Veiled Hearts | Pablo Gavi

015 home game

The week crawls by slowly, each day feeling heavier than the last. I keep myself busy, throwing everything I have into preparing for university. Classes haven't started yet, but there's so much to do—organizing schedules, buying textbooks, figuring out logistics. It's been exhausting, but also a welcome distraction from everything else.

I spend most of my time at home. With everyone training or busy, it's been quiet around here. My brother Theo is at football practice almost every day, and Dad, well, he's practically living at the training ground, working tirelessly to integrate Dani Olmo into Barcelona's lineup. The pressure's on him, and you can feel it. He's stressed, constantly on the phone or rushing off to meetings. The few moments he's home, he's distant, his mind already back on the field.

I don't really blame him. His job is all-consuming, and this season is critical. Still, it leaves me feeling isolated. Olivia, Ben, and Emil are gone, and without them, Barcelona feels bigger and lonelier. I haven't made many friends here yet. Sure, I've met a few people, but no one close enough to lean on. Most of my time is spent studying, reading, or just mindlessly scrolling through my phone.

And then there's Gavi.

He hasn't reached out. Not once.

Since that night at the club, it's been radio silence from him. I keep wondering if he's waiting for me to text first, but I can't bring myself to do it. I don't know what to say, or if there's even anything left to say after the awkwardness that unfolded. Maybe he's avoiding me on purpose, and that thought keeps gnawing at me. The more time that passes, the more anxious I become about seeing him again.

It's Saturday now, and my dad has asked—well, more like insisted—that we all attend the third game of the season. Barcelona against Athletic Club. A home game. Theo's already bouncing with excitement, thrilled at the idea of sitting in the family section and watching the match.

I, on the other hand, feel a knot forming in my stomach.

I know Gavi will be there, sitting on the bench or in the stands, since he's still recovering from his torn ACL. The thought of seeing him after a week of silence, after everything that's happened between us, makes my palms sweaty. There's a part of me that wants to avoid it altogether, to make an excuse and stay home. But I know I can't. Dad expects me to be there, and honestly, I want to support him. This game is huge for him, and it would mean the world for our family to be present.

I start getting ready around 4 pm, knowing I'll need time to steady my nerves. The game kicks off at six, and with my dad already at the stadium preparing with the team, it's just me and Theo getting ready to head over.

I pull on my Barcelona kit, one of my favorites. It's simple, classic, with my dad's name on the back. The red and blue colors look sharp against the crisp white of my jeans, and I finish the look with my burgundy Adidas Gazelles, matching them with a burgundy Chanel bag that's the same shade as the kit. I glance at myself in the mirror, smoothing my hair down nervously.

I look the part, but inside, I'm a wreck.

Theo bounces into my room, already dressed in his own mini Barcelona kit. His face is lit up with excitement. "You ready, Soph? Let's go!"

"Yeah, just a minute," I say, grabbing my jacket and taking one last look in the mirror. I want to feel excited like him, but all I can focus on is the gnawing anxiety in my chest.

The drive to the stadium is quiet, with Theo chattering away about the players and how he's hoping for a big win today. I smile and nod, but my mind is elsewhere, already rehearsing how I'll act if—no, when—I see Gavi. I imagine a quick hello, maybe some polite small talk, and then moving on. But what if it's awkward? What if we don't even talk? What if he's upset with me for not reaching out?