ANGELO | Pablo Gavi English version

Chapter 4

August 10

After seeing the entire barça squad reluctantly thanks to Ferran, I return with Sira to the box, and I realized that Gabi has already arrived.

"Where were you?" he asks.

Your friend Ferran, I've gone downstairs.

"Uuu," she says. Was anyone handsome?

Gabi, I scream.

What? What? Everyone there is handsome.

"Let's not deny it," adds Sira. Ferran, Pedri, Nico, Ansu, Eric... all handsome. And what do you tell me about Gavi? In addition, it is your age.

There begins a conversation between Gabriella and Sira about how handsome Gavi is. And, the worst, that they don't keep quiet about it until the boys go out to warm up. But it only lasts the seconds in which the fans applaud, then they return to the subject.

The match ends with a Blaugrana victory. A 3–2 in favor of Xavi's team. With a penalty goal from Memphis and another from Pedri at the end of the game. I haven't been on the field for a long time, but come on, I don't think it will take long to get back. I love the fans, how they sing and encourage their team through thick and thin. It's the best.

Ferron says to go to a party. "Are you coming?" asks Sira, leaving the box.

We both nod and head towards the nightclub that the Valencian has told Sira.

We entered the place. It's incredibly hot. Gabi and I follow Sira, who is on the phone, listening to Ferran's instructions. We arrived at the reserved and I see that the whole staff is watching us.

Among the soccer players, there are also some of their couples.

My friend gives us a general presentation.

I'm going to the bar and I'm asking for the usual.

"A Malibu with Pineapple," I say to the waiter.

It may be something basic, but I always drink the same thing when I go out with Gabi.

PABLO

The heat in the disco isn't even normal. It is not the first time that we are going to celebrate a victory at this place, on the outskirts of Cornellá. As far as I know the place quite well, I go through the corridor where the doors are to enter the bathrooms. I'll go to the last one and open it. Not without first making sure that no one follows me. I want to be alone for a while. In addition, all those in the reserved will be drunk.

I get to the roof and sigh. I sit in the middle of the roof and sigh again. The views apart from Barcelona are beautiful from here.

I'm looking at the horizon for a long time and thinking about today's game, when I hear the door open. I turn to see who he is.

"Oh," says Giorgia, who is clearly rosy. It looks like it's a little drunk. I was looking for the bathroom, but I see that it's not here.

I sit down and she sits next to me.

"How beautiful," he says, looking at the distant buildings.

I sit down and walk through part of his body with my eyes. He no longer wears the purple t-shirt that we have signed in the locker room, but has replaced it with a tight black top. He has his ears with several piercings and a tattoo on the neck of a colorless rose. It has a golden necklace with a heart. Under his gaze to his hands, in which he wears several rings.

"Pablo," he says, calling my attention.

He is one of the first people who does not address me like Gavi.

-Yes?

Why do people call you Gavi and not by your name? Pablo. It's beautiful.

I don't know. It just came up and that's it. Do you want to play the questions? - he asked. I want to get to know her better and this is the perfect game.

Nod.

"Your accent is not from here," she says.

I'm from Seville. Although I came here when I was younger. Your name isn't from here either.

My family is from Milan. My uncle and grandmother have been here for many years, we like seven or eight. We came when - he says, but he cuts himself, as if he didn't want to finish the sentence.

You don't need to tell me. I understand that it's private - I mean, so that she doesn't feel pressured to tell me anything familiar that she doesn't want to tell me.

We keep chatting and I'm discovering things and Gigi's tastes. That's how he asked me to call her.

I still don't understand it. How can you like mint ice cream? Is it toothpaste? - she asks, indignant.

"You put onion on the tortilla," I counterattack.

She puts on an offended face and laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. I watch her, while her laughter infects me and we both end up laughing as much as we can.

"What time is it?" I ask.

She takes her phone out of the pocket of the black shorts she wears and unlocks it.

Five o'clock in the morning.

Do you want to go see the sunrise?