Chapter Text
The voices in his head had been louder than usual for the past few days. He was used to the quiet of his own home, only disturbed by the occasional afternoon spent with Gavi playing video games in his room. But ever since the wedding had been announced, no one had allowed him much time alone to think about his future.
For as long as he could remember, he had been a loner. No school, no friends, no going outside. While other kids got to play tag or kick around a ball in the streets, he had been confined to watching them from the windows of his mansion, wondering how different his life might have been hadn't his mother died when he was very young. He wanted to believe his father wasn’t an evil man, but there was no point on calling him kind either. Even when his mother was alive, Pedri rarely saw him. She used to say it was because being the senator of Bolfut kept him too busy, but after years of neglect, Pedri knew better. His father just didn’t care enough.
Senator Tebas saw his only son as a liability, a pawn to use in his political games. Whenever his leadership or reputation was questioned, Pedri would get new toys, the latest videogame console, or a carefully staged day trip to a crowded public place. Headlines about the senator spending time with his son would flood newspapers across the planet, reminders for the citizens of how deeply both had been affected by the loss of Pedri’s mother. Within a week, pity would smooth things over, and Pedri would return to the mansion; trapped, alone and forgotten.
That was why, when during the latest meeting with his father –because they didn’t spend time together, they held meetings –Tebas informed him he would be marrying the prince of Akillian, Pedri was not surprised. Akillian was Bolfut’s nearest neighbouring planet, famously known for the football league they held every year; the best players in the galaxy competed in the Akillian league, and the best team was captained by none other than the prince himself: Ferran.
Despite rarely being able to play –football required 11 players and Pedri’s only company was a cat and occasionally, Gavi—he was a huge nerd. He had spent countless hours watching matches and analysing plays and tactics. Football was also what made Akillian Bolfut’s greatest economic rival. Where Bolfut had power and influence, Akillian had fame.
In Pedri’s 22 years of life, the two planets had come close to war more than once. Now, his father was trying to prevent that war by marrying him off to their heir. From a political standpoint, it was a smart move: as long as the marriage held, war would be off the table, and with Pedri in Akillian, Senator Tebas would gain influence.
Not that he had any say in his own life choices.
He hadn’t dared speak up, though. He would have to leave behind everything he had ever known. Leaving his home to live with a man he didn’t know, someone who probably hated him, was nothing like the life he had imagined. Sure, he had seen Ferran before. He was a star player, impressive on the field, and not unattractive. Everyone had heard about Barça’s captain. But admiring him from afar was one thing; living with him was another. For all Pedri knew, Ferran had been forced into this marriage just like he had. Still, if it meant finding Gavi, maybe it would be worth it.
A knock on the door pulled him back to reality, a faint voice letting him know everything was prepared. It was time. He got up and readjusted his red tie for what felt like the twentieth time. The door slid open as he approached, revealing a tiny woman in a black suit waiting on the other side. His father’s secretary.
“Okay,” Pedri said quietly. “I’m ready.” He didn't feel ready at all.
“This way, hon.”
Pedri responded with a subtle nod and followed her through the corridors of the palace the wedding would take place. The building felt strange to him, all blinding white, too clean, too open. He had spent his whole life between the brick walls and stone of Bolfut, so now he was overly aware of how his navy suit contrasted with the colourless Akillian architecture.
The tall ceilings and the polished marble walls gave the space a sense of royalty, while the high-tech doors clashed with its otherwise classical design. Pedri would have found it beautiful in another context, but now he kept his eyes focused on the high bun of the woman walking ahead of him. She talked non-stop, perhaps trying to comfort him, or maybe explaining the ceremony’s steps for the millionth time. He wouldn’t know.
The noise in his head grew louder as they moved down the corridors, and when she suddenly stopped, Pedri barely avoided bumping into her. They stood in front of a set of closed double doors. At some point, his inside voices had been drowned out by a low murmur of sounds on the other side; now he could clearly make out a crowd waiting for him. He told himself it was okay as he took a deep breath. After all, it wasn’t the first time strangers had stared at him.
The lady in the suit gestured at him.
“Sorry, what?” Pedri gave her a confused look. She might have pitied him; she didn’t look annoyed.
“They are already waiting for you,” she repeated. “The doors will open as soon as we give a signal.”
Pedri nodded. “Go ahead. Open the doors.”
Without making a sound, the white doors slowly swung open, revealing a gigantic room bursting with vibrant colours. Guests in bright suits and dresses mingled across the space, but near a corner, a line of black-suited figures observed the scene. His eyes locked on his father first. Tebas stood in the centre of the group, wearing a charcoal suit that made him look older, and somehow more intimidating than usual. Surrounding him were members of the senate, who had worked alongside him for years, though Pedri didn’t know their names.
Quickly, he broke eye contact; he didn’t like to stare at his father longer than necessary. His gaze swept across the room as his heartbeat quickened. He knew Gavi wouldn’t be there. He hadn’t seen or heard from his best friend in months, yet a small part of him still clung to hope.
It was not Gavi who caught his attention next, but a man in velvet standing in the exact centre of the room who was carefully watching him.
Ferran had his hair and beard slightly longer than the last time he had seen him on TV in a football match, but instead of looking messy, he seemed older. Maybe more in control of himself. Pedri’s heart skipped a beat. He could feel Ferran’s gaze on him, sharp and unreadable, the stern expression almost making him take a step back.
Almost.
Instead, he walked forward. The crowd fell silent. Pedri’s steps echoed as he approached Ferran, each one feeling louder than the last. The man didn’t move, didn’t even blink, he just watched. Pedri’s chest tightened, hands clammy at his sides. Ferran studying him as if he were a puzzle that couldn’t be solved, careful, yet not unkind. Pedri wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. His feet carried him towards the centre of the room until he was only a few paces away.
Words failed him, all that he managed was a brief, awkward smile. Ferran gave a faint nod in response. No words. Just an immovable presence. Pedri realised he had never been looked at like that before. It was as if all his flaws were being revealed, he should have been terrified, yet a strange calm settled over him.
At that exact moment, music began to play from somewhere in the hall. The ceremony had begun. There was no going back.