A Bet That Changed Us ︱Pablo Gavi

50: Up his ass

Isabella's Pov

The energy at the stadium was electric as Barcelona faced off against Celta Vigo. The sun was bright, and the crowd's roar created a backdrop of tension and excitement. I was stationed on the pitch, working as usual, keeping a close eye on the players and being ready to assist as needed.

Pablo was out there, focused and determined. I could tell he was giving it his all, but there was something different about his demeanor today. He seemed more agitated than usual, and it wasn't long before I noticed why.

One of Celta Vigo's players, a tall, aggressive forward, had taken it upon himself to get under Pablo's skin. From my position on the sideline, I could see the physicality and hear the snippets of the exchanges between them. It was clear that this player was not just trying to challenge Pablo physically but was also taunting him verbally. The referee was either too far away or too absorbed in the play to notice the full extent of the provocation.

Despite the noise of the crowd, I could see the tension building between them. Pablo tried to brush it off at first, focusing on the game, but the constant harassment was clearly getting to him. His frustration was mounting, and every time the Celta player came near, I could see Pablo's muscles tighten, his jaw clench.

In the 35th minute, things reached a boiling point. I watched as the Celta player made another jibe, pushing Pablo slightly as he went for the ball. Pablo, clearly fed up, spun around and shoved the Celta player. The push was enough to draw the attention of the referee, who immediately blew the whistle and marched over to issue a yellow card to Pablo.

I saw Pablo's face flush with frustration and anger as he threw his hands up, visibly protesting the decision. His teammates tried to calm him down, but the damage was done. The yellow card was a clear sign of how the pressure and provocation had affected him. It was a harsh reminder of how quickly things could escalate on the pitch, and I could see the frustration etched on Pablo's face.

As the first half drew to a close, I tried to maintain my focus on my duties, but my concern for Pablo lingered. I knew how much he was struggling with everything off the pitch, and seeing him lose his cool like this was a painful reminder of the pressure he was under.

When the halftime whistle blew, I watched as Pablo trudged off the pitch, his body language defeated. He barely looked at the bench, his eyes cast downward. The Celta player continued to taunt him, even as he walked off, and I saw Pablo clench his fists, trying to regain his composure.

I wanted to go over and offer some words of encouragement, but I knew it wasn't the right time. Instead, I waited until the teams had gone into the locker rooms before approaching the sideline. I could see the tension still hanging in the air, and the coaches were having a heated discussion about the game.

The second half was sure to be a test of not only Barcelona's skill but also Pablo's ability to control his emotions. I hoped that he would find a way to channel his frustration into a stronger performance and not let the earlier incident affect his game further.

As the game continued, I focused on doing my job, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Pablo. I knew how much he was battling, both on and off the field. Seeing him struggle with the provocation was a reminder of how challenging things were for him right now.

I could only hope that the second half would bring some relief and that Pablo would find a way to overcome the obstacles in his path, both from the opposing team and within himself

Pablo's pOV

I was trying to keep my head in the game, pushing past the constant taunting from that Celta Vigo player, but it was getting harder. Every time he came near me, he made some kind of comment that I could barely ignore. I had tried my best to keep my focus, but it was like he was deliberately trying to break me down.