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When Lamine turned sixteen, late-night parties became a regular part of his life. His teammates knew it well. Balde and Ansu would often join him, but others, like Lewandowski and Raphinha, started to get worried about how reckless he was becoming. They didn’t like seeing him caught up in that scene so young. They gave him advice to slow down, but he never listened. He was too stubborn, so eventually, they stopped trying.
That morning, he rushed out of the house, frowning, walking fast. The fresh summer air hit his tired face, and he felt frustrated. He could hear his mom yelling something from inside, probably telling him not to slam the door, but he didn’t have time to answer. He’d apologize later... if he remembered.
In the distance, he saw his dad honking the horn, impatient. He ran to the car, circled around it, and jumped into the passenger seat. The door slammed shut, and his dad gave him a warning look. He didn’t care.
“Just go, I’m running late,” he said, adjusting his seatbelt.
His dad clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. He’d probably lecture him when he picked him up later, but that wasn’t on his mind right now. He needed to keep his spot in the starting lineup for the next match.
The car started, and the drive to Ciutat Esportiva began. His dad turned on the radio, and the music played —something Lamine would normally enjoy—, but today, all he could do was stare at his watch, watching the minutes fly by, making him even more anxious. He should’ve been there ten minutes ago, and there were still five more minutes until they arrived.
It was all because his alarm didn’t go off. He’d slept through it, a half-hour more than he should have. If it weren’t for his mom, he’d probably still be asleep. He barely had time to get dressed. Didn’t brush his teeth, didn’t eat breakfast, and just hoped he hadn’t forgotten to pack something in his bag while rushing out the door.
“Hijo, get out, we’re here.”
“Oh, right.”
Without wasting another second, he opened the door and bolted toward the facilities.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Hansi Flick shot him a look full of disapproval before launching into a lecture in a language Lamine didn’t even try to understand. He didn’t need to, though—the tone, the anger in his eyes, it all said everything.
His teammates, already stretching, couldn’t help but watch the scene unfold. Balde was laughing quietly, while Pedri and Fermín sighed, resigned.
—What did you do to the kid, Balde? Now he’s even late to training —Gavi commented, jogging alongside him.
—He’s probably not starting the next game. And we all know how Lamine gets when he’s benched —Pedri added.
—Unbearable.
—Exactly. But this time, it’s his fault, so I hope he takes it seriously.
—Maybe this is exactly what he needs to focus and stop going out every night —Raphinha said, concerned for Lamine and hoping he’d start taking better care of himself.
At the other end of the field, Cubarsí was talking to Héctor Fort and Eric García, but his eyes kept drifting to Lamine and Hansi. He frowned when he saw how upset Lamine was. It was obvious why—Pau knew this was coming sooner or later. He didn’t think it’d take this long, though.
A twinge hit his chest when he remembered why Lamine had stayed out all night. Parties. Again. He tried to shake it off, tried to focus on training, but the discomfort in his stomach wouldn’t leave.
—Why are you sighing so much, Pau? —Héctor whispered in his ear, close enough for his breath to brush against Pau’s neck.
Cubarsí flinched and tripped over his own feet. The sound of him hitting the ground was loud, drawing everyone’s attention. Even Flick and Lamine stopped arguing to look over at him.
His face burning, Pau shot a glare at Héctor, who was struggling to hold in his laughter. But, of course, his annoyed expression just made him look more adorable than threatening.
—Come on, get up —Fort said, crouching to help him up, sliding his hands under Pau’s arms.
As they got back to jogging, everyone returned to their routine, losing interest in the scene.
Everyone except Lamine.
He was still watching Pau, not even trying to hide it.
Pau caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye and felt heat rush to his ears. His face flushed bright red, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about the intensity of Lamine’s gaze.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Lamine finally got home, exhausted, frustrated, and with a fire burning in his chest. He had worked his ass off during training to make up for his mistake, but Flick wasn’t budging—he was staying punished and not starting the next game. Great. Perfect. Flick was stricter than he’d thought.
He kind of missed the days when Xavi would just sort things out with money. But whatever, he had to deal with it. As much as it pissed him off, Flick was a great coach, and his discipline was turning the team around.
Not that he felt like admitting any of that now. All he wanted to do was slam his head against the wall and scream until he lost his voice. Just let it out. Hit something.
He stormed up the stairs, slamming the door behind him without a second thought, not caring if his mom would give him hell the next day (or smack him upside the head, which was probably coming). He didn’t care. Nothing mattered. He didn’t even bother to shower; he just fell onto his bed, grabbed his phone, and started scrolling through Instagram, looking for something to distract him from how shitty he felt.
Then, a notification popped up.
"Hey man, you going out tonight?"
Lamine stared at the message. The logical thing to do would be to say no. Think about the punishment. Learn the damn lesson. Especially considering he was late because he’d gone out the night before.
But, well, logic wasn’t really on his mind right now. So, without thinking twice, he replied with a thumbs-up. No turning back. He was going out, he was going to drink, and this time, no regrets.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
The music thumped through every corner of the club, and the colorful lights flashed so intensely that they almost hurt to look at. Lamine had lost track of how many drinks he’d had by now, but it didn’t matter. He could hold his liquor well, so he didn’t feel drunk... yet.
Out of nowhere, his friend showed up, stumbling with a drink in his hand and rambling nonsense. Awful jokes that made Lamine wonder how someone could have so little sense of humor.
A few girls came over, some to dance, others just to drink together. Lamine, still growing, with hormones running wild and emotions all over the place, didn’t hesitate. Why not? He left his friend going on about his terrible jokes and joined a group of girls who, seeing that the football prodigy and Euro Cup champion wanted to dance with them, immediately made space for him. They exchanged knowing smiles and surrounded him.
Time passed in a blur of laughter, drinks, and moments he’d probably forget the next day. If someone asked how many girls he’d kissed that night, he probably wouldn’t have enough fingers on his hands and feet to count. Lamine knew even Balde, who was all about the party life, would scold him for how he was behaving. And better not to think about someone who wasn’t into it, like Gavi... he’d probably pull his ear as soon as he found out.
—Girls, I’m out, going to grab more drinks —he shouted over the pounding music.
He made his way through the crowd, bumping into a few people along the way and catching more than one insult. But he didn’t care. The only thing on his mind was getting more alcohol and keeping the party going.
Then, out of nowhere, a pair of clear eyes, with an indescribable color he’d recognize anywhere, appeared in his line of sight.
Those eyes...
Pau Cubarsí.
Lamine blinked, confused. Why was he thinking about him? Why, right now, were those eyes stuck in his head?
Wait… no, he wasn’t imagining it.
Pau was really there.
Lamine tensed up. What was someone like Cubarsí doing in a place like this?
Without thinking, Lamine pushed his way through the crowd, shoving people out of the way. When he finally reached him, Pau was sitting on one of the couches, staring off into space like he was about to pass out.
"What are you doing here?" Lamine asked, his voice unusually serious.
Pau looked up, raising an eyebrow at Lamine’s expression.
But, of course, Lamine was surprised. Cubarsí was the sweetest, purest guy he knew, with that innocent, angelic look and personality to match. Especially naive, so seeing him here alone freaked Lamine out—anyone could take advantage of him, and Lamine wasn’t about to let that happen.
"Did you come here by yourself?" Lamine asked, stepping closer.
The response caught him off guard.
"Why the hell does it matter to you?"
Lamine’s eyes widened. What? Seriously? Pau, the guy who practically cried when he found out Santa wasn’t real, just said that?
Then he noticed something else.
Pau’s cheeks were flushed, and the tip of his nose was red. It couldn’t be… was he drunk?
"Wait, wait… are you drunk?"
"I’m not!" Pau snapped, clearly irritated.
Lamine fought the urge to smile. Pau looked so damn cute, with his puffed cheeks and scrunched-up nose, that Lamine just wanted to pinch him—but now wasn’t the time.
"You definitely are," Lamine said calmly. "Come on, get up. I’m taking you home."
It wasn’t a request; it was an order.
Lamine grabbed Pau’s wrist to help him up, but Pau immediately pulled away.
"Leave me alone! Go away."
Lamine sighed, running a hand through his hair. If he was stubborn normally, now that he was drunk, it was even worse.
"Damn it, Pau, if you won’t listen to me nicely, you’ll listen to me the hard way."
Pau clenched his jaw, shooting him a defiant look.
"Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do?"
Lamine opened his mouth to reply, but stopped. He couldn’t believe it. The guy who never talked back, who avoided swearing at all costs, was acting like this.
It was so unreal.
But putting everything else aside, Lamine didn’t have the energy or patience to keep arguing with Pau, who clearly wasn’t all there. So, without thinking twice, he scooped him up like a sack of potatoes and carried him out of the club.
Pau, of course, didn’t stay still. He started wriggling in Lamine's arms, trying to break free.
“Let me go! Let me go, you idiot!” Pau shouted.
Lamine sighed, clearly resigned, but he wasn’t going to let this chaos keep going.
“If you don’t stop moving, I’ll drop you,” he warned in a serious tone, and the threat worked. Pau suddenly went still, stopping his kicking, though his expression was still sour.
“Alright, better get off now. You’re heavy. If you want me to carry you, it’s gonna be piggyback style.”
Lamine carefully set him down on the ground. Pau, a little dizzy but obedient, nodded and finally agreed.
“Whee, piggyback!” Pau cheered, laughing like a kid as he climbed onto Lamine’s back.
The ride to Pau’s house grew quieter with each step, and Lamine couldn’t help but think Pau had probably dozed off.
Lamine smiled to himself. It was all so chaotic... He never imagined being in a situation like this with Pau. What was even more surprising was how different Pau was when drunk. Sober Pau was always careful with his words, more reserved, and now here he was, acting completely different.
Yeah, this was pure chaos.
The silence between them was broken by Pau’s voice, soft and almost imperceptible.
—Lamine... —The younger boy stayed quiet, waiting for the older one to continue, not daring to interrupt the uneasy stillness.
—Why do you treat me like this?
—Like what? —Lamine replied with a small, tired laugh. What was Pau going to say now? What nonsense was he going to come up with?
—Don’t pretend you don’t know... —There was a noticeable tension in Pau’s voice, like something was about to snap. Lamine stayed silent, feeling an uncomfortable tightness in his chest as he waited for Pau to speak. What was going on?
—What if I really don’t know? —he whispered, though his words hung in the air. The street was empty, and the only sound was their footsteps. It felt like time slowed down for just the two of them.
—Then... —Pau’s voice trailed off, as if every word was taking more effort to say. Lamine listened in silence, unable to move—... Then you’d be breaking my heart into pieces.
Lamine froze, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. So, on top of being whiny and stubborn when drunk, Pau was also dramatic? But something inside him stirred, something deep, because despite how over-the-top the words sounded, there was a raw sincerity in Pau's voice that shook him.
—You’re pretending to care about me... giving me those looks like your eyes light up when you see me, telling me how adorable I am every time... how do you act so convincingly? —Pau paused for a moment, his voice growing emptier—... Aren’t you ashamed of playing with other people’s feelings?
Those words hit Lamine like a punch to the gut. This wasn’t just a simple argument. This was something much deeper, something real. Something that had been hidden beneath the surface for a long time. Lamine processed it, and suddenly he felt a wetness on his back. It was as if the tears had finally cracked the shell Pau had always built around himself. Without thinking, he lowered Pau from his back and faced him.
And then, Pau screamed. A scream that tore through Lamine’s heart. His voice was muffled by his hands, but the words were clear, painful, and Lamine felt something break inside of him.
—Why...? —Pau’s voice broke, his hand covering his face, but it couldn’t stop the pain in his words— Why do you have to treat me so well, make me fall for you until I can’t imagine loving anyone else... and then go around kissing other people, trampling all over my feelings like they don’t matter? Am I really that little to you?!
Pau’s sobs grew louder, uncontrollable. His words were a mix of agony and desperation, a cry for the pain to stop. Each word felt like a blow. Pau clung to Lamine’s shirt, pulling at it desperately, his lower lip trembling.
Lamine was paralyzed, his mind racing but unable to find the right words. He looked at Pau, not knowing how to respond, not knowing how to deal with this raw emotion. His body was frozen, but he felt something inside him crack. Seeing Pau like this, so vulnerable, so broken... it felt like a piece of him was being torn away.
—Pau... —Lamine’s voice was barely a whisper, cracked. —Look at me...
Lamine gently cupped Pau’s chin, lifting his head so their eyes would meet. When Pau’s eyes met his, Lamine’s heart skipped a beat. They were full of pain and anguish, so intense it felt like they were cutting straight through him.
Lamine felt time stop. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. His mind was blank, unable to form a single word as he looked into those broken eyes.
And before he could stop himself, Lamine pulled him into a tight hug, as if by doing so, he could somehow erase the pain, protect Pau from himself.
Pau weakly hit his chest, but it was futile. His tears kept falling, soaking Lamine’s shirt, but he didn’t pull away. He let Pau cry, knowing he needed to let it all out. Pau clung to him, like this was the only way the pain could end, as if this embrace could heal the wound he’d caused himself.
They stayed like that, in silence, with only Pau’s sobs filling the quiet night, no words, nothing else.
The dim light of the streetlights softly illuminated their figures, and while there were no promises that things would get better, that hug was the only thing they could offer each other in that moment.