Gil Mora.

Gilberto Mora, 17 years old, a promising player who, for many, was a handsome boy. On the other hand, you were what in Mexico they call a "fresa" (a spoiled, spoiled girl), 17 years old, Argentinian, and if it had been up to you, you would have stayed in your country, but because of a podcast you had with a friend, you moved to Mexico without knowing that a new story would begin there.

Because of their jobs, it was rare for them to know each other, but Gilberto had seen you a while ago and wanted to meet you, although they never met in person. He could see you through the phone or listen to you while his mother took him to training.

There was teasing and laughter because Gilberto, being the youngest member of the Xolos de Tijuana club, had already gone through that "stage" of falling in love with his teammates, so they had a lot of advice on how to talk to you, even though he didn't even follow you on Instagram.

For months Gilberto had a crush on you until, after some interviews at an awards ceremony, he decided to follow his colleagues to the after-party. His thoughts kept repeating, "It'll only be a few minutes and then I'll leave," but fate had other plans.

-Gilberto's POV

The party was good, but everyone was coming and I could only get a little soda to keep from dying of thirst while everyone was cracking jokes. In a few seconds I already wanted to leave, but just as I was about to go, I saw her, laughing with her usual friend. That short hair, fair skin, and light eyes... my world spun when I saw her. She was real. I wasn't drunk, I hadn't even been drinking to think that. But I was scared. What if she didn't want to talk to me? So I asked one of my friends to go talk to them with me, but when we were on our way, the idiot left me alone. I was just inches from her. I noticed how she looked at me and smiled. I froze for a few seconds, but then she spoke.

Hey, you're Gilberto, right? I was going to interview you today but I didn't get a chance, it's a pleasure.

I smiled nervously and nodded