Not a crush (Pedri)

Chapter One

Elena's POV

I come back from the break room, holding a cup of coffee that's almost burning my hands, ready to write this stupid article I've been told to do. I guess no one else could be asked to waste their time on it so they gave it to the intern. Fun.

"All those years in uni to end up doing this", I mutter, annoyed. "I'm never going to be taken seriously".

"What are you talking about?"

"This article I have to do".

My colleague Jordi moves his chair closer to mine to peek at my computer screen.

"You know that we can't use the computers for personal stuff, right?"

"Huh?"
"Why are you looking at photos of shirtless Pedri? Got a crush?"

Of course, that would be his reaction. I put my head on the table, frustrated. No one takes me seriously and how will they start to when I find myself writing these types of articles?

"Shut up! I have to do an article about the evolution of his body in the last couple of years".

"That's cool".

"It's stupid!"

"I've done worse when I was an intern. Don't be so negative. At least you're given stuff to do. The last few interns left feeling like they learned nothing".

I guess he's got a point and it could be worse. And I do not have a crush but...there are worse ways to spend a Tuesday afternoon than looking at photos of a cute player. Actually, I've sort of been given an excuse to stare at his body, which has definitely changed in the last couple of years. He was a little twink when he signed for Barça. And it's not as if he's got massive muscles like other players have now but...yeah, he's changed. I can't say I visit the gym often but I like that others do especially when this is the result of their gym sessions.

I shake my head, trying to clear my mind so I can concentrate. The article won't make me win any awards but I have to take it seriously. And it actually ends up taking a good chunk of my day to get it done, despite me being a fast writer. Between getting the right photos and videos to accompany it and asking for permission to use them, the actual writing and my colleagues' stupid comments about it, it isn't as easy to get it done as I first thought.

I read it a few times before sending it to the editor and once he's happy with it, it's posted on the newspaper's website for everyone to read. So many people are writing about this same topic, I doubt my article would get much attention. But I'm happy with the result and that's what matters. I guess.

"Time to go home", I say and everyone who's still there waves goodbye while their faces are still glued to their computer screens. "See you tomorrow".

By the time I make it home, my parents and a few of my friends have already read the article and are sending messages to me about it. They're so cute. They've got notifications on so they know whenever I post something new. And they are always so enthusiastic about it, no matter what topic I write about.

"God, it's so hot".

The summer heat is unbearable in Barcelona so I just make a salad for dinner. And while I eat it, I check social media. Barça has posted yet another photo showing Pedri's arms. These people are truly obsessed. And I guess I'm not that much better because I've been staring at it for 5 minutes. I'll blame those sleeveless tops. And the heat. It's melting my brain.

**

One of the first things I do the next day when I make it to the office is draft the social media posts to share the link to my article. I always give it a couple of hours between the newspaper's social media team doing it themselves and my posts, so it can get a second wave of people finding out about it.