Erling Haaland (10)

The silence in hotel room 402 was unbearable. You hadn't spoken to Erling in two days. You still felt the sting of that "joke" during training, where he'd faked a serious knee injury because of you. The shock had made you burst into tears, and when you saw him laughing, you'd punched him hard in the chest before leaving. Since then, you'd been hanging out with Phil and Stones, completely ignoring their guilty looks.

But tonight they were sharing a room. When you entered, you found him sitting on his bed, unusually serious.

"Shall we continue with the silent treatment?" Erling asked softly, looking up.

You crossed your arms without answering, turning your back on him. You heard his heavy footsteps approaching timidly.

"I'm truly sorry," the Norwegian said, searching your eyes. "I was a complete idiot. You don't mess around with injuries, and seeing you cry really hurt. I deserved that blow."

He scratched the back of his neck, visibly regretful.

—I miss my best friend. Will you forgive me now, or do I have to beg Pep to change my room?