𝑺𝑯𝑬, héctor fort

005

The commercial shoot wrapped up without a hitch. Mira was more than satisfied with how everything had gone; Héctor had been both professional and unexpectedly fun. As the crew clapped and thanked everyone, Héctor jogged over to Mira, who was gathering her things. His easy smile still in place, he gave her a quick nod.

"Well, that's a wrap," he said, his English still a bit stilted, but it only made Mira smile. She wasn't usually into athletes, but there was something undeniably charming about him, and his thick accent only made it better.

"Good job, football star," she replied, giving him a mock salute. "You didn't even trip over the ball once."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, come on, I'm not that bad."

She shrugged, feigning innocence. "I don't know. I think I might be better than you at this point."

He looked at her, his eyes narrowing. "Are you serious right now? You're just asking for trouble."

Mira just grinned. She was used to people trying to impress her, but Héctor seemed more interested in giving her a hard time than anything else—and she loved it.

As the crew continued to pack up, Héctor slipped his hands into his pockets, looking at her with a casual confidence. "Hey, uh, Mira," he said, his voice a bit quieter. "Before you go back to your fancy hotel and whatever rich-person shit you do... give me your number."

Mira raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh, that's smooth."

He shrugged, grinning. "I try. I'll show you around the city—tonight, if you're free. I know a spot you'll like."

Mira paused, intrigued. "What's the place?"

"It's a restaurant—small, cozy, and a little rough around the edges, but it's got the best food in the city. You don't like it, you can insult me all night," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Sounds like a plan," Mira replied, amused by his confidence. She pulled out her phone and handed it to him. "Put your number in."

Héctor took her phone, his fingers hovering over the screen as he typed, and then he looked up at her with a smirk. "So, dinner at eight? Wear whatever you want, but don't expect me to dress up fancy or any of that shit."

She laughed. "Oh, I wasn't expecting you to. I've got a feeling your idea of 'dressing up' is just putting on a clean shirt."

He chuckled. "You got me there. But hey, don't underestimate my style. It's... effortless."

"Uh-huh, I'll believe it when I see it," Mira teased. She saved his number in her phone, shooting him a playful look. "See you tonight, then."

He gave her a nod. "Oh, you will. And get ready, 'cause I don't do boring dinners. You're in for a real Barcelonan experience."

Mira couldn't help but smile. "I'm holding you to that."

As she turned to leave, Héctor called after her, his voice loud and playful. "And don't be late! I'm not waiting all night!"

She rolled her eyes but threw him a wave. "You wish."

That evening, Mira arrived at the restaurant a few minutes before eight. The place was just as he'd described: unpretentious, bustling with locals, and filled with the rich smells of grilled seafood and spices. She loved it immediately. The decor was a mix of old and new, with mismatched chairs and graffiti-covered walls that gave it a unique, authentic vibe.

Héctor spotted her the moment she walked in. He was leaning against the bar, a crooked smile on his face, watching her take it all in.

"Not bad, huh?" he asked, walking over to her.

Mira nodded, impressed. "Alright, I'll give you points for this one."

They sat down, and almost immediately, Héctor launched into a story about a chaotic training session where he'd accidentally taken out one of his teammates. The way he told it—with over-the-top expressions, and his mix of English and Spanish—had Mira laughing so hard she had to cover her mouth.

"Wait, wait, so you actually tackled him that hard?" she managed between laughs.

Héctor nodded, looking both proud and embarrassed. "He shouldn't have been standing there like an idiot. And anyway, he deserved it."

She shook her head, grinning. "You're an ass."

He raised his glass to her. "Takes one to know one."

They clinked glasses, and Héctor grinned at her. "So, Miss Six-Grammys, you having fun yet?"

Mira snorted, shaking her head. "Is that seriously what you're calling me?"

"Would you prefer Princess Grammy, or maybe Your Highness?"

Mira rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous."

He laughed, then leaned back in his chair, studying her. "Nah, I think I'll just call you Mira. The fancy titles don't suit you."

She smiled, a bit surprised by his honesty. "Good answer." She took a sip of her drink, enjoying the laid-back atmosphere. Héctor's casual confidence, his humor, and his absolute lack of awe about her fame were refreshing. It made her feel like just Mira, not Mira Kai the superstar.

"So, what's it really like, then?" Héctor asked, after a moment. "Being... you know, you."

Mira shrugged, suddenly a bit self-conscious. "Honestly? It's... a lot. Sometimes it's amazing, sometimes it's overwhelming."

Héctor nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Yeah, I get that. People see the glitz and glamour, but they forget you're still human, right?"

She glanced at him, surprised. "Exactly."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both of them just taking it in. Then, Héctor grinned at her, breaking the serious moment.

"Alright, enough of that deep shit. Let's order. You like seafood?"

"Love it," Mira replied.

"Perfect," he said, waving over the waiter. "This place does the best calamari. And if you don't like it, I'll pay for your therapy."

Mira burst out laughing. "You're terrible."

"I try," he said, giving her a mock bow. "But hey, you're smiling, so I must be doing something right."

As the night went on, they swapped stories, teasing each other, and trading insults in a playful way that felt completely natural. Every now and then, Héctor would slip a Spanish word into the conversation, making Mira laugh when he forgot an English word.

"Alright, listen," she said, trying to hold back her laughter. "You need to work on that English."

"And you need to work on your Spanish, princesa," he shot back, smirking.

"Touché," she admitted, smiling.

Finally, as the night wound down, Héctor looked at her with a more serious expression. "So, Mira, do you think you'll remember this night in a week? A month?"

She looked at him, seeing the genuine question in his eyes. "Yeah, I think I will," she replied softly. "You're kind of unforgettable, you know."

He grinned. "Damn right I am."

As they stepped out of the restaurant, Héctor turned to her, his face lit up by the city lights. "This was fun. Let's do it again sometime."

Mira smiled, feeling a strange warmth in her chest. "I'd like that."

And as they parted ways, Mira couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, Barcelona had more surprises in store for her than she'd expected.