By early afternoon, Melwood's meeting room had acquired the atmosphere of a boardroom preparing for a takeover.
Documents covered the main table. A laptop stood open at one end, connected to a large screen displaying Mike Gordon, Liverpool's American-based ownership representative, joining remotely from the United States.
Michael Edwards sat opposite Jürgen Klopp, a folder bearing Azim's name positioned neatly before him.
Klopp had watched the Rubin Kazan match again that morning.
Not the highlights. The entire recording.
He had studied the pressing sequences, Azim's movement around Coutinho, the runs that pulled defenders away from the centre, and the periods when his influence diminished as Rubin became more compact.
The goals had impressed him.
The decisions behind them interested him even more.
"He is eighteen," Edwards said, breaking the silence. "He has made one Premier League start and now scored a European hat-trick. He is still registered on an academy arrangement, earning seven hundred pounds a week."
Klopp leaned back.
"Seven hundred?"
"Yes."
The manager rubbed his forehead.
"Then we have a problem."
"We have a contractual opportunity," Edwards corrected. "A problem would be discovering that he had already committed himself elsewhere."
On the screen, Gordon folded his hands.
"What has changed since last night?"
"His public reputation, his perceived market value, and the number of clubs interested in speaking to him," Edwards replied. "But we need to distinguish between his long-term potential and the market's reaction to one exceptional performance."
He opened the folder and placed a printed summary on the table.
"Manchester City have indicated a potential package worth around twenty million pounds, with another eight million in performance-related payments. The preliminary personal terms discussed include wages of approximately seventy-five thousand pounds a week and a signing bonus of one million."
He turned the page.
"Chelsea have explored eighteen million guaranteed, potentially rising by another seven million in add-ons. The salary discussed is seventy thousand pounds a week. They have suggested a pathway into their first team, although regular minutes are not guaranteed and a loan remains possible."
Klopp's expression remained unchanged.
"Continue."
"Paris Saint-Germain have indicated a potential package of twenty-two million pounds, with another six million in add-ons. They would be prepared to discuss wages of ninety thousand a week. Their representatives have also raised image rights, although everything remains exploratory."
Edwards consulted his notes.
"An intermediary associated with Real Madrid has discussed a potential twenty-million-pound transfer, rising by another ten million. The salary figure mentioned is around eighty-five thousand a week, but there is no formal written bid. Bayern Munich have asked about fifteen million plus five million in bonuses, with wages around sixty thousand a week. Borussia Dortmund have explored sixteen million plus four million, while Arsenal have expressed interest around twelve million plus six million in add-ons."
The room fell quiet.
The figures were substantial, but Edwards was careful to distinguish preliminary approaches from formal offers. These were indications of interest and possible negotiating positions, not seven completed agreements awaiting Azim's decision.
"We should expect the situation to change," he continued. "More clubs may become interested as the footage spreads. There may also be attempts to exaggerate the situation through the press. We cannot allow rumours to dictate our decisions."
Gordon looked towards Klopp.
"What do you recommend?"
The manager answered without hesitation.
"Renew his contract. Today, if the legal work allows it. Make him a proper first-team player and keep him here."
Edwards studied him.
"You're that certain?"
"I watched him play."
"We all watched him play."
"No," Klopp replied. "You watched the goals. I watched what he did before and after them."
He leaned forward, resting his hands on the table.
"He presses with purpose. He closes passing lanes instead of simply chasing the ball. When we recover possession, he can link the play, run behind the defensive line, or hold a centre-back away from the ball. He has the physical attributes to develop into a target man, but he is also learning to play as a false nine."
Klopp tapped the folder.
"He is not finished developing. I know that. But I want him at the centre of this project. I will not sell him simply because another club offers a large sum after one exceptional night."
Gordon considered the answer.
"Would you call him a core player?"
"Yes."
"Not merely a promising youngster we might use when circumstances suit us?"
"A core player," Klopp repeated. "Someone I want to build our attacking options around."
He paused before adding a qualification.
"That doesn't mean he plays every match. He must train properly, recover well, understand the system, and earn his minutes. I will not promise him a starting place regardless of performance. But I want him here, and I want to develop him into a forward we can rely on."
Edwards nodded.
"That is the clarity we needed."
"Then prepare a serious offer," Gordon said. "If the manager considers him central to the team's future, the contract should reflect that. We also need a sensible structure for bonuses, commercial rights, and representation."
"Agreed," Edwards replied.
Klopp rose from his chair.
"Call Azim and his father. Let's speak to them directly."
Azim arrived at Melwood with his father a little after three.
Mr Malik wore a charcoal suit that appeared to have been carefully preserved for an occasion of particular importance. It fitted reasonably well, although the sleeves revealed the thick wrists and weathered hands of a man more accustomed to hard work than comfortable meeting rooms.
He shook Edwards's hand, greeted Klopp, and took the chair beside his son.
For the first few minutes, the conversation remained formal. Edwards explained that Liverpool wanted to secure Azim's future, that Klopp considered him an important part of the first-team project, and that the club had prepared an offer in light of his performances and the growing interest from elsewhere.
Then he placed the contract before Azim.
"This is our proposal," Edwards said. "A five-year agreement running through 30 June 2020, with a basic salary of fifty thousand pounds a week."
Azim stared at the page.
For a moment, the figures seemed unreal.
Fifty thousand pounds a week.
He knew professional footballers could earn extraordinary sums. He understood that a successful career could change a family's circumstances forever. But knowing that in the abstract was different from seeing the amount printed beside his own name.
Edwards continued.
"Your guaranteed basic salary would amount to approximately £2.6 million a year before tax and other deductions. Over five years, the basic salary alone would total thirteen million pounds, assuming the contract runs its full course without changes."
Mr Malik kept his eyes on the document.
"And the bonuses?"
"They are detailed in Schedule Two."
Edwards turned the contract so they could read it together.
"The signing bonus is eighty thousand pounds. Forty thousand would be payable once the agreement is executed and the relevant registration conditions are satisfied. The remaining forty thousand would be paid after fifteen competitive first-team appearances."
Azim moved to the next section.
"What about appearance bonuses?"
"For competitive first-team matches, the proposed payments are eight thousand pounds for a start, four thousand for an appearance from the bench, and fifteen hundred for remaining an unused substitute. The last payment applies only when you're named in the matchday squad and available for selection."
He explained the remaining provisions in detail.
Each competitive goal would earn Azim £7,500, while an assist would earn £3,000. Additional match bonuses would reward victories, with payments linked to his participation.
The seasonal goal bonuses were more substantial. Reaching ten Premier League goals would earn £20,000, fifteen would earn £30,000, twenty would earn £45,000, twenty-five would earn £65,000, thirty would earn £90,000, thirty-five would earn £125,000, and forty would earn £175,000. Each milestone would be paid once, with the rewards accumulating as he reached successive thresholds.
The assist bonuses offered £15,000 for ten league assists, £25,000 for fifteen, and £40,000 for twenty.
Appearance milestones carried separate rewards: £25,000 for twenty-five competitive first-team appearances, £50,000 for fifty, and £100,000 for one hundred.
The club's achievements would also be recognised. Reaching the Europa League knockout stage would earn £40,000, winning the competition £100,000, and qualifying for the following season's Champions League another £100,000. Winning the Premier League would bring £200,000, as would winning the Champions League.
Individual awards offered further incentives: £100,000 for the Premier League Golden Boot, £50,000 for the PFA Young Player of the Year award, and £100,000 for the PFA Players' Player of the Year award. Earning his first senior England cap would trigger another £10,000.
"These are performance incentives, not guaranteed wages," Edwards explained. "Each payment depends on the stated conditions being met, and the contract specifies how overlapping milestones are handled."
Azim nodded. The distinction was clear enough. The basic salary gave him security; the rest depended on his performances, his selection, and the team's achievements.
"What about commercial rights?" his father asked.
"Azim retains his personal image rights under the proposed arrangement," Edwards replied. "The club would receive a non-exclusive licence for ordinary club-related media, promotions, and agreed commercial activities. Individual campaigns would require separate written terms. We are not seeking control over every endorsement or personal project he might pursue."
"And the release clause?"
Edwards pointed to the relevant paragraph.
"One hundred and fifty million pounds."
Azim looked up.
"One hundred and fifty?"
"That is the proposed figure," Edwards confirmed. "The final wording will need to specify exactly how the clause operates and comply with the applicable rules. Its purpose is to protect the club's long-term investment. It does not compel you to leave at that price."
Mr Malik leaned back, absorbing the information.
"You are offering a substantial contract to a very young player."
"We are doing so because the manager has made his position clear," Edwards replied. "We believe in Azim's potential, and we would rather secure his future than revisit the question every time another club makes an enquiry."
Azim turned to the section concerning representation.
"The agent's fee says ten per cent. Ten per cent of what?"
Edwards glanced towards the club solicitor, who had joined the meeting to explain the legal provisions.
"The draft proposes a representation fee equal to ten per cent of your gross basic salary," the solicitor explained. "At fifty thousand pounds a week, that represents five thousand pounds weekly in equivalent commission. Over five years, assuming your salary remains unchanged and the contract runs its full course, the total would be approximately £1.3 million before tax and any applicable expenses."
Azim glanced at his father.
Mr Malik remained composed, although the lines beside his eyes had deepened.
"The representation agreement is separate from your salary," the solicitor continued. "The fee would not automatically be deducted from your weekly wages. The proposed arrangement is for the club to pay it separately, subject to the necessary paperwork and regulatory compliance. Everything must be documented properly."
"And Dad receives that money?"
"Your father would receive the agreed fee for the representation services he provides under the separate agreement. Because he is both your father and your agent, you should obtain independent legal advice to ensure that everyone understands their responsibilities and any potential conflicts of interest."
Azim considered that carefully.
He trusted his father completely, but trust did not mean they should leave important matters unexplained simply because they were family.
"Can I refuse the contract?"
"Of course," the solicitor answered. "You can request changes, take independent advice, or decline the offer. The decision is yours. We want you to understand what you are signing."
Mr Malik nodded.
"I want that made absolutely clear."
"It will be," the solicitor assured him.
Azim turned towards his father.
"Are you comfortable with the fee?"
His father met his gaze.
"I'm comfortable with fair payment for the work I actually do. But I will never ask you to sign something you don't understand simply because I'm your father. The money is not why we came here."
Azim felt the tension in his shoulders begin to ease.
That was the answer he had needed. It reassured him that they could discuss money openly without allowing it to define their relationship.
The papers remained spread across the table when Klopp leaned forward.
"Now, I want to talk about football."
Azim straightened.
"Yes, boss."
"You had an extraordinary match against Rubin, and you also performed well against Tottenham. You've earned our attention. But I want you to understand what I mean when I say you're a core player in my system."
Klopp gestured towards the tactics board.
"I don't want a striker who believes his job is finished when he scores. When we lose possession, you must know whether to press the defender, block a passing lane, or recover your position when the press fails. When we win the ball, you must recognise whether to play forward immediately, carry it yourself, or keep possession."
Azim listened intently.
"I want to develop you into a forward who can play in different ways. Sometimes you'll receive the ball with your back to goal and act as a target man. Sometimes you'll drop into midfield as a false nine, draw defenders out of position, and create space for teammates running beyond you. We'll work on your movement, first touch under pressure, combination play, and defensive responsibilities."
Klopp paused.
"But there's one thing I won't promise."
Azim knew the answer.
"Starting places."
"Exactly. Your position will depend on your training, fitness, the opposition, our tactical plan, and the condition of the other players. You must earn your place every week."
Azim felt a flicker of disappointment. After scoring three goals at Anfield, part of him had hoped the club would immediately recognise him as its first-choice striker.
Yet a guaranteed starting position would mean little if it came without the expectation that he continued to earn it.
"So when you call me a core player," he asked, "you mean I'm part of the long-term plan, but I still have to fight for minutes?"
Klopp smiled.
"Now you understand."
"And if I train well and perform well, you'll give me opportunities?"
"If you're performing well and ready to play, I'll consider you. I won't promise you a specific number of appearances, but I want you in the first-team group. I want you to become a forward we can depend on."
Azim nodded.
"That's what I wanted to hear, boss."
Klopp tilted his head.
"You wanted me to promise to make you a star?"
"No. I wanted to know what you expect from me."
For a moment, Klopp regarded him silently before his expression softened.
"Good answer."
After explaining his expectations for Azim's development, Klopp began gathering the papers. The meeting appeared to be drawing to a close when Azim hesitated.
"Boss, can I ask about our recruitment plans?"
Klopp glanced at Edwards.
"Go ahead."
"If Liverpool want to win the Premier League and the Champions League, I think we need a few exceptional players."
Edwards raised an eyebrow.
"Anyone in particular?"
"Four players. Sadio Mané and Virgil van Dijk at Southampton, N'Golo Kanté at Leicester City, and Kalidou Koulibaly at Napoli."
The room fell silent.
Klopp stared at him.
"You've just signed your first major contract, scored a hat-trick in Europe, and now you want to discuss our transfer targets?"
Azim offered an awkward smile.
"I know it sounds ambitious, boss. But I believe they could make us stronger."
"Then explain why," Edwards said.
Azim leaned forward.
"Mané has exceptional acceleration and movement. He can attack the space behind defenders, exploit counterattacks, and stretch compact defensive lines. His pace and work rate would make him dangerous in our pressing system."
Klopp nodded thoughtfully.
"He certainly has interesting qualities. But Southampton won't willingly strengthen a direct rival."
"I understand. I'm not saying we should pay whatever they demand. I think we should investigate the possibility."
"And Van Dijk?" Edwards asked.
"We need a stronger defensive foundation. He has the physical presence, composure, and passing ability to help us defend a high line. If our centre-backs can handle the space behind them and remain comfortable in possession, our midfielders can press more aggressively."
Klopp considered the argument.
"That is an important part of the system."
Azim continued.
"Kanté could give us greater energy and protection in midfield. He wins possession, covers ground, and allows creative players to take more risks. We need someone who can recover the ball and keep the team balanced when our press is broken."
Edwards made a note.
"And Koulibaly?"
"He could provide another strong option at centre-back. His physical attributes and ability to compete against powerful forwards could be valuable over a long season. Your scouts would need to assess his suitability, of course."
Klopp exchanged a glance with Edwards.
Their reaction remained cautious. Azim was eighteen, and although his footballing intelligence had impressed them, recommending four players from three different clubs was an ambitious step beyond his responsibilities.
"Azim," Edwards said, "we cannot sign players simply because someone recommends them. We must consider transfer fees, wages, tactical suitability, development, and whether their clubs are prepared to negotiate. Southampton, in particular, would have little reason to sell us two important players."
"I understand," Azim replied. "I'm not asking you to sign all four. I'm asking you to consider them. If we want to compete with Europe's best, we need players who improve the team, not simply increase the size of the squad."
Klopp studied him.
"Your job is to become the best forward you can be. Recruitment is our responsibility."
"Yes, boss. But if I see players who could help us win trophies, I thought I should say something."
Klopp remained silent for a moment before nodding.
"Fair enough. I don't want players telling the club whom we must buy, but I do want them thinking about the team beyond their own performances."
He turned towards Edwards.
"Ask the recruitment department to review their reports on these four players. We should assess their suitability against our priorities."
Edwards nodded. "I'll arrange that. But this is an initial assessment, not a commitment to make offers."
"Of course," Azim replied.
Mike Gordon, who had been listening through the screen, finally spoke.
"Then we have something worth investigating. We won't let the excitement surrounding one performance dictate our transfer strategy, but we should examine opportunities that could strengthen the squad."
Klopp returned his attention to Azim.
"Remember something. Good players don't automatically make a good team. We need the right players, with the right qualities, who can work together."
"I agree, boss."
"Good. Then concentrate on becoming one of those players yourself."
Azim grinned.
"I will."
Edwards recorded the four names in his notebook, alongside the qualities Azim had identified. Nobody made promises, and the club would not pursue every recommendation simply because the young forward had suggested it. Nevertheless, the discussion had earned the players a place on the recruitment department's list for further assessment.
Klopp glanced at the clock.
"All right. We've discussed the players we might sign. Now we need to make sure the player sitting in front of us is ready for Southampton."
Azim laughed.
"I was waiting for you to say that."
"Then you should have known better than to bring up four transfer targets."
The tension eased. Azim had not persuaded Liverpool to sign anyone, but he had been given the opportunity to explain his thinking, and the club had agreed to investigate.
For him, that was enough.
He believed Liverpool could become a team capable of challenging for the biggest trophies, and he wanted to contribute to that ambition in every way he could.
"There is one more thing I want to ask," Azim said.
Edwards looked up.
"Go ahead."
"Can I continue studying while I'm playing?"
Klopp's eyebrows rose.
"Studying what?"
"A degree."
For the first time that afternoon, the discussion moved away from wages, transfer fees, and tactical recruitment. Even Gordon leaned towards the screen with renewed interest.
Klopp folded his arms.
"What did you study at school?"
"PE, Biology, and Psychology. I got AAA."
"Three As?"
"Yes, boss."
Klopp glanced at Edwards.
"You didn't tell me this."
"We hadn't discussed his university plans," Edwards replied. "I knew he'd completed his examinations, but not that he intended to continue immediately."
Azim explained that he wanted to study for a BSc (Hons) in Sport, Fitness and Coaching. He had considered the idea for some time, although the difficulty of balancing university with professional football had made him uncertain about when to begin.
He wanted to understand the discipline he had devoted his life to: the science of training, the psychology of performance, the demands of coaching, and the process through which a talented youngster developed into a mature athlete.
Football was his ambition.
Education would allow him to keep learning, even when the game became difficult.
Edwards considered the question carefully.
"The Open University may offer a suitable part-time route, although we would need to confirm the exact course structure, entry requirements, and available modules. Completing a degree alongside an elite football career could take around six years, depending on your workload and progress."
"Six years," Azim repeated quietly.
"That's a substantial commitment," Edwards said. "You'll have training, recovery, travel, matches, and assignments. Some weeks will be manageable. Others will be difficult, particularly around examination periods and European fixtures."
"I understand."
Klopp studied him.
"Why do you want to do it now?"
Azim looked down at his hands.
"Because I don't want football to be the only thing I know how to do. I love playing. I want to become one of the best players in the world. But a football career can change very quickly. An injury can take away a season, and a bad decision can change everything. Even if my career goes well, I don't want to stop learning when I finish playing."
He paused.
"I want to become a better player now. Perhaps one day I'll want to coach. I don't know yet. I simply want the freedom to choose."
His father remained quiet beside him.
Mr Malik had spent years worrying about whether his son would make it in football. He had worked long shifts, paid for equipment, and watched him return home exhausted from training. The thought of Azim taking on another demanding commitment should have worried him.
Instead, he found himself looking at a young man who no longer measured his entire future by what happened on a football pitch.
Klopp nodded slowly.
"I like that."
"Really?"
"Yes. But don't underestimate the work. You cannot enrol simply to tell people you have a degree. You must complete the assignments, sit the examinations, and learn."
"I will."
"We'll ask the club's education staff to help you develop a realistic schedule. Your training and recovery must come first, but I don't want you abandoning education because you think a footballer should only think about football."
Edwards made a note.
"The club can investigate suitable courses, tuition arrangements, and the support available to you. I'd rather give you a workable plan than make promises before we've checked the details."
Azim smiled.
"That would be enough."
"Good," Klopp said. "Then we have another plan to work on."
The final contract discussion lasted another forty minutes.
They reviewed the basic salary, performance incentives, signing bonus, image rights, release clause, medical provisions, and representation agreement. The club's solicitor clarified which payments were guaranteed and which depended on performance. Azim and his father were given time to discuss the terms privately and complete an independent legal review before agreeing to proceed.
The five-year contract would run through 30 June 2020. Azim's basic salary would rise to £50,000 a week, with an £80,000 signing bonus paid in two instalments. Performance bonuses would reward his appearances, goals, assists, individual achievements, and contribution to the club's success. The proposed release clause stood at £150 million, subject to its final legally compliant wording.
The separate representation agreement recorded the ten per cent agent fee on basic salary, payable separately rather than deducted from Azim's wages, with the appropriate regulatory paperwork required before payment.
His father read the final page once more before turning it towards his son.
"Your decision, son."
Azim looked at the signature line.
There had been a time when a professional contract had seemed like the finish line. He had believed that reaching Liverpool's first team would make everything else fall into place.
Now he understood that the contract was another beginning.
It could not guarantee goals, trophies, international selection, or a career free from injury. It could not promise that the supporters would love him forever or protect him from every difficult day.
What it offered was security, the backing of his manager, and an opportunity to develop at one of football's great clubs.
His father sat beside him without urging him to hurry.
Azim picked up the pen and signed.
For a few seconds, nobody spoke. His signature looked small beneath a document representing years of work, sacrifice, and uncertainty.
Then Klopp stood and offered his hand.
"Welcome properly to the first team, Azim."
Azim shook it.
"Thank you, boss."
"Don't thank me for the contract. Thank yourself by earning it."
Azim laughed.
"I will try."
"No trying," Klopp replied with a grin. "Work."
Edwards shook his hand, followed by the others in the room. Gordon offered his congratulations through the screen, reminding him that a successful career required sensible decisions away from the pitch as well as on it.
When the meeting ended, Mr Malik gathered his copy of the agreement and slipped it into his briefcase.
Outside the room, he stopped beside his son.
"You understand what you've signed?"
"Yes."
"And you understand the responsibility that comes with it?"
Azim met his father's eyes.
"I do."
Satisfied, Mr Malik nodded, and they began walking down the corridor. For a while, neither spoke. The familiar sounds of Melwood gradually returned around them: staff moving between offices, doors closing, and conversations drifting from nearby rooms.
Then his father broke the silence.
"Your mother has already asked when we can put that match ball in the living room."
Azim smiled.
"I promised her it would be there."
"She intends to make sure everyone who visits the house sees it."
"That sounds like Mum."
"She's also told me that scoring three goals doesn't excuse you from eating properly."
Azim laughed.
"Of course she has."
Near the entrance, Mr Malik stopped and placed a hand on his son's shoulder.
"Listen to me. This contract is wonderful. The money is wonderful. But none of it changes who you are. You're still my son. You still have to work hard, respect people, and remember those who helped you get here."
The familiar warmth of his father's affection settled over Azim, but it no longer carried the same helplessness that had accompanied his promise to make his parents proud.
He was no longer simply imagining a future in which he could repay them.
He was beginning to build one.
"I know, Dad."
Mr Malik nodded.
"Good. Now let's go home."
As they stepped outside, Azim glanced back towards the first-team building.
The club had made its decision. Klopp wanted him, the directors had backed the manager's plan, and the outside interest had been answered with a contract that gave his future at Liverpool a clearer direction. His recommendations had also earned consideration, while his plans for university had been met with support rather than dismissal.
But the season would not be decided by the figures on a piece of paper.
It would be decided on the training pitch, in the split second when a defender committed to the wrong side, in the pass he chose not to force, in the run he made when nobody was watching, and in his willingness to recognise when his body needed rest.
There would be other matches, mistakes, and days when the crowd demanded more than he could give. There would also be moments when he would have to prove that his performance against Rubin Kazan had not been a fortunate exception.
Azim drew a deep breath of the cold Merseyside air.
He had a new contract, a degree to pursue, and a place in Jürgen Klopp's plans.
For now, that was enough.
He had arrived at Liverpool as a boy determined to become a professional footballer.
He left Melwood understanding that becoming great would require far more than scoring goals.
And on Sunday, against Southampton, the work would begin again.