A Bet That Changed Us ︱Pablo Gavi

2

Isabella's pov

The first day at FC Barcelona was everything I had imagined and more. The training grounds were a hive of activity, with players, coaches.

I arrived early, determined to make a good impression. As I walked through the entrance, my nerves kicked in, but I pushed them aside. This was my moment, and I wasn't going to let anything get in the way of my confidence. I made my way to the medical wing, where I was introduced to the team of physiotherapists I would be working with. They were a group with years of experience between them, and while they were welcoming, I could sense that they expected me to prove myself.

The head of the department, Dr. Ruiz, took me aside to go over the day's schedule. "You'll be observing for the first week," he explained. "Get a feel for how we operate, learn the routines, and familiarize yourself with the players' needs. After that, you'll start taking on more responsibilities."

I nodded, taking in everything he said. I was eager to get started, but I knew that gaining their trust and respect would take time. The morning passed quickly as I followed Dr. Ruiz, watching how he and the other physios interacted with the players. The attention to detail was incredible—every player had a personalized plan, fitted to their specific needs and injury history. 

By the afternoon, I was feeling more comfortable, though the weight of the responsibility that came with the job was starting to sink in. These weren't just any footballers; they were some of the best footballers in the world. The thought was both exiting and intimidating.

As I walked through the training ground, I found myself in awe of the players. Seeing them up close was different from watching them on TV or even from the stands. Here, they were just people focused, driven, but also human, with their own personalities. I was introduced to a few of them in passing, and while they were friendly, I could tell that they were used to the constant flow of new staff and didn't pay me much mind. it was fine by me, I was here to do a job, not to seek attention.

the days followed, the work was demanding, but I loved every minute of it. Each day brought new challenges, and I was constantly learning, both from my colleagues and from the players themselves.

I immersed in the fast-paced world of professional football after being chosen as FC Barcelona's intern physiotherapist. I was getting to know one another, picking up new habits, and adjusting to the high standards the club expects. I grew despite the pressure, I put my love for Barcelona and physiotherapy into all I did.

My days began early, often before sunrise, when the training grounds were still wrapped in the cool embrace of dawn. I'd arrive at the facility, the distant sound of the groundskeepers starting their work greeting me each morning. I'd head straight to the medical wing, where I'd prepare for the day's sessions—setting up equipment, reviewing notes on the players' conditions, and mentally gearing up for the demanding schedule ahead.

Working with the team's senior physiotherapists was both a privilege and a challenge. They had years of experience and a wealth of knowledge, and while they were supportive, they also had high expectations. 

One day, during a training session, I was called to assist with a minor injury. I grabbed my kit, heading out to the field where the players were in the middle of an intense session. As I approached, I saw a small group gathered around a player who was sitting on the grass, his expression a mix of frustration and discomfort. As I walked closer to the player in need, I realized it was none other than Pablo Gavi, one of the most promising young talents on the team. He had twisted his ankle slightly during a drill, and while it wasn't serious, the medical staff wanted to ensure he was fully fit for the upcoming match. He was still able to walk so me and one of the elder physios took him to the side of the pitch. 

"Let me take a look," I said, kneeling beside him. Gavi looked up as I introduced myself, and I could see the frustration in his eyes.

"It's not too bad," he said, his voice hinting with impatience. "Just a bit of a twist."

"Better to be safe than sorry," I replied, carefully taking a look at his ankle. 

Using my typical composed professionalism, I assessed the damage, applied ice, and gave him a few massages. Pablo, who is known for his charm and humor, attempted to lighten the situation with a few jokes probably to ease the tension, but I kept my attention on my task. I mean, this was my ideal job, and I wasn't going to let anything, not even a great player for the team, get in the way of me.

But I couldn't help but notice that Pablo was focusing on me more than I had anticipated.

After a few minutes, I was sure that it was just a small sprain. "You should be good to go," I said, standing up. "please take it easy for the rest of the session. I don't want to risk it making the sprain worse."

 "thanks, Isabella. He said, "I'll see you around."

I nodded politely, feeling a slight flutter in my chest but quickly dismissing it. I was here to do a job, not to get caught up in the glamour of footballers.

Pablo's Pov

I couldn't help but look at Isabella while she was assessing me, she was focused on her job, I cannot deny that she's pretty, she has the long healthy dark brown hair anyone could wish for, her eyes under her thick black eyelashes were a mix of green and brown, the way her plump lips looked and how full her eyebrows were.

As she dismissed me, I quicky said goodbye and jogged back to the pitch where everyone else was.

I had no idea that my friends had been observing the conversation. They included Pedri, ansu, Balde, Lamine a few other growing talents. As the squad separated after training later that evening, they started making jokes about my conversation with Isabella in the changing room.

"You seemed pretty interested in the new physio," I heard Pedri remark with a smirk. "Think you've got a chance?" 

I quickly played it cool and shrugged. "she's just doing her job, Man."

But my friends weren't about to let it go. "Come on, Gavi," Ansu chimed in, "I bet you couldn't get her to fall in love for you in under a month."

The room erupted in laughter, and I rolled my eyes, though I was a bit curious "What do I get if I win?" I asked, playing along.

 "If you win," Pedri said, "we'll give you 2000 euros totally. But if you lose, you've got to do the ice bucket challenge, right after a match. "I chuckled, considering the bet.

 I seemed confident, but there was something that suggested that Isabella wasn't like most girls who were easily swayed by my fame. That made the challenge even more interesting for me . "Alright," I finally agreed, "you're on."

 It was just a bet and if I won, I would earn an extra 2000 euros, nothing wrong with that right? Don't get me wrong, Isabella is a nice, kindhearted, beautiful girl that has her goals set for her future, and that seems to be the problem.

The bet was set, and from that moment on, I began seeking for opportunities to cross paths with Isabella. I started by casually striking up conversations during my physiotherapy sessions, asking her about her interests and why she chose this career. I made sure to look genuinely interested in what she had to say, not just trying to impress her with my fame.