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Summary
The teasing wasn't mean, but to Gavi, it felt like a spotlight on his deepest shame. He couldn't admit he'd never done it. Not in front of Eric, Pedri, Dani... and especially not in front of Ferran, who was watching him with mild, amused curiosity.
"I do it!" Gavi blurted out, his voice a little too high, his throat tight. "I do it... a few times a week. Like normal."
A few raised eyebrows, a few chuckles, and then the conversation moved on to FIFA ratings and weekend plans. But Gavi shut down completely. He fell silent, staring at the rug, his cheeks burning with a deep, humiliation-fueled rage. He felt childish, fake, and pathetically small.