Forced Than Loved ★ Pablo Gavi

₃.₃

★☆★☆★

Visators from Barcalona

★☆★☆★

Time really does fly when you are enjoying your time doing something. That's exactly what's happening to me while I'm in Madrid. It feels like just yesterday that we arrived, wide-eyed and eager, and now, here we are, five months in, halfway through filming. The city has become a second home, its streets familiar, its rhythm now in sync with mine. I never imagined I would feel this comfortable in a place so far from home, but somehow, Madrid has embraced me, wrapping me in its golden sunsets and late-night laughter.

I am so happy with how the movie is progressing. Yesterday, we managed to shoot the main plot, a milestone that felt surreal. Every scene brought new challenges, but they only made me love the process more. The set was alive with energy, the crew buzzing with excitement. And then there was Lilly, always there, always making it better. It's strange how work doesn't feel like work when she's around. Between takes, we would exchange inside jokes, our laughter echoing through the set, making even the most exhausting moments feel light.

Today is a rare day off, and I welcomed it with open arms. The apartment, however, was another story. My room was an absolute disaster, clothes piled up, scripts scattered, and my desk buried under layers of neglect. It felt good to slow down, to focus on something as simple as cleaning. Lilly, of course, agreed to a lazy day. She's probably curled up in her room, scrolling endlessly through TikToks, occasionally giggling at something ridiculous and saving a dozen videos to send me later. I'd open maybe one or two, just to humor her, but we both knew I'd ignore most of them. It was our thing.

As I folded a stray hoodie, my eyes flickered to my phone. It was past noon, and that was when Pablo usually called. But the screen remained dark, void of his name lighting up as it normally would. My notifications were filled with Tina's updates—little bursts of information that I barely processed, and, of course, Lilly's endless links to TikToks. But no Pablo.

It was strange. He always called. Without thinking, I dialed his number. Once. Twice. Three times. Each ring echoed in my ears, stretching out longer than it should, amplifying the quiet. No answer. I sighed, placing the phone down, trying not to let the unease creep in.

But the truth was, I missed him. More than I let myself admit.

Two hours had passed, and the weight of the quiet in my room had started to press down on me. The absence of Pablo's call lingered in the back of my mind, but I shook it off. My room was finally clean, a small victory, and now, all I wanted was to sink into the comfort of Lilly's bed and let her ridiculous TikTok recommendations distract me for a while.

Pushing open her door, I flopped onto the bed beside her with a dramatic sigh. "Hey, Lills," I mumbled, burying my face into her comforter. The scent of her vanilla-scented fabric softener was oddly soothing.

She barely looked up from her phone, humming in response as her thumb continued its rhythmic scrolling. The screen illuminated her face, flickering through an endless stream of videos. I caught a glimpse of one, clips from our older movies, spliced with over-the-top edits and trending audio.

"I haven't heard much chatter in your room," she remarked suddenly, turning her head slightly to look at me. "Pablo called?"

My stomach twisted a little at the mention of his name. I forced a small shrug, playing it off. "Nope. He hasn't called or answered any of my calls," I admitted, trying not to let the disappointment seep into my voice. "So, I finished cleaning and figured I'd come to chill with you instead." I flashed her a smile, and she giggled, turning her attention back to her phone.