A Bet That Changed Us ︱Pablo Gavi

24: A Glimpse of Jealousy?

Isabella's Pov

The match against Athletic Bilbao was intense from the start. The energy at San Mamés was electric, with the home crowd roaring for their team. Despite the pressure, Barcelona came out strong, determined to secure a win.

From the sidelines, I could feel the tension. The players moved with precision, their focus evident in every pass and tackle. As the first half progressed, it was clear that both teams were evenly matched. Bilbao's defense was tight, and they pressed high, making it difficult for our midfield to find space.

But Barcelona was patient, waiting for the right moment to strike. Just before halftime, Pedri found a gap in the defense, threading a perfect pass to Lamine Yamal, who had been making darting runs down the right wing. Lamine took a touch, cut inside, and curled a beautiful shot into the far corner. The away fans erupted in celebration, and the players gathered to congratulate the young star.

At halftime, the mood in the locker room was confident, but everyone knew the job was only half done. Pablo and I stayed in the stands during the break, sharing a quiet moment before the second half began. He was visibly tense, his hands gripping the railing as he watched his teammates.

The second half started with Bilbao pushing harder, eager to equalize. Barcelona's defense, led by Araujo, stood firm, blocking shots and intercepting passes. ter Stegen made a couple of crucial saves to keep the lead intact.

Then, disaster struck. Frenkie de Jong went down after a hard challenge, clutching his leg in pain. The referee immediately stopped play, and I rushed onto the pitch, my heart racing. Frenkie's face was contorted in agony, and I knew it was serious. After a quick assessment, it was clear he wouldn't be able to continue. We signaled for a stretcher, and as I walked him off the pitch, I could feel the weight of the situation.

Despite the setback, the team remained focused. Xavi made a few tactical adjustments, bringing on fresh legs to keep up the pressure. With only ten minutes left, Barcelona secured their victory. Gavi, showing his usual grit, won the ball in midfield and drove forward. He played a quick one-two with Ferran Torres, who had come on as a substitute, before sliding the ball across the box to Lewandowski. The striker made no mistake, calmly slotting the ball past the Bilbao goalkeeper.

The final whistle blew, and Barcelona had won 2-0. The players celebrated on the pitch, their joy evident after such a hard-fought match. Pablo and I made our way down to join the team, the tension from earlier replaced by relief and happiness.

After the game, the team decided to head to a local club to celebrate the victory. It was a chance to unwind after the intense match and enjoy each other's company before heading back to Barcelona the next day. The club was lively, filled with music and laughter. The players danced, joked, and enjoyed the moment, basking in the glow of their win.

As the night carried on, the euphoria from the win against Bilbao filled the club. The music was loud, the lights dim, and the atmosphere electric. I felt light and happy as I danced with Pablo, the thrill of the game still fresh in our minds. We were surrounded by his teammates, all of whom were in high spirits, laughing and celebrating the victory.

After a few songs, I decided to get us some drinks, leaving Pablo near the dance floor. The bar was crowded, but I managed to push through, ordering our drinks. When I turned around, drinks in hand, I saw something that made my heart sink.

Pablo was standing at the bar, but he wasn't alone. A girl I didn't recognize was beside him, and she was clearly flirting. Her body was angled toward him, her hand resting lightly on his arm as she leaned in, smiling up at him. I couldn't hear what they were saying over the music, but I didn't need to. Her intentions were obvious.