Victoria and Pablo meet by chance when she has to interview him after the Nations League final 2023.
He's immediately infatuated by her, but due to a few years age difference, she only sees him as a younger friend.
Will he make it out of the friendz...
"Aurora! Can you hear me?" I shouted into my phone after a sleepless night, all my thoughts circling around my now injured boyfriend. He had gotten back to Barcelona and was undergoing more tests today to determine the full extent of his injury. He was in tears as he called me yesterday on his way to the airport but I hadn't heard much from him since. He was with representatives from Barcelona, his agent and his father and I didn't want to bombard him with calls and messages and look like a crazy girlfriend in front of them. "Vicky?" I heard her on the other side of the phone. "Yes! Yes! Any news? Any updates?" I asked. "Not yet, we're on our way to see him, Dad's already there. He's walking on crutches which apparently is a good sign in that case? Vicky, he's so..., this is the worst thing that has ever happened to him" she said, sounding on the verge of tears. "Fuck, ok, listen... There's a thing where I have to go that I can't cancel but I should get back tomorrow evening or Wednesday morning, then I'll tell my boss that I have to get back and I hope to be in Barcelona by the end of the week, latest" I brabbled. "The end of the week?! He's crying all the time, he needs you!" she almost shouted. "I'm sorry Aurora, I'm trying my best! I know you're all used to your lives revolving around his career but I'm not used to it... yet! It's not like I'm on a fun holiday in the Bahamas and now pissed that I have to miss out on lazy days laying in the sun, I'm standing below fighter jets in a war zone here!" I shouted, angered by her attitude. I know she was only worried about her brother, but still, I'm trying my best over here. "Yeah, yeah... I'll keep you updated as best as I can" she mumbled. "Don't tell him I'm coming, I want it to be a surprise... I don't think he would want to feel as if he pressured me into coming back" I said quietly. "Fine" she sighed and hung up. I wanted to throw my phone at the wall.
All of this had to happen of course on the maybe most important day of *my* career, where I was leaving to chase a story not many would be able to tell. To say that I was nervous as hell, was an understatement. I was standing in my one-room-flat, scanning my surroundings and I had to focus. The quicker I got over with this, the quicker I could be by Pablo's side.
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📍 Barcelona, Catalunya, España Tagged: pablogavi vicky.hernandez 💙❤️
chiara2203 😭😭😭 kike_hrnndz todos con gavi 🫶🏼 _ferminlopez 🥺🥺🥺 clairecollins Stay strong! Praying for a good recovery! Hope you're doing well in the ME ❤️
So I shifted my thoughts to evaluating what to take with me and what to wear for my short undercover "mission". Ultimately, I decided on a pair of black skinny jeans, Pablo's Spain jersey he had given me in Norway for a bit of extra luck and to feel him close, under an old Abercrombie hoodie. I was going to be completely veiled over that anyways, so I better stay comfortable.
My phone was stuffed into my jeans' back pocket and I hastily put some banknotes into my front pocket to pay the driver, who would be smuggling me straight into ISIS territory tonight. I took a deep breath and drank a glass of water before I pulled out my iPhone and sent a message to Pablo:
Vicky - Israel ❤️ I love you so much Losing service soon, but I'll text you when I get it back You are the best thing that ever happened to me Stay strong, we will get through this and everything together
He was probably still at the medical center so I didn't expect a response. I clicked on the photo app in my gallery and scrolled through pictures of Pablo and me, my family and my friends. I stopped on a picture with Chiara, Irene and Ana, taken in Ibiza this year - I prayed that everything would work out smoothly and that I would see them all again. Fuck, poor Ana, she couldn't lose yet another person she loved. I hoped that she was alright back at home and had become friends with Pablo and his boys. It was hard to get her out of her self-defensive shell.
Suddenly, the photo disappeared and a call from Pablo was shown instead, I immediately picked up. "Hello?" I asked agitatedly - he had probably just gotten out of his medical tests. But I heard nothing. "Hi? Pablo? Can you hear me?" I asked again and when I had no answer I looked at the service bars on the right top angle of my screen. Only one, fuck. And even that one was gone in the next few seconds, as well as the call. I tried everything, activating and de-activating flight mode for at least fifty times, then I switched off the whole phone and on again, but nothing, service was cut off. Fuck.
I was nervous the whole rest of the afternoon, but at some point, after a glance at the time display, I saw that it was time for me to get going. I prayed that everything would be alright.
It was a 45-minute walk to the next town, where I would meet my ride. When I arrived, the guy was already waiting and talking to another man. "Hey, you must be the journalist" this other man said and extended his hand, which I shook. "I am, and you are?" I asked. "Pierre. I'm a doctor for Doctors Without Borders. Our supplies are shrinking and there's a black market over there where I may find useful things" he explained and I nodded my head. "It's only you two tonight, so we can get going" Amir, the driver said, and we nodded, making our way into the loading area of the small van as it was dawning.
"Let's hope everything goes well, I've heard that the ISIS guys are more tense now with the situation in Gaza. Apparently they're using the momentum to gear up, now that the attention isn't on them." Pierre sighed and I started biting my nails. Joe's friend Bruce from the CIA had told me the exact same thing yesterday evening, in an attempt to make me back out, but I had already made up my mind and decided to go. "What made you come here?" I asked, turning this into an interview to make time go by faster and possibly use the information for my article. He gulped and stared into nothing for a while, he didn't seem to want to answer, but ultimately decided to anyways: "My wife died unexpectedly. Breast cancer, everything went so fast. And I didn't have anyone anymore, my parents are long dead and as a doctor I had very few friends as I was working all the time. So if something happens, no one will miss me." His answer made me get a headache. I had everything and yet, decided to leave, not caring how the people I left behind would feel. "You're feeling bad now, huh?" he chuckled, having seen right through me. "Don't. You're doing an important job, don't belittle that fact." he said and smiled, hoping to make me feel better. "I read about your boyfriend by the way, everybody kind of knows here, I'm very sorry..." he added and I sighed. "Thanks, I hope to be back in Barcelona the day after tomorrow, Thursday latest. He needs me... this is the worst he could be going through as an athlete" I said quietly. "He's 19. As a doctor I can only say that is the 'best' age for something like that. His body hasn't even stopped growing yet - he will heal and recover much faster than others. If he was thirty I'd say he'll probably never be the same again, but if he stays strong mentally he can come back even better than before." he replied and that gave me a bit of hope.
The drive felt endless and I looked at my watch, it was already 11pm. Suddenly, the van stopped and Pierre and I looked at each other with confused faces. Had we arrived? But I started panicking when I heard loud voices shouting in Arab - no... we had been busted. The door of the trunk was opened and we were blinded by torchlights that were being pointed at our faces. There was more Arab shouting and at one point, I felt a hand on my upper arm dragging me out of the van. I gathered all my strength and tried to wiggle myself free, but it was hopeless, the man holding me had a firm grip and just laughed at my attempts.
Pierre was also being held, although it took two guys to clutch him as he was undoubtedly stronger than me. Our driver was faced with an angry guy who had a balaclava and kaffiyeh on. Amir was punched and slapped in front of our eyes as the guy was shouting more and more stuff at him. My eyes welled up and I cried out loud, but the guy behind me was quick to cover my mouth and I was quiet again. Suddenly, they guy beating Amir pulled out a gun, pointed it at his head and pulled the trigger. When I heard the shot I shouted "NO! NO! HELP!" but seriously, who was I trying to reach? We were in the middle of nowhere and it was just me and Pierre against ten terrorists. I cried and cried and shouted and shouted, I was panicking inside. The guy holding me was losing his patience and suddenly, I felt something hit my head before everything went black around me.
