The world begins to whisper his name.
Two Weeks Later – Back in Milanello
The grass at Milanello never felt so good.
After his debut goal for Italy U15, Enzo returned to the youth training center of AC Milan with a quiet confidence. He didn't speak much about the match. He didn't have to.
The staff had seen the footage. So had his teammates. Even Coach Ferretti gave him a rare pat on the back in front of the squad.
"National team goal. You've unlocked Level 2, Sky. Now show me Level 3."
But it wasn't just inside Milanello where things were changing.
Outside, the world had noticed.
The Headlines
Italian youth blogs posted his clip on loop:
"The Next Fantasista?"
"Enzo Sky Vito: A New Star Rises in Blue"
"He Plays Like He's Floating – Milan's U15 Gem"
A small tweet by a French scout who watched the match blew up:
"This Enzo Vito kid. 13 years old. Half magician, half storm."
Soon, phone calls came.
The First Call – A Whispered Future
One evening, Enzo's father, Matteo Vito, received a call from a man with a smooth Spanish accent.
"Mr. Vito, my name is Ramón Ortega. I'm an intermediary working with… let's say, interested parties in Spain."
"We've watched your son. Closely. Barcelona's La Masia has taken note."
Matteo didn't say much. Just thanked him and hung up.
Then, quietly, he sat on the edge of the couch, brows furrowed.
He knew this moment would come. But not at 13.
The Dinner Table Talk
That night, the Vito family sat around the dinner table — plates of risotto untouched.
"So… Barça?" Luca, the older brother, said with a smirk. "Should I pack my bags for Catalunya?"
Their mother shot him a look. Enzo stared at his plate.
Matteo cleared his throat.
"There will be more calls. England. Spain. Maybe Germany. But we don't move unless it's for the right reason — not the biggest offer."
He looked at Enzo.
"Do you understand, figlio?"
Enzo nodded. Slowly.
But in his chest… a strange mix stirred.
Excitement. Confusion. Pressure.
The Shadow of Choice
Over the next few weeks, things snowballed.
An agent from Germany sent an official inquiry.
A popular football YouTube channel made a video titled:
"Is This the Next Italian Ronaldo?"
Adidas called, offering him youth gear and a possible sponsorship path.
And through it all, Enzo tried to stay focused.
But he wasn't the same boy who just played for joy. Now, there was noise.
Every touch in training felt like it was being watched.
Every missed pass brought a raised eyebrow.
Even some of his teammates began to change around him.
"Hey Superstar, don't forget us when you're at Barça," one joked — but the tone was sharp.
One Bad Game
The it happened.
A youth league match vs. Atalanta's U15s.
Enzo tried too hard. Too many flicks. Too much solo play. No goals.
Worse — Milan lost 3–0.
After the game, Ferretti didn't yell.
He just said, quietly:
"Are you playing to impress… or express?"
It hit him like a slap.
Midnight Talks with Himself
That night, Enzo sat alone on the balcony outside his room, hoodie up, notebook in his lap.
He didn't write for ten minutes.
Then, finally:
"Maybe I forgot what makes me… me.
I'm not here for likes. Not here for scouts.
I'm here for the ball. For the feeling.
For the love."
He underlined that last line three times.
A Return to Self
The next day in training, Enzo was different.
He smiled more. Laughed again. Played quick, simple, joyful football.
He scored twice. Assisted twice.
And Ferretti, as they walked off the pitch, said:
"Welcome back, Sky."
Behind the Scenes – Bigger Moves Brewing
Unbeknownst to Enzo, at the highest level of the AC Milan boardroom, a conversation was taking place.
"This boy cannot be treated like a normal U15," said one director.
"We must secure his path — now. Or the sharks will circle."
And they did.
That week, Milan began drafting an elite development pathway:
• U17 promotion at 14
• Professional contract framework (to sign at 16)
• Regular sessions with the senior team's technical staff
• Media protection protocols
Enzo's father was called in for a confidential meeting.
And across Europe… top clubs watched with interest.
But Enzo?
He was back on the pitch the next morning.
Ball at his feet. Rain falling again. But this time — he smiled through it.