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Port Aventura, August 2022
The August sun blazed over Salou, casting a golden haze across Port Aventura’s sprawling grounds. The air buzzed with the hum of roller coasters, the shrieks of thrill-seekers, and the sugary scent of churros wafting from nearby stalls. Pedri González adjusted his cap, tugging it low over his eyes as he trailed behind Ferran Torres and his girlfriend, Sira Martínez. The trio had just passed through the park’s entrance, and already, Pedri felt like he was intruding on their date.
“Mate, you’re gonna love this place,” Ferran said, clapping a hand on Pedri’s shoulder. His grin was wide, infectious, the kind that made Pedri’s stomach do a little flip he’d never admit to. “They’ve got this one coaster, Shambhala...drops so steep you’ll feel your soul leave your body.”
Pedri forced a laugh, glancing at Sira. She was walking a step ahead, her arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her sunglasses hid her eyes, but Pedri could feel the weight of her gaze whenever it flicked his way. “Sounds intense,” he said, keeping his tone light. “You sure I’m not gonna die on one of these things?”
Ferran laughed, his hand lingering on Pedri’s shoulder a second too long. “Nah, I’ve got you. Won’t let you fall apart, promise.”
Sira’s head turned slightly, her ponytail swishing. “He’ll be fine, Ferran,” she said, her voice clipped. “Pedri’s a big boy. He can handle a roller coaster.”
Pedri’s smile faltered. There it was again, that edge in her tone, sharp enough to cut but vague enough to make him question if he’d imagined it. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to earn it. They’d met a handful of times, mostly at team events or casual hangouts, and she’d always been polite, if distant. But today, something was off.
“He's not a big boy, look how short he is!" Pedri rolled his eyes as Ferran continued talking. "Course he can,” Ferran said, oblivious to the tension. He slung an arm around Pedri’s shoulders, pulling him closer as they navigated the crowd. “But I’m still gonna look out for him. Can’t have our star midfielder fainting on us, right?”
Pedri rolled his eyes again, a constant habit bound to occur when around Ferran, but his cheeks warmed. “I’m not gonna faint, Ferran.”
“Sure, sure,” Ferran teased, ruffling Pedri’s hair. “We’ll see how you hold up when we’re 75 meters in the air.”
Sira’s lips twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. “Can we just pick a ride already?” she said, adjusting her sunglasses. “I didn’t come here to stand around all day.”
Ferran nodded, his arm still around Pedri. “Alright, alright. Let’s hit Furius Baco first. It’s a launch coaster like zero to 135 kilometers an hour in three seconds. You in, Pedri?”
Pedri’s stomach twisted, but not because of the coaster. He’d been riding these things since he was a kid, sneaking off to local fairs in Tenerife with his brother. He loved the rush, the way gravity seemed to vanish for a split second at the peak of a drop. But as he glanced at Ferran’s eager face, then at Sira’s stiff posture, a strange impulse took hold. A little voice in the back of his head whispered, Play it up. See what happens.
“Uh, I don’t know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “That sounds… kinda scary.”
Ferran’s eyes widened, then he burst out laughing. “Scary? You? Mister doesn’t flinch when defenders are sliding into you at full speed? Come on, Pedri, don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little roller coaster.”
Pedri shrugged, leaning into the act. “I’m just saying, those things look intense. What if I, like, pass out or something?”
Sira snorted, barely audible, but Pedri caught it. She muttered something under her breath, too low for him to make out. Ferran, meanwhile, was eating it up, his grin growing wider.
“Oh, this is gold,” Ferran said, nudging Pedri’s side. “Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand if you get scared, yeah?”
Pedri’s heart skipped, and he covered it with a weak laugh. “You’re the worst.”
“Relax, I’ve got you,” Ferran said, his tone softer now, almost sincere. He gave Pedri’s shoulder a squeeze before letting go, turning to Sira. “You cool with Furius Baco, babe?”
Sira shrugged, her voice flat. “Whatever you guys want.”
─ ⊹ ⊱꒰🎟️꒱⊰ ⊹ ─
The line for Furius Baco was long, the queue snaking through a shaded area decorated with faux vineyard trellises. Ferran filled the wait with stories about his first time at Port Aventura, gesturing wildly as he described nearly losing his phone on Dragon Khan. Pedri listened, nodding along, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Sira was watching him. Every time he glanced her way, she was looking elsewhere...at her phone, at the ride, at Ferran...but the air around her felt heavy and Pedri felt like she might be upset with him.
“Hey, you’re awfully quiet, Sira,” Pedri said finally, trying to bridge the gap. “You excited for this?”
She looked at him, her sunglasses reflecting his own nervous expression. “Sure,” she said, her tone neutral but her smile tight. “I just hope you don’t scream too loud. Wouldn’t want to embarrass Ferran.”
Ferran laughed, slinging an arm around Sira this time. “He’s not gonna scream. Right, Pedri?”
Pedri scratched his cheek, playing up the nervous act. “No promises.”
Ferran’s eyes sparkled with mischief, jumping up and down while shaking Sira's shoulders, his voice sing-songy. “Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with this.”
When they finally reached the front of the line, Pedri’s fake nerves were starting to feel a little too real. Not because of the coaster, screw the coaster. Realistically, he could handle that blindfolded. But God help him, Ferran was standing so close, his shoulder brushing Pedri’s as they shuffled toward the ride’s loading area. Sira was on Ferran’s other side, her arms crossed again, her silence louder than the coaster’s roar as the
The ride’s restraints locked into place, and Pedri glanced at Ferran, who was grinning like a kid on the first Christmas after their father got a work bonus. “Ready for this, scaredy-cat?” Ferran asked, leaning closer.
Pedri swallowed, his throat dry. “Not really.”
Ferran’s laugh was drowned out by the sudden lurch of the coaster. The launch hit like a rocket, pinning them back against the seats as the world blurred into streaks of color. Pedri’s hands gripped the restraints, but then he felt it: Ferran’s hand grabbing his, warm and steady, squeezing just before the coaster shot into its first twist.
“Hold on, baby!” Ferran shouted over the wind, his voice bright with excitement.
Pedri’s heart was pounding, but it wasn’t the speed or the loops. It was Ferran’s hand, still holding his, even as the coaster barreled through its course. He stole a glance at Sira, seated on Ferran’s other side. Her face was unreadable, her hands gripping her own restraints, her body stiff.
When the ride screeched to a stop, Ferran let go of Pedri’s hand, but the warmth lingered. “You good?” Ferran asked, his eyes searching Pedri’s face.
Pedri nodded, catching his breath. “Yeah. Didn’t faint, so that’s a win.”
Ferran laughed, clapping him on the back. “Told you I’d get you through it.”
Sira unbuckled her restraint and stood, brushing her hair back. “Can we do something else now?” she asked, her voice sharp enough to cut through the post-ride adrenaline.
Ferran blinked, as if just remembering she was there. “Yeah, sure. Let’s hit some games or something. Sound good, Pedri?”
Pedri nodded, avoiding Sira’s gaze. “Sure.”
─ ⊹ ⊱꒰🎡꒱⊰ ⊹ ─
The carnival game area was a riot of color and noise, with flashing lights and barking vendors. Ferran zeroed in on a ring-toss game, his competitive streak flaring. “Watch and learn, Pedri,” he said, tossing a coin to the vendor. “I’m about to clean this mother out.”
Sira leaned against a nearby railing, her arms crossed again. “Don’t waste all your money, Ferran,” she said, but her tone was more resigned than playful.
Ferran waved her off, his focus on the game. He tossed the first ring, missing by a mile, and Pedri couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, you’re cleaning them out, alright,” Pedri teased. Sira actually smiled a little.
“Shut up,” Ferran grinned, elbowing him. “I’m warming up.” Sira stopped smiling.
Three tosses later, Ferran landed a ring perfectly around a bottle, earning a cheer from the vendor. “Winner!” the man shouted, gesturing to a rack of stuffed animals. Ferran’s eyes lit up as he scanned the prizes, finally pointing to a ridiculous yellow stuffed banana with googly eyes.
“That one,” he said, then turned to Pedri, holding it out. “For you, scaredy-cat. Something to cuddle when you’re freaking out on the next ride.”
Pedri’s face flushed, but he took the banana, clutching it to his chest. “You’re an idiot,” he muttered, but his smile betrayed him.
Sira’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Cute,” she said, her voice dripping with something Pedri couldn’t quite place. “You gonna win me something too, or is Pedri getting all the prizes today?”
Ferran laughed, oblivious. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ve got you.” He paid for another round, and this time, he won again, picking out a plush panda for Sira. She took it with a small smile, but her eyes flicked to Pedri, and the air grew heavy again.
─ ⊹ ⊱꒰🎢꒱⊰ ⊹ ─
As the day wore on, they hit more rides: Dragon Khan, Stampida, Shambhala. Each time, Pedri leaned harder into his fake fear, hesitating at the queue entrances, muttering about how he wasn’t sure he could handle it. Ferran ate it up, teasing him mercilessly but always staying close, always finding an excuse to grab his hand or sling an arm around his shoulders.
“You’re such a baby,” Ferran said as they approached Hurakan Condor, a towering drop ride. “You sure you’re up for this one? I don’t want you crying on me.”
Pedri bit his lip, playing along. “I’m not crying. I just… need a second.”
Ferran grinned, stepping closer. “Don’t worry, I’m right here. Won’t let you fall.”
Sira, who had been trailing behind, stopped dead in her tracks. “Ferran,” she said, her voice sharp enough to make both boys turn. “He’s fine. You don’t need to babysit him on every single ride.”
Ferran frowned, caught off guard. “I’m just making sure he’s good, Sira. He’s not used to this stuff.”
“He’s an adult,” she snapped, her sunglasses now pushed up onto her head, revealing eyes that burned with frustration. “He can handle a stupid ride without you holding his hand like he’s your girlfriend.”
Pedri’s stomach dropped, the word girlfriend hitting like a punch. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Ferran spoke first.
“Chill, Sira,” Ferran said, his tone light but with an edge of defensiveness. “I’m just looking out for my mate. What’s the big deal?”
Sira’s jaw tightened. “The big deal is I’m standing here like an idiot while you two act like I don’t exist.”
Ferran’s brow furrowed. “That’s not what’s happening. Come on, let’s just..."
“Forget it,” Sira cut him off, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m done. I’m going home.”
“Sira, wait-” Ferran started, but she was already walking away, her panda plush tucked under her arm. Ferran took a step after her, then stopped, glancing back at Pedri.
Pedri’s heart was racing, guilt and something else (something he didn’t want to name) swirling in his chest. “Hey, it's okay. Go after her,” he said quietly. “I’ll be fine.”
Ferran hesitated, his eyes flickering between Pedri and Sira’s retreating figure. Finally, he shook his head. “She needs to cool off. Let’s just… keep going. You want to hit another ride?”
Pedri swallowed, nodding. “Yeah. Sure.”
─ ⊹ ⊱꒰🦈꒱⊰ ⊹ ─
The rest of the day passed in a blur of rides and laughter, but the absence of Sira hung over them like a shadow. Ferran seemed determined to keep things light, cracking jokes and dragging Pedri onto every coaster they passed. Pedri kept up the scared act, mostly because it kept Ferran close, kept him teasing and touching and smiling in a way that made Pedri’s chest ache.
By the time the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, they were both exhausted, their voices hoarse from shouting. Ferran drove Pedri back to his apartment in Barcelona, the stuffed banana sitting in Pedri’s lap like a silent witness to the day.
“Thanks for coming out,” Ferran said as he pulled up to Pedri’s building. He turned in his seat, his eyes soft in the dim light. “I had a good time.”
Pedri smiled, his throat tight. “Yeah. Me too.”
Ferran reached over, his hand hovering for a moment before he gently patted Pedri’s cheek. The touch was light, playful, but it sent a jolt through Pedri’s body, his skin tingling where Ferran’s fingers had brushed. “You did good today, scaredy-cat,” Ferran said, his voice low, teasing, but with a warmth that made Pedri’s chest tighten. “Didn’t faint once.”
Pedri’s breath caught, his eyes meeting Ferran’s in the dim glow of the car’s dashboard. For a split second, the world seemed to pause. Ferran’s gaze flickered downward, lingering on Pedri’s lips, and Pedri felt his own eyes drawn to Ferran’s mouth—the curve of it, the way it always seemed to carry a hint of a smile, even now. The air between them felt charged, heavy with something unspoken, something Pedri didn’t dare name. He was afraid if he named it, it wouldn't have the same meaning for Ferran.
His heart pounded, and before he could overthink it, Pedri leaned forward, pressing a quick, impulsive kiss to Ferran’s cheek. It was barely a brush of lips, over in an instant, but it left Pedri’s face burning. “Night,” he mumbled, fumbling with the door handle, his voice barely above a whisper. He grabbed the stuffed banana and practically bolted out of the car, not daring to look back as he hurried toward his apartment building.
Ferran sat there, stunned, his hand drifting to his cheek where Pedri’s lips had been. A slow, soft smile spread across his face, his heart doing something funny in his chest. He shook his head, letting out a quiet laugh as he put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. The streets of Barcelona blurred past, but his mind was still back in that moment...the warmth of Pedri’s breath, the quick press of his lips, the way his eyes had looked under the streetlights.
By the time Ferran got home, his apartment was dark, the city’s hum a faint backdrop. He kicked off his shoes, flopped onto his bed, and stared at the ceiling. His thoughts drifted to Pedri; his nervous laughter in the coaster queues, the way he’d clung to Ferran’s hand on Furius Baco, the shy smile he’d given when Ferran handed him that ridiculous banana. Ferran’s smile widened, his eyes fluttering shut. He fell asleep with Pedri’s face in his mind, the memory of that feeling of Pedri's lips on his cheek lingering.
Back at his apartment, Pedri shut the door behind him and leaned against it, his heart still racing. The stuffed banana was still clutched in his arms, its googly eyes staring up at him as if it knew exactly what he’d just done. “Stupid,” he muttered to himself, tossing the plush onto his couch and running a hand through his hair. His cheek still burned where Ferran had touched him, and his lips tingled with the memory of that impulsive kiss.
He sank onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. His mind was a mess, replaying the day: the way Ferran had laughed, the way his hand had felt so sure and warm in Pedri’s, the way he’d looked at him in the car just now. Pedri’s stomach twisted with a mix of guilt and longing. Sira’s face flashed in his mind...her sharp words, her frustration, the way she’d stormed off. He hadn’t meant to make her feel like a third wheel, but he couldn’t deny the truth that had been gnawing at him all day.
He wanted to be the one Ferran looked at like that. Not Sira. Not anyone else. Just him.
Pedri pulled the stuffed banana into his lap, tracing its silly features with his thumb. He imagined what it would be like if things were different. If Ferran’s teasing smiles were meant for him alone. If those casual touches lingered longer. If that moment in the car had ended with something more than a fleeting kiss on the cheek. His chest ached with the weight of it, the impossible want that he couldn’t shake.
He lay back, closing his eyes, the day’s exhaustion pulling him under. As he drifted off, his mind painted a picture of Ferran, his laugh, his touch, his voice saying I’ve got you, and Pedri let himself imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like if Ferran felt the same way.
─ ⊹ ⊱꒰🎱꒱⊰ ⊹ ─
The next morning, Pedri woke to the soft buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He rubbed his eyes, still groggy, and grabbed it, expecting a message from his brother or one of the guys from the team. Instead, it was Ferran.
“Yo, scaredy-cat. You survive the night without that banana protecting you? 😜 Let’s hang again soon.”
Pedri’s heart skipped, a smile tugging at his lips as he typed back a quick reply. "Barely. Banana’s my new bodyguard." and then another one "But I guess I'll indulge you. Name a time.”
He hit send, then lay back, staring at the ceiling again. The stuffed banana sat on his couch, a reminder of the day before, of the line he’d crossed and the feelings he couldn’t ignore. Somewhere across the city, Ferran was probably reading his message, maybe smiling that same easy smile that made Pedri’s world tilt.
For now, that was enough. But as Pedri got up to start his day, the little voice in the back of his head whispered again, quieter this time, but no less persistent: What if?