~~~

Gavi rubbed his shaky hands together in a horrible attempt to mask the nervousness consuming him, as he nodded mindlessly at the pleasantries Laporta engaged in. His knees bounced up and down in abrupt shaky movements ,while he released shallow breaths in quick succession, unable to stop the ringing in his ears from all the excitement coursing through his veins.

For as long as he could remember, all he'd ever wanted was to be in the Blaugrana colours, representing the club of his dreams as a part of the first team.

He had grown up in La Masia; being the son of a midfield legend at the time had easily gotten him into the children's academy. But even at the tender age of just three, every coach and trainer could easily tell that the boy had talent, that he wasn't just another entitled son of a professional footballer entrusted into the academy through his father's connections.

Suffice it to say, Gavi had never struggled to impress anyone; people immediately fell in awe of his natural talent and charm on the field, every movement, every touch seemed so effortless and clean. His style of play was a delight to the audience.

And perhaps it was ironic, or some may even call it pitiful but the only person the young boy ever wanted to impress was his father, and yet despite all the so called talent he possessed, despite what his coaches proclaimed, regardless of the multiple articles on him...He couldn't... no matter what he did, or how he played, he was never 'enough'.

Pablo knew the reason all too well,  and yet he had always swallowed down that thought, drowning it with every other reason imaginable but it was inevitable.

'Its because I'm an Omega.." he'd whisper to himself in the dead of night as tears slid down his cheek and seeped into the pillows underneath. The stabbing pain in his heart caused by his inability to change a part of him he was assigned with at birth...

And for some twisted reason, Pablo could never bring himself up to disagree with his father's opinions, always so pliant and obedient; even questioning his own skills just because the man said so. He held on to his father's every word as though a hanging branch of which, if he let go, he'd fall a thousand miles into the unknown dark abyss .

And it had been the same father's heartless decision to send his teenage son alone to a country whose language he couldn't even speak! Gavi had arrived at Manchester United just 15 years old- wide eyed, clutching tight onto his suitcase, soaking in innocence and fear just to 'prove himself'...

Prove himself, not to the world, not the coaches, not even the fans... But to his own father.

To show him that he went beyond the 'Hernandez' name and pride, beyond his father's far reaching influence in Spain.

And he'd succeeded so successful at the English club that every European giant sang his name all summer for the transfer window that year and fate had played a game of its own, bringing him back to Barcelona.

Bringing him back home...

"-and we can't wait to see you unravel your full potential and  reach your peak at this club."  Laporta's melodious voice interupted his train of thoughts.

"Thank you very much for the opportunity, Sir." The young talent replied in a civil tone, fiddling with his fingers.

"Thank 'you' Gavira for joining us once again." He spoke, reaching out his hand for the young Catalan to shake, "Now, your father will be waiting for you outside and you can meet the rest of the team."  Laporta's wide smile made his eyes crinkle in delight.

Gavi walked out of the Club President's office to find his father outside as expected. He had his arms crossed tightly over his chest and a stern expression resting over his features.

He walked over to the young boy who had his eyes on the floor,

"I hope you didn't embarrass me in there." His voice sounded as cold and harsh as ever.

"N-No , Sir."  Gavi couldn't even comprehend what he possibly could've done wrong in a simple conversation with Laporta.

"Okay then, follow me." Xavi turned, moving quickly in the direction of the locker rooms, never once looking back at his boy to offer an encouraging smile to ease out his nerves, or even a look of validation to indicate that he'd come far, something along the lines of,  ' I'm proud of you' was all Gavi craved for

"Listen" his father's icy words pierced the tense air between them once again, " Now that you're here, I don't care what you'll have to give up; your blood, sweat and tears, I want everything on the field. I don't care if you die trying..." He paused, his monotone voice held not an ounce of affection, "Don't you dare bring down the family name..." He seethed.

"Ye-Yes, Sir." Gavi stuttered weakly, nodding his head .

People always called him reckless for dangerous head dives and relentlessly unforgiving tackles, his unrestrained aggression regardless of the score status... for giving everything on the pitch.

It had always been all or nothing for him, his blood, sweat and tears, and nothing less...

"Pablo!!!" Ansu's cheery voice penetrated through the cold atmosphere created by the father-son duo.

"Ansu!! " Gavi rushed towards his old best friend, engulfing him in a warm hug; a hug releasing years of pent up 'I missed you' s.

"Oh." Ansu turned towards their coach acknowledging his presence, "Goodmorning Sir!"

"Goodmorning, boy.." Xavi patted the youngster's back before adding, "Why don't the two of you catch up, and I also entrust you with the duty to introduce him to the rest of the team. Okay?"

"Yes, Sir!" Ansu imitated a salutation before dragging Gavi along with him to the locker rooms.

The youngest let out a breath of relief on finally escaping his father's presence.

But he had barely caught his breath when he was made to gasp again, as he looked around the room, it was like a museum for Gavi; jersey numbers of the most famous players in the world strung below their names, pictures of the said players striking poses alongside each locker. For Gavi, everything looked like it was crafted in gold, shining too bright for his eyes to focus on one sight.

A few players were seated in their respected places, talking amongst themselves. Ansu pulled Gavi towards them in a brief motion,

"Guys! You already know him, but for formality's sake, this is Gavi, our new Starboy!" Ansu announced his friend's arrival proudly, hands gesturing at the boy next to him.

The three players;  Frenkie, Araujo and Christensen all looked up with welcoming smiles and formally introduced themselves to the young talent .

Pablo was a nervous wreck; mentally reminding himself over and over not to bite his nails or tap his feet to expose his inner turmoil, in addition to all that, he felt a little star-struck meeting all of them at once.

However, his main concern was how his new teammates would perceive his second gender, he didn't want to seem as a weak Omega, overwhelmed by the Betas and Alphas around him.

Football was still amongst the few sports unwelcoming to Omegas and he wanted to prove to them that he was different; that he was better.

And perhaps it was Gavi's biggest tragedy, that he'd have to spend the rest of his life proving himself  to people ...

His previous teammates had been highly accepting of his Omega status; treated him as their equal with respect and dignity . The English club had really nurtured his growth and enabled him to cultivate his talent in a safe and supportive environment. And for that he'd always have a soft spot for the club.

ManU hadn't received the opportunity to face Barca in any leagues, tournaments nor friendlies ever since he'd started playing for the first team, making this the first time he was going to meet all his new teammates.

After receiving a pleasant welcome from the seniors , Gavi and Ansu walked off to their corner of the room, changing into the training kit, obviously we're gonna ignore the part where Gavi stared at his jersey number 6; Xavi's old number, in Blaugrana colours for a good five minutes .

Ansu showed him around the training camp and the facilities available, they bumped into several other players and trainers along the way, and Gavi was just as rigid and awestruck by everyone; rubbing his clammy hands on his pants to dry them out before shaking hands with the professionals, bumping fists, awkward side hugs, back pats, shoulder pats , head pats, hair ruffles.... the list goes on.

Safe to say, Gavi was drained of social battery as an introvert.

"There's someone you have yet to meet..." Ansu teased his with a slight smile.

"Who?" Gavi frowned, genuinely confused.

"The player whose posters are pasted all over the walls of your childhood room, whose jersey number of every season is stacked neatly in your closet, the one whose skills made you fall in love with the beautiful game, the footballer who you've idolised since forever, the one you-"

"Shhhh..." Pablo clamped a hand over his friend's mouth, silencing him with a flushed face, red blush apparent on his cheeks.

"Can you quiet down Ansu? There's staff members passing by and God... I don't wanna sound like a creep." Gavi whisper-yelled.

"Creep? " Ansu moved away, eyes wide in (maybe) over dramatized shock, "That's normal behaviour from everyone when it comes to him, considering we're talking about the legend himself, Pedro González Lopèz. "

A/N: I'm so sorry this took much longer than expected. 😭 The chapters in this story are going to be short with regular updates. I'm actually already working on chapter 2, so hopefully it'll be out by tomorrow. Also, this first chapter is not at all how I planned it initially, I've deleted the previous drafts more than 10 times before this one appeared somehow acceptable.