𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍, pablo gavi

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙚, isabel

❝ my mind turns your life into folklore. ❞
⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

For the past few years, the only people who have known about my anxiety are Pedri and Olive. Now, Pablo also knows.

I'd say I've hidden it pretty well over the years. I always take my medication when I have to. I didn't want people to look at me with pity in their eyes.

I wanted to make it on my own. I wanted to become who I am today without saying, if only I didn't have a mental disorder I could've been someone else.

I wanted to prove to myself that If I wanted to, I could. And I did it. I'm twenty one years old. I have five albums with more than a billion listens. I've won sixteen Grammys, two hundred fifty six awards in total. I am the youngest person to ever compose the world cup song. And I have a clothing brand with my best friend.

I'd say I'm pretty successful. I have worked my whole life. I've been tired my whole life. But, it paid off.

Pedri left earlier. He asked for my permission before going over to Pablo and explaining what happened. Two months ago I would've slapped him for even asking that. Now, I was about to explain it to Pablo if not him.

I changed into my pajamas and decided to go to bed early. I could say I've had a long day. I brushed my teeth, took my pills, removed my make up and slipped into bed.

Pablito was already asleep on my bed. I still can't believe I actually have a dog now. A dog that Pablo Gavi got me.

I turned on the tv and some cop show was on. I wasn't really interested but I just wanted some background. I fell asleep in seconds.

· • • •·

I hate waking up. I just want to stay in bed all day and binge watch friends or something while eating lots and lots of chocolate.

But, I can't. I have to get up and go to rehearsal. Once Pablito notices I'm awake, he rushes over to me and licks me all over my face.

I spend the next few minutes just cuddling him and playing with him before getting the energy to get out of bed.

I head to the bathroom and get undressed for a quick shower since I was too tired to take one last night.

I showered, dried my hair, applied my make up and am now heading over to my suitcase to decide what to wear for my first official rehearsal of my song.

I stare at the suitcase for a couple seconds before the outfit clicks in my head and I grab the clothing pieces I have in mind.

I decide to go with a pair of black flared leggings and a white crop top. It's a super basic outfit but we're just rehearsing. I also grab a purple varsity jacket that reads 'SOUR' on the back from my first album.

I love the color purple by the way.

I put on my pair of completely white air forces completing the full basic outfit.

I still have fifteen minutes to spare before I have to leave. I sit back down on the bed and turn on the tv. I search through the channels but nothing really peeks my interest.

I take my phone out instead and scroll through it waiting for the time to pass. Olive sent me a link to some dumb tiktok of two cats fighting over a rat.

I hear the doorbell ring and so I head to the door and open it. "I have a question." Pablo asks the second I open the door insert of a hello. I guess we've become at that point.

"Shoot." I tell him not bothering to ask where his hello flew.

"Is coffee actually good for you?" At least he's trying to be careful for my health I guess. And that's why I never told people. I didn't want them to act differently around me.

"We're going to have to set some ground rules." I say before walking back to my bed but snatching the cup of coffee away from his hand. "One, coffee is my savior. Do not ever question it." I start and he closes my door and comes into the room behind me. "But, also don't let me drink more than two cups a day." I mumble the last part, just incase. "Two, do not ever look at me with pity. Just look at me the way you did the first time you ever saw me. Not knowing I was fucked up in the head." Yeah, I don't really take my mental health seriously, I prefer to joke about it.

"I looked at you with pity the first time I saw you." He comments. "I just broke your project. You were about to cry."

"The second time you saw me then." I try to solve his stupid issue.

"I also looked at you with pity." Is he freaking kidding me? "I just won the science fair when I knew yours was way better and you could've won but I ruined your project."

I look at him with a seriously? expression. "Don't look at me ever again then." I say with my dead serious tone.

"I can't do that." He admits and I ask why with my eyes. "You're too beautiful."

I hate the way his words affect me. Because I can literally feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. "Stop it." I mutter, standing up from the bed and heading towards wherever just so he can't see me blushing and get his ego up.

"Okay, three," I get back to the main subject. "Never, ever, tell anyone about my lovely fucked up illness." I scream from the toilet as if I'm doing something in there.

I wait a couple seconds for my cheeks to calm down before heading back. I take a dramatic deep breath before opening the door again and heading out.

"Understood?" I walk around the room grabbing my stuff since I realized if I don't leave in the next three minutes I'll probably be late.

"Understood." He complies.

"Now, I have to leave or else I'll be late." I say as I search for my key card which I can't seem to find.

"Searching for this?" I hear his voice and get back up from searching under the bed. I see him holding my keycard in his hands. Before I could even ask he answers, "On the edge of the desk." Who else other than me wouldn't see something that's right in front of me?

"Thank you." I thank before heading to the door with him following me.

I walk out of there and head to the elevator and he closes my bedroom door behind him and heading to his. I press the button for the elevator and it opens up immediately. Lucky me.

I get in and press to the ground floor and before the doors could close I speak up one last time. "You're still not forgiven for destroying my project!" I just catch a glimpse of him chuckling before the doors close.