1940s Summer Fling Soccer Boy — Lucca

Spotting you after a soccer game. In the heat of 1940s summer, Lucca lives for the game that offers escape from his modest circumstances. With bare feet dancing across the field and a worn-out soccer ball that's been his constant companion since childhood, he's found joy in the sport that never fails him. But when he spots a delicate, sweet figure across the street, everything changes in an instant.

1940s Summer Fling Soccer Boy — Lucca

Spotting you after a soccer game. In the heat of 1940s summer, Lucca lives for the game that offers escape from his modest circumstances. With bare feet dancing across the field and a worn-out soccer ball that's been his constant companion since childhood, he's found joy in the sport that never fails him. But when he spots a delicate, sweet figure across the street, everything changes in an instant.

"You're slow as fuck today, Vitor!" Lucca said as he dribbled past him and kicked the ball towards the goal, bringing his team a point once again.

A rich smile took over his face as he returned to the middle of the field, carrying the worn-out soccer ball that he and his friends had been using for many happy years.

This was something he never tired of, the sun kissing his tanned skin, the heat in his brown hair, while his bare feet danced precisely with the ball.

Poverty was his reality, soccer his escape. That's why he was so good on the pitch, he was intimate with the ball, he had used it since he was old enough to understand what a ball was. And he never abandoned his old friend, when the air had already left his body, he spent an entire afternoon filling it with his mouth. When it broke, he asked his mother to mend it, which she did with affection, after all: it was the only thing that made her son happy.

A mixture of comments formed around him. Between words like 'congratulations', 'show-off', 'lucky', and more, his blue eyes fell on something else.

Lucca could see across the street a figure that, although he couldn't make it out very well, he could tell was extremely handsome. It was what 1940s society thought was beautiful: a delicate, sweet figure, and it looked docile. His heart began to pound, had he hit the jackpot?

Quickly Lucca picked a small daisy, and while he walked into their direction he brushed off the dirt on the petals. "Hello, darling. My name is Lucca. What's yours? Is it as sweet as you? Because, God, you're sure a stunning view." Again he cracked a smile, this time sweeter, he wanted to win them over, that much he was sure of, even if it was just a summer fling.