[5] press conferences

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CAMILE's POV

"jonatan, please!" like seriously, today of all days?!

"you have less than ten minutes, please be out on time!"

i was already ready for all the interviews but last minute it hit me that i really don't wanna do this. it's not even nerves it's just knowing what to say or how to say it.

okay hearing myself makes me think it is nerves.

but i'd never admit to it.

it doesn't help that gavi's gonna be taking it with me. after the whole gala, i feel like i see him everywhere due to the press.

it's never a 'collect your trophy and move on with your life and continue to strive to win it again' situation.

so as i finished putting the cuffs to my sleeve, i got off the platform and put on the jewelry i laid out myself as the stylist help me put on my bracelet.

one was a charm bracelet i always wore.

i've noticed that when i do wear it, everything goes accordingly. "may i ask where you got this barca charm? i've never seen it."

"it's custom—"

"camile, gavi's waiting!" gavi or the press?! i groan but thankfully i'm all done and walk out the room where as just mentioned... gavi was waiting. "i'm not left out anymore." i tell him because at least now we're both in the same suit.

"it suits you."

my lips formed into a line, clearly trying to hold my laughter back from his 'joke.' "never speak again."

"okay."

"that was a joke!"

"go out now!" we were whispered at loudly and we both straightened ourselves out before i realized i'd be taking the lead and onto the stage where the long table was set and mics were in front of our seats.

a staff grabbed my attention really quickly to tell me about the wires and at the same time, gavi was pulling my chair out, signaling me to take a seat.

it was a kind gesture and i took it, not realizing he'd also scoot it in.

"good luck." i just barely whisper. "you too."

i swear i saw him gulp in the time i was turning back the crowd of journalists who were also taking their place after photographers stormed the front for pics of us coming in. "buenas tardes, camile y gavi. empezaremos cuando estén listo. (good afternoon camile and gavi. we'll start when you guys are ready)"

was it obvious that we were both screaming for help on the inside?

"listos. (ready)" i say for the both of us.

"amazing! well good afternoon, gavi. how does it feel to bring the golden boy award back home after your teammate pedri gonzalez received it the year before?"

gavi.

"well um, it's an honor of course to follow in his steps while making my own name here at barca."

the journalist smiles at his short ended response and he continues to stand so i assumed—"your breakthrough was amazing, something we've never seen before in football. so on my behalf, a big congratulations!"

"thank you." he tells him and he's finally sat.

about time, i think to myself.

meanwhile i continue to sit here... question-less.
but, this is what i wanted... no?

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