proudly.
As if he belonged there.
As if BMW had personally designed the vehicle around his comfort.
Francesco laughed.
"You look very pleased with yourself."
Cheddar offered no response.
Though the expression suggested complete satisfaction.
Door closed.
Dog secured.
Mission accomplished.
Francesco walked around to the driver's side.
The key felt surprisingly satisfying in his hand.
New car keys always did.
He climbed into the seat.
Closed the door.
And immediately appreciated the silence.
The comfortable silence unique to high-end cars.
Everything felt solid.
Refined.
Carefully engineered.
For a moment he simply sat there.
Hands resting lightly on the steering wheel.
Taking it all in.
Then he pressed the start button.
The engine came to life.
Smoothly.
Confidently.
A deep mechanical growl filled the cabin.
Not loud.
Not obnoxious.
Just enough to remind him that serious performance existed beneath the hood.
Francesco smiled immediately.
"Oh, that's nice."
Very nice.
Beside him, Cheddar tilted his head.
The dog appeared uncertain whether this was exciting or suspicious.
Possibly both.
The digital displays illuminated.
Systems activated.
The car settled into a smooth idle.
Everything felt effortless.
Modern.
Sophisticated.
BMW clearly knew what they were doing.
Then again, that wasn't exactly breaking news.
A moment later the M2 began rolling down the driveway.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The gates opened.
And for the first time, Francesco guided the new car onto the streets of Richmond.
The neighborhood looked beautiful beneath the afternoon sunlight.
Winter remained firmly in control.
The trees stood bare.
The air carried that crisp January sharpness.
Yet the sky remained clear.
Bright blue stretching overhead.
Perfect driving weather.
Not that he planned anything dramatic.
This wasn't a racetrack.
This wasn't some high-speed adventure.
It was simply a first drive.
A chance to get familiar with the car.
A chance to enjoy the moment.
The BMW responded beautifully.
Every steering input felt precise.
Every movement felt controlled.
The acceleration was effortless.
The sort of effortless power that immediately inspired confidence.
Francesco drove through the quiet streets at a relaxed pace.
Past familiar houses.
Past local parks.
Past roads he had traveled hundreds of times before.
Yet somehow everything felt slightly different today.
Because today he was experiencing it through a brand-new machine.
A very impressive machine.
Several people recognized him almost immediately.
One teenager walking along the pavement pointed excitedly.
Another pulled out a phone.
A couple of Arsenal supporters waved.
Francesco smiled and waved back.
The car itself probably attracted nearly as much attention as its driver.
Possibly more.
Especially among car enthusiasts.
At one intersection, a man waiting beside his own vehicle lowered his window.
"Nice car!"
Francesco laughed.
"Thank you!"
The man nodded approvingly.
Then the traffic light changed.
And both continued on their way.
Simple.
Friendly.
Exactly the sort of interaction Richmond often produced.
Meanwhile Cheddar had fully embraced his role as passenger.
The dog sat upright in the seat.
Looking out the window.
Watching the world pass by.
Occasionally shifting position.
Occasionally sniffing the air.
At one point he seemed fascinated by a cyclist.
At another he became deeply invested in observing a squirrel.
A very busy afternoon.
Francesco glanced over.
"You enjoying yourself?"
Tail wag.
Apparently yes.
The drive continued.
Nothing rushed.
Nothing complicated.
Just a pleasant afternoon exploring the neighborhood.
For perhaps thirty minutes he simply enjoyed the experience.
The handling.
The comfort.
The sound of the engine.
The satisfaction of driving something clearly built by people who cared deeply about cars.
It felt special.
Not because it was expensive.
Not because it was a gift.
But because it represented something.
Recognition.
Achievement.
A reminder of everything that had happened over the previous two years.
The goals.
The trophies.
The victories.
The hard work.
Winning one Ballon d'Or had felt surreal.
Winning a second consecutive one felt almost impossible.
Yet somehow it had happened.
And now a BMW M2 sat beneath his hands because of it.
Life moved in strange ways sometimes.
Wonderful ways.
But strange.
Eventually he pointed the car back toward home.
The short test drive had done exactly what he wanted.
Enough time to appreciate it.
Enough time to understand it.
Enough time to enjoy the moment.
The mansion soon appeared ahead.
The familiar gates.
The long driveway.
Home.
Francesco slowed as he approached.
Then noticed something else.
A vehicle.
A very familiar vehicle.
His BMW X5.
The SUV was just pulling into the driveway from the opposite direction.
He smiled immediately.
Leah.
Training must have finished.
The X5 rolled smoothly through the gates.
A moment later it came to a stop.
Francesco guided the M2 into the driveway as well.
For a brief second both vehicles sat side by side.
The old car.
And the brand-new performance coupe.
An interesting combination.
The driver's door of the X5 opened.
Leah climbed out.
Training bag over one shoulder.
Arsenal training gear still visible beneath her coat.
She closed the door.
Looked up.
And immediately froze.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Just long enough.
Her eyes moved from Francesco.
To the car.
Back to Francesco.
Then back to the car again.
The expression was priceless.
Absolutely priceless.
Francesco rolled down the window.
Trying and failing to hide his grin.
"Good session?"
Leah continued staring at the BMW.
"What is that?"
"A car."
The look she gave him suggested she was reconsidering several life choices.
"I know it's a car."
"Good start."
"Francesco."
He laughed.
"I got a present."
Leah slowly walked closer.
Still studying the vehicle.
Still trying to process what she was seeing.
"A present."
"Yes."
"A BMW M2."
"Also yes."
"A brand-new BMW M2."
"Correct."
Leah stopped beside the driver's window.
Folded her arms.
And smiled.
The kind of smile that combined amusement, disbelief, and affection all at once.
"How long?"
"How long what?"
"How long have you been waiting to show me?"
Francesco considered the question.
"Approximately thirty-eight minutes."
She burst out laughing.
"I knew it."
"I tried to wait."
"No, you didn't."
"Fair."
Leah shook her head.
Then looked at the car again.
The sunlight reflected brilliantly across the paintwork.
Even she had to admit it looked incredible.
"Okay."
Francesco raised an eyebrow.
"Okay what?"
"It's beautiful."
Victory.
Immediate victory.
He pointed dramatically.
"You heard that, right?"
Leah laughed.
"Don't make it weird."
"It's already weird."
"That's true."
Cheddar suddenly appeared in the passenger window.
Tail wagging enthusiastically.
Leah immediately spotted him.
"Oh."
Now she laughed even harder.
"You took him with you?"
"Of course."
The dog looked incredibly proud of himself.
Like a co-owner.
Or perhaps the chief test driver.
Leah reached through the open window and scratched behind his ears.
"Did you enjoy your drive?"
More tail wagging.
A positive review.
Francesco climbed out of the car.
Leah walked around it slowly.
Examining everything.
The wheels.
The interior.
The details.
Even she couldn't deny the appeal.
Eventually she stopped beside him.
"So BMW just gave you this?"
"Apparently."
"Because of the Ballon d'Or?"
"Apparently."
Leah shook her head in disbelief.
Football remained ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
Yet somehow neither of them could stop smiling.
Because standing there together in the driveway, beneath the pale winter sunlight, looking at the newest addition to an already successful footballer's life, it was difficult not to appreciate how far things had come.
A year ago, winning another Ballon d'Or had been a dream.
Now there was a BMW M2 parked beside the mansion because that dream had become reality.
Leah slipped her hand into his.
"You know…"
"Hm?"
"I'm happy for you."
The teasing disappeared from her voice.
The humor remained.
But something more genuine existed underneath it.
Pride.
Simple pride.
She had seen the work.
The sacrifices.
The endless training sessions.
The pressure.
The criticism.
The expectations.
She knew better than almost anyone what success actually cost.
Francesco squeezed her hand gently.
"Thank you."
For a moment neither said anything.
They simply stood there together.
The winter afternoon calm around them.
The mansion behind them.
The new BMW gleaming beside them.
And Cheddar still sitting proudly in the passenger seat as though he personally had won the Ballon d'Or.
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Name : Francesco Lee
Age : 19 (2017)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, and 2016/2017 Champions League.
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 31
Goal: 38
Assist: 2
MOTM: 5
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 2
Goal: 2
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 16/17 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 55
Goal: 87
Assist: 5
MOTM: 14
POTM: 1
England:
Match: 1
Goal: 1
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 15/16 stats:
Arsenal:
Match Played: 60
Goal: 82
Assist: 10
MOTM: 9
POTM: 1
England:
Match Played: 2
Goal: 4
Assist: 0
Euro 2016
Match Played: 6
Goal: 13
Assist: 4
MOTM: 6
Season 14/15 stats:
Match Played: 35
Goal: 45
Assist: 12
MOTM: 9