•500 Days• ,, Hector Fort

19,,dont hold ur breath

💧

Marcos🪿
dinner tonight dont be late people
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The atmosphere at the dinner table shifted dramatically as Hector spoke, his words hanging heavy in the air. Summer's stomach churned as she processed what he had just said. He'd been distant for days, but this was different—this was something she hadn't expected.

"I've been seeing someone," Hector said, his voice quiet but firm. "Clara. The FCB Femení player."

Summer's heart stopped for a moment. Clara? He'd been seeing Clara, and he hadn't mentioned it to her? The way Hector spoke, it felt like he was almost apologizing, but at the same time, it was as if he didn't want to share the full truth. Summer couldn't make sense of it. She stared at him, trying to hold it together. But her mind was racing, the pieces of their time together falling apart.

"What do you mean, you've been seeing her?" Summer's voice was barely above a whisper, the hurt evident in her words.

"I didn't want you to find out like this," Hector said, his eyes avoiding hers. "But it's complicated. The team, the media—they've been pushing this narrative. Clara and I are... we're together, but it's not... the way you're thinking."

Summer's breath hitched, and for a moment, she couldn't quite process what he was saying. She had to have misunderstood. She had spent weeks with Hector—laughing, talking late into the night, sharing moments that felt incredibly real. And now, he was telling her it was all part of some story the team had created?

"Wait, so it's not real?" Summer asked, her voice thick with disbelief. "You and Clara aren't really together, or are you just making up excuses?"

Hector shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and the rest of the table fell into an uneasy silence. Summer could feel the tension rise, her heart pounding in her chest. She looked at him, trying to make sense of his words, but they didn't add up.

Her hands shook, and she forced herself to stay calm. "So you're telling me," she said slowly, "that all this time, everything we had—everything I thought we had—was a lie? You've been pretending?"

Hector opened his mouth to respond, but Summer held up a hand, silencing him. "You know what? I don't need to hear it. You could've been honest with me, Hector. But instead, you let me believe this was something real."

She looked around the table, and the silence was almost suffocating. No one spoke, everyone watching the exchange unfold, but none of them seemed ready to speak up. Marc and Pau exchanged uneasy glances, but they said nothing. They knew better than to intervene.

Summer felt the anger boiling inside her, but she forced herself to stay composed. "You know what, Hector? Don't come crying to me when your big dreams fall apart. You've built this image, this story, and now you have to live with it."

The words came out harsher than she intended, and she could see Hector flinch. But she didn't care anymore. The hurt was too much to ignore.

"Don't fucking hold your breath," Hector muttered, the words cold and final. He didn't look at her when he said it, his tone as distant as his gaze.

Summer didn't respond. Instead, she pushed her chair back with a loud scrape, the sound echoing through the room. She stood up, her legs shaking, and she grabbed her purse. Without another word, she turned toward the door, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on her with every step.

"Summer, wait!" Hector called after her, his voice filled with regret, but she didn't stop. She didn't want to hear anything else. Not from him. Not right now.

The rest of the group remained frozen, unsure of what to do. Lamine, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the conversation, finally spoke up, his voice a little unsure. "Maybe we should give her some space."

Marc nodded in agreement, but it was clear that the damage had been done. Everyone knew Summer had been hurt, and no one could fix it.

Outside, the night air hit Summer like a cold slap. She walked briskly down the sidewalk, her mind spinning, her heart heavy with the weight of Hector's words. The anger still simmered beneath the surface, but it was mixed with confusion and disappointment. How had it come to this? How had someone she thought she could trust turned everything into a game for the media?

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, seeing the long list of messages and missed calls. Hector. Ana. Marc. Pau. Everyone had reached out, but she didn't want to talk to anyone right now. Not until she figured things out for herself.

She walked faster, needing space to clear her head. Her fingers hovered over her phone for a moment, but she resisted the urge to reply. She wasn't ready to hear anything from anyone—not yet.

She found a small park nearby and sat on one of the benches, taking a deep breath as she tried to calm herself. The cool night air helped clear her thoughts a little, but it didn't erase the sting of what had just happened. She had been so sure of what they shared—of what Hector had felt. Now, everything felt shattered.

Her phone buzzed again, and this time, she answered. "Ana," she said, her voice shaky.

"Summer, where are you? Please talk to me."

"I need some time," Summer replied, her voice tight. "I just... I don't understand, Ana. Everything felt so real, and now, it feels like a joke."

"I know, Summer," Ana said softly. "I'm so sorry. But I need you to know that this... this is all on Hector. You didn't do anything wrong. You deserve better than this."

Summer wiped away a tear that had slipped down her cheek. "Thanks, Ana. I just... I need to be alone right now. I'll call you later."

With that, she hung up, the weight of the conversation still heavy in her chest. She leaned back against the bench, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to quiet her mind.

For now, she just needed to clear her head.

authors note

it had to be done atp