Autunno 2019 – Milan, Italy
The sun over Milan didn't rise — it stretched.
Golden, lazy, and theatrical, like a curtain call after a sold-out opera at Teatro alla Scala.
And in an upscale penthouse just minutes from Corso Como, the curtains pulled back for the new face of Italian football.
Enzo Sky Vito — 18, superstar, prodigy, household name — blinked awake.
08:13 – "Routine is the rhythm of a champion."First came silence. No notifications, no noise. Just birds. Then Enzo slid open the window.
The Duomo's silhouette stood proud in the near distance.
He brushed his blonde hair back and stepped onto the balcony in a YSL hoodie, sipping his first espresso.
He always started the day analog — a physical journal, leather-bound, with a fountain pen.
He scribbled:
"Be like water. Flow through space. Dance in chaos."
Then: breakfast. Avocado toast. Fruit. Three eggs. Protein shake. Vitamin D drops.
Enzo didn't cheat his mornings — his body was his canvas.
09:01 – Checking in with the real
ones.
FaceTime: his mother — radiant even without makeup. She was once the queen of Milan Fashion Week runways. Now? Still queen, but of their family.
"Eat more papaya, Enzino. It's good for your skin and... digestion."
"Mamma, I'm not an influencer, I'm a baller."
"You're both, darling."
Call: His older brother, the rock.
"The media's eating you up today, bro. That Del Piero celly? Insane."
"He smiled, right?"
"Like he passed the torch."
10:12 – Sky Italia: The Chosen One
Enzo sat back on the couch, watching the Sky Italia sports panel.
A debate raged onscreen.
"Is Enzo Sky Vito the future face of Serie A?"
"Forget future — he's already here."
Clips of his performance vs. Juve played again.
The nutmeg. The curl. The celebration.
They broke it down like art critics at the Uffizi.
Enzo cracked a smile. Not from arrogance — from understanding.
He wasn't chasing the spotlight.
The spotlight had finally caught up to him.
11:44 – Fashion Week, Brotherhood & Cameras
Rafael Leão honked twice outside in his all-black Maserati.
They were late for Milan Fashion Week – Off-White Show.
Both wore matching YSL street-tailored suits — black with red inner lining, subtle nods to AC Milan.
The cameras LOVED them.
Photos. Flashes. Screams.
"ENZO! ENZO! THIS WAY!"
"RAFA! SMILE FOR VOGUE!"
The two strutted like they owned the cobblestone runway.
Backstage, they laughed with stylists and swapped boots for Jordans.
Rafael teased him:
"You're officially the face of Milan, bro. I'm just your bodyguard."
"Nah," Enzo smirked, "we're the duo they didn't expect. They wanted fashion icons, we gave them football gods."
14:22 – Lunch at Cova
Montenapoleone
Their usual spot.
The waiters greeted them like royalty. Other diners nodded — whispers trailing like perfume.
They ordered penne arrabbiata and insalata di rucola. And water — always water.
Across the table, they talked more about vibes than tactics.
"I feel it, Rafa," Enzo said. "I'm not just playing anymore. I'm performing."
"Because now they listen. When we touch the ball, it's music."
"Exactly. That's why I train harder than ever. I want to be symphony, not solo."
16:39 – Nike HQ, Milan Branch
Enzo entered the showroom like it was a playground.
Nike execs greeted him in suits, smiling wide.
A custom Enzo Sky Vito x Nike boot was already in early design.
He walked through the gallery of Air Zooms, stopping at his own.
"Can we add gold trim? Like opera curtains?"
"Absolutely."
"Also, make the studs faster. I want to feel like I'm running on rhythm."
18:00 – Back at Casa Sky Vito
Sunset over Milan bathed his apartment in amber.
Enzo sat on the floor, stretching, scrolling social.
Instagram:
📸 Photo of him and Leão from the Off-White runway.
Caption:
From San Siro to fashion week. Milan made us. #RossaNeraForever"
Twitter buzzed.
Fabrizio Romano had tweeted:
"Enzo Sky Vito's new contract makes him the highest-paid young player in Serie A.
Deal valid until 2025. Total baller. 🇮🇹🔥"
He didn't retweet it. He just smiled.
20:15 – Final Look at the City
From the rooftop, he could see the San Siro lights flickering in the far distance.
Not a match night — but it still glowed.
He pulled his AC Milan jacket tighter. The wind whispered of games to come. Of trophies not yet lifted. Of goals not yet scored.
He wasn't chasing history.
He was writing it, brick by brick, stitch by stitch — with boots, with style, with soul.