heaven-sent - Pablo Gavi

43. July 14th

Pablo's POV

I felt like I was about to collapse. My lungs felt like they were on fire, my muscles ached and every breath I took felt like wasn't enough to fill my body with enough oxygen.

The Olympiastadium was roaring and buzzing for the past hour or two - I didn't know exactly how long - my mind was too occupied with trying to lead our country to our first title since 2012.

My eyes had nothing but the shins of the players and the football in sight. Fans, coaches, referees and even my family didn't pass my mind once during those first minutes. I was just running around on a field - just like when I was seven, playing some unimportant youth game in Sevilla. Except this was July 14th, the UEFA EURO 2024 final.

third person's POV

a week earlier:

„Muani scores first! France lead by one-nil here in the Allianz Arena!"

Lucia looked like her world just collapsed. Not even ten minutes were played and France already took the lead. Anxious looks were exchanged between her and Aurora, both girls dressed in yellow-red jerseys with the number 9 on their backs. In general, the whole sector was full of Spaniards and fanatics, all having their head hanging low while the other half of the stadium was cheering loudly.

The french players animated the crowd to keep up the roaring momentum, slowly walking back towards their own half to continue playing. A quick glance towards Spain's captain was enough for Lucia to see her boyfriend's frustration. The midfielder from Barcelona shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek like he always did when he was angry. Deep wrinkles covered his forehead while he agitatedly discussed something with Dani Olmo, throwing his arms frustrated into the air.

De la Fuente on the sidelines motivated his players, telling them to move forward and forget what happened minutes before.

Without saying much more, Lucia and Aurora clutched their hands tightly together, almost cutting off the blood flow of the other person.

Over the next minutes, the Spanish team confidently kept on playing their way into the penalty area of France, getting closer and closer to an equalizer.

Aurora's view nervously traveled towards the Spanish bench where an unfamiliar face sat in one of the seats.

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„Gavi! Ven aqui." De la Fuente ran his hand over his bald head, his usual calm personality long gone.

„Are you warmed up?"

Gavi was confused. It was agreed that he'd start on the bench after his extraordinary performance in the quarter final to give him a needed break and let Rodri start. Rodri was back after his expulsion and would take over the captain's band as Morata was still out injured.

„Yes, yes I am." Gavi said calmly, already expecting a change of plans. Why so late though? The game would begin in less than an hour.

„Rodri pulled his hamstring. He can't play for the reminder of the tournament. You'll be taking over, including the captain's position."

Surprised but confident, the beloved Barcelona youngster nodded, realizing he had to - once again - show his qualities as a player and team leader.

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Aurora caught the moment of Rodri hiding his face behind his hands, making notice of his own frustration. She felt sorry for him. Not only was he injured and out for the rest of the tournament, but he watched his team concede a crucial goal in one of the most important games of the season.