Veiled Hearts | Pablo Gavi

024 madrid

I hopped out of the car right after Theo, the warm Madrid air instantly wrapping around me as we made our way towards the hotel lobby. After paying the taxi and ensuring the concierge took care of our baggage, my mom finally joined us, looking as calm as ever despite the bustling scene around us. The team was set to arrive in two hours, but some fans had already gathered outside, eagerly positioning themselves in front of the hotel entrance, hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite players. We quickly walked over to the hotel worker stationed at the lobby desk, ready to check in.

"We have a room under Flick," my mom stated, handing the man behind the desk all of our identity cards. He flipped through them, nodding as he entered our details into the system. After a few taps on the keyboard, he pulled out three room keys, sliding them across the counter along with our documents.

"Welcome to Eurostar Madrid Tower. My name is Juan," he greeted us with a smile. "Your room will be located on the same floor as the team. You're registered to share a connected room with your husband, and the adjoining room may be used for the children. For your privacy and safety, the floor is only accessible by scanning your room key in the elevator, which will ensure no disruptions from other guests. Please carry your keycard with you at all times when leaving the floor. If you have any issues or require anything, feel free to contact reception or any hotel staff."

"Thank you very much for your hospitality, Juan," my mother replied with her usual warmth, her diplomatic tone always on point.

"You're very welcome. My colleague, Isa, will guide you to your room, and your luggage will arrive shortly. Enjoy your stay!" Juan gestured towards a young woman standing nearby, who smiled warmly at us.

Isa, who had dark blonde hair pulled into a neat ponytail, led us towards the elevators. "Your rooms are located on the ninth floor—rooms 909 and 910," she informed us as the elevator doors closed and we ascended. "There's a phone in each room, so you can contact the concierge anytime. Room service is available until eleven at night, but after that, we offer a limited midnight snack menu. Breakfast runs until 10:30 in the morning."

We stepped out onto the plush carpeted hallway, and Isa led us to room 909, opening the door with a swipe of the key card. "The minibar is complimentary for you. Checkout is scheduled for 11 a.m., which was arranged by the team beforehand. Do you have any other questions I can assist you with?" She smiled once more, glancing back as another hotel worker, Matias, began unloading our luggage outside the door.

"No, I think you've covered everything important. Thank you, Isa," my mother responded as we walked into the spacious, modern room, which had floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of Madrid.

Theo immediately darted through the connecting door to our second room and claimed his side of the bed, which was closest to the large window. I followed, lugging my duffle bag over to a lounge chair in the corner of the room. The game wasn't until the evening, and since we had taken an early train while the team was arriving by private jet, exhaustion was beginning to creep up on me. Deciding to take a nap, I lay down on the plush bed, hoping to recharge before the evening's events.

I woke to the sound of loud voices and bustling in the hallway outside our room. Groggily, I reached for my phone and checked the time—it had been about an hour and a half since I fell asleep. A few messages had come through, mostly from friends and family, but one caught my eye. It was from Blanca.

Blanca: They never stop and eat all this stuff up haha!

Curious, I clicked on the link she had sent and was immediately led to an Instagram post from a gossip page. The post had racked up nearly 15,000 likes already, and the photos they had included were of me—one of me getting into my car, and another of Gavi in his. I skimmed the article they had written, which was full of speculation about us being spotted together. I sighed. At least it was just speculation for now. Some of the comments seemed to understand that, while others... well, it was typical online gossip. The influx of new follower requests on my account made me wish Instagram had a button to instantly delete them all. Instead, they were there, sitting like a red, glaring notification that I had no interest in opening. I sighed again, putting my phone down.