houseofdolan

"Campeones, campeones, olé, olé, olé!" echoes through the Camp Nou. The roar of the crowd is deafening as Pedri hugs me tightly, lifting me slightly off my feet.

"We won it, hermano! We did it again!" he yells straight into my ear.

Over his shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Los blancos. They are already leaving the pitch without even bothering to congratulate us—typical Madridista behaviour. I want to point it out to Pedri, but before I can speak, he grabs my hand. He drags me through the chaos straight toward Hansi.

Within seconds, the whole team swarms him, lifting the coach into the air. We had all told him he should return to Germany, but he decided to stay with us, and right now, looking at his wide smile, we couldn't be more thankful.The moment we put him down, the crowd surges, and I lose my grip. I spin around, searching the sea of moving jerseys for Pedri, but he's gone.

"Olé, olé, olé! Ferri, what a banger!" Lamine shouts, trying to compete with the stadium speakers. Is that I Que Fue playing? God, I am already so tired of that song.

"Gracias!" I yell back, scanning the pitch. "Do you know where Pedri is?"

Lamine exchanges a quick, knowing glance with Pau and Balde, who are already bouncing beside him like a bunch of excited rabbits.

"Dios mío, you two aren't joined at the hip, you know, ¿si?"

I don't answer. I just stare at him until Lamine's smile fades into a mutter.

"I guess he's with Alejandra..."

Ah, yes. Alejandra. I completely forgot about her—or at least, I was trying my best to. She is beautiful, smart, and absolutely perfect for Pedri. That is my exact problem.While everyone else is lost in the ecstasy of our La Liga title, I am standing here, stomach turning, realization hitting me like a cold wave. I've been following him around like a shadow, only to find out he's about to make their relationship official.

"Yeah," I mutter to myself, forcing a swallow. "I better join the group."

I turn away from the crowd and jog to catch up with Fermín and Rapha on their way to the trophy lift. When Rapha looks behind him and spots me, his face lights up.

"El tiburón!" He throws a heavy arm around my neck, pulling me into a tight hug, while Fermín slaps my back hard. We step into the row, waiting to get tiny trophies, but my mind is still somewhere else on the pitch.Slowly, we all get our trophies :This is cute,damn, i think as i look at the little blaugrana bows.2 times in a row la liga champions... I love this team.As we group for the trophy lift, i finally see him: Pedri, laughing with Pau. I slowly approach them, as Cuba goes back into the group.