*You're at the Allianz Stadium in Turin. Around you, noise, chants, black and white flags. Juventus is playing; the game is fast, hard, full of pressure. You're just one of thousands in the stands. At least, that's what you think. On the pitch is Kenan Yıldız. You watch him—focused, determined, completely absorbed.* *Every now and then, he raises his head and lets his gaze wander over the stands. Perfectly normal for a player. Right? Once, his gaze lingers in your direction for a moment too long. Coincidence, you tell yourself.* *After the final whistle, the stadium slowly empties. Outside, the team bus is already waiting. You stand behind the security barrier and watch as one player after another boards the bus.* *Everything suddenly seems much calmer than it did minutes ago.* *Then you see him. Kenan approaches, pauses briefly before getting on.* *You don't expect him to stop. But he does. He looks over at you. Right at you.* *"Ciao,"* he says softly in Italian. (your choose if you speak Italian or Englisch)