Veiled Hearts | Pablo Gavi

012 disasters

The bass thumps through the floor, vibrating beneath my feet as we settle into the lounge area. The club is packed, bodies moving in sync with the music, lights flashing in a kaleidoscope of colors. The air is thick with a mix of sweat, perfume, and the faint scent of spilled drinks. It's a typical summer night in Barcelona, but the tension between Gavi and me is anything but typical.

As we find our seats, Gavi is still hovering close, his hand brushing against my waist every now and then. It's subtle, almost casual, but there's an intensity behind his touches that I can't ignore. Every time our eyes meet, there's a silent conversation happening, one I'm not sure I'm ready to have.

"Let's get some drinks," Olivia suggests, already halfway to the bar. Emil follows her, his carefree laugh cutting through the loud music. Ben hesitates for a second, glancing at me and then at Gavi, before nodding and tagging along. Gavi, however, stays back with me.
"You want anything specific?" he asks, leaning in close so I can hear him over the noise.
"Surprise me," I reply with a smirk, trying to keep things light. His eyes linger on mine for a moment longer than necessary before he nods and walks off to join the others. I exhale, not realizing I'd been holding my breath.
As I watch them at the bar, I notice Ben saying something to Gavi, his expression a little too tight, his movements a little too sharp. There's something off about his demeanor tonight, something more than just the usual playful banter. It's like there's a storm brewing beneath the surface, and I have a sinking feeling it's about to break.

When they return, Gavi hands me a drink—a vibrant pink cocktail that looks both sweet and lethal. "Pink Panther," he says with a wink. "It'll sneak up on you."
I laugh, taking a sip. It's stronger than I expected, but I don't mind. "Perfect," I say, licking the sweetness off my lips.

We settle into the plush seats and everyone downs their drink. Marc, Pedri, Ferran and Fermín are dancing and celebrating their win against Athletic as Marc pulls Olivia up to join him. Fermín signals for Gavi to join which leads to the entire group of us eventually taking on the dancefloor.

Throughout the next hour I can't shake the feeling of Ben's eyes on me, or the way Gavi's hand rests on the back of my chair, his fingers just inches from my shoulder.
Ben is quieter than usual, sipping his drink with a focused intensity. I catch him glancing at Gavi every now and then, his jaw tight, his eyes dark. I know what's going on in his head—I've been there before, feeling that sting of jealousy when someone else is getting too close to what you want.
Emil notices too, shooting me a questioning look. I shake my head slightly, signaling him to let it go, but I know it's only a matter of time before the tension snaps.

It doesn't take long.

As the night wears on and the drinks keep flowing, Ben's mood shifts. He's no longer the quiet observer—now he's animated, almost overly so, trying too hard to mask whatever's brewing inside. But the more he tries, the more obvious it becomes.

At one point, Olivia pulls me up to dance, and we leave the boys behind. We're laughing, spinning each other around, letting the music take over. For a moment, I forget about everything—the tension with Gavi, Ben's confession, the complicated mess my life has become. We lose ourselves in the rhythm, the pulsating beat of the music drowning out everything else.

But as we make our way back to the lounge, the atmosphere has changed.
Gavi is sitting back in his chair, looking tense, his eyes fixed on Ben, who is pacing slightly, drink in hand. His usual carefree demeanor is gone, replaced by something darker, more volatile.

"What's going on?" I ask, sliding back into my seat. Gavi doesn't answer, his jaw clenched, eyes still on Ben.
"Nothing," Ben says, but his voice is too sharp, too defensive.
I exchange a look with Olivia, who raises her eyebrows in concern. "Ben, chill out," she says, trying to diffuse whatever is building up. "We're here to have fun."
"Yeah, well, maybe some people should stop acting like they own the place," Ben snaps, his eyes flicking to Gavi.
There it is. The storm I'd been dreading.
"Ben, what's your problem?" I ask, trying to keep my voice calm, but I can feel the anxiety building in my chest.
"My problem?" he repeats, his voice rising. "Maybe my problem is that some people just don't know when to back off." He's looking directly at Gavi now, his words laced with something that sounds a lot like jealousy.

Gavi doesn't react immediately, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hand clenches into a fist on his thigh. He leans forward slightly, his voice a touch sharper than before. "You've had too much to drink," he says, his tone low but carrying a clear warning. "Let's just cool it, alright?"
Ben lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, now you're the reasonable one? That's rich."
"Ben, stop," I interject, my heart pounding. I can feel the eyes of the other club-goers on us, the way our group is suddenly the center of attention. This is not how I wanted the night to go.
But Ben is beyond reason now. "You think you can just swoop in and take whatever you want, don't you?" he says, stepping closer to Gavi, his voice shaking with anger. "You think just because you're some big-shot footballer, you can have it all?"
Gavi stands up now, his expression hardening. "You need to back off," he says, his voice dangerously quiet. His body language is tense, his posture defensive, as if he's ready to step in if Ben makes a wrong move. "This isn't the place."

"Maybe it's the perfect place," Ben shoots back. "Maybe everyone should know what a selfish prick you really are."
"Ben, enough!" I say, stepping between them. My hands are shaking, and I can barely keep my voice steady. "This is not the time or the place for this."
Pedri and Fermín, sensing the tension, step in to diffuse the situation. Pedri places a hand on Gavi's shoulder, while Fermín gently pulls Ben back.
"Come on, man, let's not do this here," Fermín says, trying to calm Ben down. "It's not worth it."
"Yeah, let's just chill, alright?" Pedri adds, his voice steady as he looks between Gavi and Ben.
Olivia and Emil quickly come to my side, their expressions mirroring my concern. We're all on edge, waiting for the next move.
Ben looks at me then, and for a moment, I see the hurt in his eyes, the pain he's been trying to hide. "I'm sorry, Soph," he says, his voice breaking. "I just can't stand by and watch this."

Before I can respond, he turns and storms out of the lounge, pushing through the crowd. I'm frozen in place, my mind spinning, not knowing whether to go after him or stay.
Gavi exhales sharply, his hands still clenched. "I'll talk to him," he says, but I stop him.
"No, let me," I say. "This is between us."
He nods, though I can see the reluctance in his eyes. "I'll be here if you need me," he says softly.
I give him a weak smile before turning and heading after Ben. My heart is heavy, knowing that this night has just opened up wounds that might never fully heal.