Best Mistake ︱Pedri González

39

Luciana's POV

The morning sun was just starting to rise over Milan, casting a soft golden hue over the city as I made my way to the training center where the boys would be training. There was a buzz of excitement in the air—a mix of nerves and anticipation with just one more day until the big match against AC Milan. My job was to capture all of it, every moment of preparation, every shot on goal, and every bead of sweat, to bring our fans closer to the action.

Valeria and I were already setting up our cameras by the time the boys showed up, decked out in their training gear, ready to get to work. We were at a lesser-known stadium, far from the prying eyes of the public, a hidden gem that offered privacy and the perfect conditions for an intense practice session. The stands were empty, except for a few staff members scattered around, watching quietly.

"Okay, we need to get some good footage today," Valeria said, adjusting her camera lens. "They want something dynamic for the reels—close-ups, slow-motion shots, the whole package."

I nodded, taking a deep breath as I scanned the field. Pedri was warming up on the far side, his usual focus etched across his face. Ansu and Balde were stretching near the goalpost, joking with Gavi and Lamine, who were playfully nudging each other. Despite everything that had happened, being part of this team, in some small way, still felt right.

As the boys started their drills, Valeria and I got to work, moving around the field to capture different angles. The first set was shooting drills—quick, powerful shots aimed at the top corners of the net. I filmed as Ferran took his turn, blasting the ball past the goalkeeper with pinpoint accuracy. I zoomed in, catching the determination on his face and the celebration that followed.

"Nice shot, Ferran!" Valeria called out, giving him a thumbs-up. He flashed a quick smile, acknowledging her before getting back in line.

Pedri was next, and as usual, he was all business. His movements were fluid, precise, like he was in his own world where only the ball and the goal existed. I kept my camera trained on him, capturing every step, every strike. When he scored, the net rippled, and for a brief moment, his serious demeanor broke into a grin. I found myself smiling behind the lens, despite everything.

The boys moved on to defensive drills, working on positioning and quick reactions. Balde and Lamine were a force, blocking shots and intercepting passes with the kind of tenacity that reminded me why they were such crucial parts of the team. Gavi's voice echoed across the field as he shouted instructions, his fiery spirit unmistakable.

Valeria turned to me, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "These shots are going to be amazing. Look at them go—it's like they're on fire today."

"They really are," I agreed, keeping my focus steady. "It's like you can feel the intensity building."

Next came the speed and agility drills, where they had to weave through cones and sprint in short bursts. Ansu and Gavi were competing, trying to outpace each other with every run. I captured the sweat dripping down their faces, their expressions a mix of exhaustion and determination. They were pushing themselves to the limit, and it showed.

After the drills wrapped up, the boys gathered in the middle of the field for a quick cool-down. Valeria and I took a moment to review our footage, scrolling through the clips we'd just taken.

"This one's perfect," Valeria said, pointing to a slow-motion shot of Gavi sliding in for a tackle. "It's going to look great on the Instagram page."

I nodded, but my mind was already wandering. I glanced back at the players, who were now stretching and winding down. I saw Pedri talking to Ferran and Fermin, his expression serious. I wondered if he was thinking about the match or if his thoughts were elsewhere, like mine often were these days.

Valeria nudged me gently. "Hey, you okay? You've been quiet."

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, forcing a small smile. "Just trying to get the best angles."

We finished filming and packed up our gear, heading back to the small media room where we'd edit the footage for the team's social media. As I worked, I couldn't help but replay the day in my mind—the way the guys were so focused, the camaraderie that was still so strong despite all the pressure. It made me miss the simpler times, before everything had gotten so complicated with Dante, with Pedri, and with myself.

But today was a good day. It felt like the first step toward something new, even if I wasn't entirely sure what that was yet. As I saved the final edits and sent them off for approval, I glanced at Valeria, who was already preparing the next set of posts.

"You've got this, Lu," she said encouragingly, reading my mind. "Whatever happens, just keep moving forward."

I nodded, more determined than ever to keep finding my way, one day at a time. And maybe, just maybe, things would start to feel right again.

Watching the match from the sidelines was a mix of excitement and anxiety. San Siro was buzzing with energy, and I could feel the anticipation in the air as the players warmed up. I stood alongside Valeria, camera in hand, ready to capture every moment for the FCB social media account.

As the whistle blew and the game began, my heart raced. I focused on the players—Pedri, Ansu, Ferran—all of them giving their all on the pitch. I could see the determination in their eyes, and it filled me with pride to be part of this team, even if only as a spectator today.

The first goal sent the crowd into a frenzy, and I cheered along with the fans. Ferran's shot was beautiful, curling into the bottom corner. I couldn't help but snap a quick photo of the celebration, capturing the joy on their faces. The energy was infectious.

But as quickly as we took the lead, Milan responded, equalizing and bringing the tension back into the game. I held my breath, feeling the weight of the moment. The boys were giving it their all, and I knew how much this match meant to them.

When Ansu scored our second goal, I couldn't contain my excitement. I clapped and jumped up, celebrating with Valeria. It was incredible to witness such talent and teamwork. I could see the bond between the players; they were not just teammates but brothers.

Yet, as the match progressed, I felt a knot in my stomach. Milan managed to equalize again, and I could see the frustration on the players' faces. I wanted to shout words of encouragement, but I knew they needed to focus.

During halftime, I glanced at Pedri, who was deep in conversation with Xavi. I could see the intensity in his expression, and it reminded me of everything they had been working toward. I wondered how he was feeling, especially with everything that had happened between us. I wished I could be there for him in a different way, to support him on and off the pitch.

As the second half began, I felt hopeful again. The boys came out strong, pushing forward with determination. When I saw Pedri intercept the pass and launch a counter-attack, my heart raced. He was brilliant out there, and I felt proud to see him thrive.

When the third goal went in, I almost cried out in joy. I snapped photos of the celebration, capturing the camaraderie among the players. It was moments like these that reminded me of why I loved being part of this team.

Then came the final moments, with the tension reaching its peak. I held my breath as they fought hard to maintain their lead. When Ferran scored the fourth goal, the stadium erupted, and I couldn't help but join in the celebration. My heart swelled with pride for all of them.

As the final whistle blew, signaling our victory, I cheered along with the crowd. The players embraced, and I felt a rush of happiness. They had done it—4-2 against a tough opponent.

I watched as they celebrated, feeling a mix of joy and longing. I wished I could share in that victory with Pedri, but I knew I needed to give him space. I wanted him to focus on his game and find his way through whatever he was dealing with.

As the players walked off the pitch, I took a moment to breathe. This victory was a reminder of the strength of our team, and I couldn't wait to capture more moments like these. But for now, I hoped Pedri knew that I was cheering for him, no matter what was happening between us.