see you later // Pablo Gavi

Chapter 29

𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒇 𝒘𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆.

𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐒. All those screams and autographs and people seeing my friends as their heroes. It is strange... But I get it. Because not so long ago, Gavi wasn't my crush. Pedri wasn't my friend. Lewandowski and Raphinha weren't acquaintances. There were my heroes, too. And I would have reached out to touch their clothes when they walked by and screamed their names, longing to catch their attention, too. That would have been me.

I just ran into some serious luck one night in a quiet street in Barcelona.

At the art museum, there are police, of course, keeping the guys safe from fans. It feels weird. I'm walking in the shoes of fame that they walk in every single day. The shoes that walk through screaming crowds and taped off paths. The shoes of footballers.

Only now do I really understand what Gavi means when he mentions how tiring being so famous with all these fans can really be. I feel sympathy for them. Despite how extremely well-off they are.

The art gallery is nice, and so is getting to meet Raphinha and Lewandowski more. I learn a few things- 1. Lewandowski isn't big on modern art. 2. Raphinha is handsomer in real life. 3. Raphinha talks more than I thought he would.

The whole time, Pedri is making me laugh with his silly comments, and Gavi is making me warmly smile with his shoulder bumps and quiet sugar. I'm pretty sure that the whole time, neither of us can wait for our little dinner.

I mean, art is great and all, but it's not like it is either of our passions. I'm sure we are each other's passions more than art is our passions.

At the end of the tour, we all agree that it was very good- the art was beautiful. At one painting, near the end of the tour, Gavi says something that touches my heart like a soft feather. He says it quietly, meant just for me. No one else hears it. He points to a beautiful large painting of a shining dark sky sprinkled with stars, and a soft blazing fire in a blowing meadow.

I don't know why I want to cry when he says softly, just to my ear, pointing at it, "This painting reminds me of you."

I think I want to kiss him right then and there.

I don't, though.

The whole tour, he stays by me. Walking closest to me. Staying with me the whole time. He's just the sweetest.

At the end of the tour, Pedri asks Gavi when he starts heading to another car in the parking lot, "What are you doing?"

Gavi explains, "Me and Ember are going out tonight. Just us two. I rented a car to be sent here."

"Oh?" Pedri asks, and there is something in his eyes I can't figure out. Some spark. Some knowing. A smile creeps on his face. "Where are you going?"

Gavi shifts his weight away from me slightly, glancing at the brown eyes of Raphinha and the blue of Lewandowski which are also on him, before saying, "I couldn't make it to the bar last night, and I told her I would be there... I felt... bad. So I think it will be nice to go to dinner with her tonight, no?"

Pedri is grinning. Raphinha looks slightly amused. And Lewandowski looks like a proud older brother. This whole situation greatly confuses me.

"Right, sure, makes sense," finally Raphinha says, breaking a long silence. "Anyway, shouldn't we leave them to that, then?" He turns, walking away, and Lewy and Pedri follow behind. Pedri glances back one more time, giving one of us a wink. I have no idea which one of us. Maybe both.

As we walk to the rented car, I ask Gavi, "What was that all about?"

"Dunno," Gavi says, rolling his eyes. "Pedri ships us with all his heart. And Lewandowski just thinks I should get a girlfriend, because I 'have the looks for it'. He thinks we should date. And Raphinha? He's just like that."

"Like what?"

"Oh, never mind," he shakes his head, opening the passenger seat door for me. I get in, and he goes around, getting in the driver's seat.

"Oh boy," I tease as we start driving. "Can I really trust you behind the wheel in the less familiar streets of Madrid? I hardly trust you in Barcelona, and you drive there all the time."

"My goodness, Ember, of course you can," he says, keeping his brown eyes glued to the road. "I care about you too much to get you in a car crash. I mean, you are in the death seat."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I mean, I better be in the death seat, because we wouldn't want to put your life at risk. That would be a terrible loss of talent for FC Barcelona."

He snorts at this comment. "Only the loss of my talent is a tragedy. Nothing else."

"Right, exactly," I say sarcastically. A few seconds later, though, I feel the need to add, "No, I would be torn to pieces if anything happened to you."

"Yeah, me too, that reversed. You're really important to me. You're a great, awesome friend."

Friend.

Stop it, Gavi! Don't we have these feelings?! You act like it, and then you pull out that word friend again! You act like we're practically dating! You act like you love me! You do! And then you go and friend zone me! Stop it with all these freaking mixed messages! My God! Stop freaking doing this to my darn emotions! They can't take it anymore, for God's sake! Stop it with all this!

We drive some longer in silence, and he turns on the music station. I like it. I like his music choice. That's good. We have the same taste in music, too. 

A question suddenly comes to me: "Wait, how are we going to eat at a restaurant? People are going to recognize you, won't they?"

"I already have a plan. I'll go in all covered up with a hood, mask, and sunglasses. Then I'll buy one of the private rooms in the back of the building. That is what me and Pedri always do when we go here when we're in Madrid. The extra money is worth the food."

"Oh," I smile to myself, relieved. "Okay."