☆ when he's all she wants to be, but she's all he wants to be.
fc barcelona's best youngsters, made in la masia; camile santana and pablo gavi practically tied together by the media and those around them and yet... they hardly speak once a week...
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(TRANSLATION IN COMMENTS)
Deja que las estadísticas digan lo que quieran, nosotros Catalanes conocemos nuestro futuro. Su nombre es Pablo Gavira "Gavi" nacido en Los Palacios. En su izquierda es Camile Santana, la jugadora de Barca Femení. Hace poco gano su primer Ballon d'Or y Gavi llevo la Kopa Trophy y Golden Boy esa noche. Las mas grandes caras en futbol ahorita pero es claro que Gavi ama a este club mas que nada. Camile llego de los ocho años de los estados con una mama de Mexico y su papa naciendo se aquí. Pero lo que Barça necesita es pura sangre Blaugrana. La temporada a comenzado otra vez y Gavi seguirá luchando para ese título y nos va traer la liga a casa. Aunque Camile ya tenga trece gols esta temporada siendo medio campista, la mera cara para ver en esta temporada es Pablo Martin Páez Gavira.
☆
CAMILE's POV
the paper was thrown at me like it was nothing.
maybe they wanted to make sure it was nothing.
"cami?" balde asks in the middle of the cafeteria where everyone else was getting their food. "let's ignore the stats?" i repeat what the first line basically said.
but when it comes to everything else, let's bring them up?
they all continue to look down at me, but i'm about done looking at the picture of us side by side. "come on, cami." lewandowski tells me as i crumble the paper and throw it to the side. "i'm too tired for this, lewa."
except no one ever asks if i am.
"hey guys." you can't be serious.
"hi." i say and continue eating.
last time i remember, we aren't supposed to be talking. i'm slowly thanking myself for making sure i did that but it's so hard when he's always around. "um... estás bien (are you okay), camile?"
define okay.
"yeah." it'd be more convincing if everyone else didn't give each other a look. "here," i didn't look up to see what pedri was talking about when he said that, but i did hear the crinkle of the paper.
"you guys can't be serious—"
"who wrote this?" some guy who doesn't watch women's football, that's for sure. "camile—"
"leave it already." i'd appreciate it before i walk out of here. "we can call to take the papers down!" right, because that's gonna work. "do you know how many are out by now?" the city makes sure theres enough copies at every corner. if it's out then there's automatically nothing in my willpower that would solve this.
"that doesn't mean we shouldn't—"
"i have to go." i say and pick up my tray, dumping my food away and just leaving the cafeteria as a whole. theres no 'we' when i'm the only one affected by this. "camile!"
"go away, gavi."
i hate that i'm tired of his voice when i've only just gotten to know him. "háblame (talk to me), camile."
"last time i remembered, i'm not supposed to."
plus, he should know how i feel about this by now. "i don't care about ana right now, you're clearly not okay and i'm not gonna ignore that." well he should considering he's the cause of it.
except he's not.
he has no control over what happens and what people write. he's just here to be here.
and i hate that.
"well you should for your own sake." not once did i turn around. it would've continued that way once i got as far away as i could from him until he spun me around himself. "camile, por favor. (please)"
"ya hablamos de esto, olvídalo. (we've already talked about this, forget it)"
"camile, i've apologized. if i could do so much more i promise i would—"
"god gavi, just being around you is like drowning. drowning. so what you could do is stay away from me the same way ana wants you too, and the same way i do too so i can have a career without my name being behind yours."
in that moment, i didn't know what to think.
it's all getting to me and it's showing. "fuck, i'm sorry."
so fucking sorry.
i feel like a fool about it; an even bigger one for the instant replay of yelling at him like that. "i just wish you and everyone would get out of my head about all this and—"
"no me debes explicación (you don't owe me an explanation), camile." he says in a soft tone. way too soft compared to the way i spoke to him.
"but i just—"
"i'm sorry it's like this. no mereces las criticas o comparaciones cuando sos mil veces mejor que yo. (you don't deserve the critics or comparisons when you're a thousand times better than me)"
"stop saying that."
"but i mean it—"
"no seriously, stop saying that. people see you as the best for a reason. you have your own skills and i have mine. never better or worse than the other."
i never caught the man's name at the museum, but his words are helping me get through to gavi. "i want this to be one of the a last times we speak about it... everything."
for real this time. "but camile—"
"i'll forget about it." knowing that probably isn't true, i lie my way through for our sake. "stop, camile."
"gavi, it's the only way i'll ever get peace of mind if you're just... not around."
if he wishes he could do more, he can start now.
i didn't realize how close we were till i was looking up into his eyes, watching a furrowed upset reaction at all this. "it's not fair."
"maybe not, but it'd help if we went through with this."
