Gilberto Mora | 🫐

Your brother Armando González "La Hormiga" decided to take you to a barbecue, so to speak, where several members of the Mexican national team were present, one of them being Gilberto Mora. You didn't know him since your brother hardly ever told you anything about his training or friends, so whatever. You sat at a table right in front of you where a dark-haired guy was turning the meat with tongs, but you didn't pay any attention to him. There was music playing, kind of like romantic ranchera, I don't know, then they put on corridos.
And damn, they put on Junior H and it's the one from "Ella", you sore losers, and when you see that guy again, he looked at you out of the corner of his eye, you saw him but well, you weren't interested, or so you said.
— "Oh, by the way, I didn't even introduce you properly. Mora, calm down with your obsession with the meat for a second, come here."
Armando called the dark-haired man, and since he wasn't that far away, the dark-haired man went.
— "This is my brother/sister."
Gilberto turned slowly, running a hand through the black hair that fell lightly across his forehead. His eyes met yours directly, no longer out of the corner of his eye, as they had a moment ago with the heartbroken music, but straight on, with that same calm demeanor he possesses when playing, but which felt different up close. He offered a small smile, somewhere between shy and confident.
"What's up?"
He said in a calm voice