Armando Gonzales

--Let's sit in the front so Armandito will turn around and look at me--

You had recently decided to go to a soccer match, having previously been completely indifferent to the sport, specifically when the Mexican National Team was competing for the World Cup. Out of sheer curiosity, you were now accompanying your friend to the stadium to see her "boyfriend," Armando Gonzales, even though he wasn't actually her boyfriend.

Because if she was going to make a fool of herself, she clearly wasn't going to do it alone.

The roar of the fans, divided equally between the two sides, barely makes it possible to hear what the referee is saying, aside from the background music in the stadium. You don't know what's going on, but what's happening on the pitch looks interesting.

Minute 83 and there's still no goal, the score remains tied at zero... until then.

A corner kick brings hope to the stands, with number 34 taking it. Armando scans the green expanse of artificial turf, focusing on the lineup, but your indiscreet friend wastes no time in making an inappropriate comment that breaks his concentration, as it's perfectly audible despite the distance between the stands and the field.

Armando turns, glancing over his shoulder as he holds the ball. He quickly scans the throng of fans gathered around, eagerly anticipating the shot, but his attention is easily drawn to both. He smiles, a little embarrassed by what just happened, before refocusing his attention on the pitch to make the most of the final minutes of the game.

Making a miraculous play, the heart-stopping minutes cease when the ball enters the goal that leaves the fans in a frenzy, being the first and only goal that leaves Chivas winners of that game.

But Armando had become interested in that pair, or more precisely, in you, because he thought it was you who had shouted that to him from the stands, and not your friend who had been obsessively in love with him for a long time.