Change of Location - Pedri González

xi. attention

***

From: Palmero

Palmero: I still can't believe you ditched me :(
Me: wdym "ditched you"
Me: i had to WORK
Me: would much rather be at the game than serving alcohol to creepy adults
Palmero: it still counts as ditching
Palmero: i am here in russia and YOU ARE NOT
Palmero: how else am i going to beat link in mario kart💔💔💔
Me: i am very sorry i couldn't give you that satisfaction Pedri💔💔💔💔
Me: i have student debt that must be paid off💔
Palmero: i could snap my fingers and all that debt would be gone
Me: so kind of you to volunteer, Palmero
Palmero: i was just merely *stating* that i could
Me: that's really really sad
Palmero: no sadder than you ditching me
Me: i give up
Palmero: 😎🤙
Palmero: if we make it to the semis today
Me: *if*
Me: not if, pedri, you WILL
Palmero: ok fine. WHEN we make it to the semis today... would you be open to coming to wembley to watch?
Palmero: plz say ur not working
Me: i am working... but i can see what i can do
Me: let me coming to the semis be ur motivation to get INTO the semis 💙
Palmero: I'm holding you to that
Me: good luck against switzerland today💙
Palmero: gracias ☺️
Palmero: enjoy paying off your student debt 💙

***

Sophia was leaning on the wooden countertop of the bar, eyes trained on the television hanging up high at the corner wall of the room.

Switzerland versus Spain was playing, and the game had gone to extra time.

Again.

"I'll take two pints of beer, por favor," Sophia's latest customer requested, an arm on the bar opposite from her. Scheduled for bartending in her dad's restaurant today, Sophia had no choice but to watch her country play from the large televisions hanging up within the premise. It was almost five, so yet to get very busy, however a couple of groups had came in to have a meal and a drink over the game playing in the background. The customer who'd came up to her bar, a man similar age to her father, adds with a sigh, "Gonna need them in order to endure this next half hour."

Sophia chuckles in response. "Understandable. Coming right up, señor."

It had all become second nature to Sophia now. She's grown up around her dad's restaurant and even despite the many changes the place has had over the years, the way the pint glass must be tilted as you pour from the taps has never changed, nor has the mechanism of balancing multiple plates on a single arm. Or the annoying policy of ensuring no strand of hair escapes it's hairdo.

(But that was more of an issue for food servers. Hygiene and all that. Sophia was a bartender today, so not as seriously tied-down.)

"Gracias, niña," the customer flashes her a grin, tipping her an extra ten euros. Yeah, this is why she loved bartending.

He went back to his table, beer in hands, and a different presence strides towards Sophia. On her side of the bar.

"I have been told to make myself useful," says Giovani De Luca, his tall figure bending to lean on the bar. "Vince told me to join you since it's so dead in front of house."

(With the quarterfinals game being played today, Vincent Diaz had a hint the night could be very popular for his restaurant. And so, he needed all hands on deck — including Gio, who he knew had an involvement with his eldest daughter in the past... but he trusted Sophia when she said she was past that past.)

"I can assure you, Gio," Sophia chuckles, "it's not any more lively back here." She frowns, trying to look for something for him to do. "Mateo's gone to get wine from the back, he's on bar with me today. I... grab a cloth, polish the champagne glasses."