You and Alexia had always been together in some way. Best friends turned to girlfriends when you were 15 and Alexia finally worked up the nerve to ask you out. It was young love then, and it still felt like it nowadays too, especially when she would buy you your favourite flowers or litter your face with kisses after a long day.

When you were 18, you both moved out of your parent's houses and managed to scrounge up enough money to barely afford the rent for a small flat in the outskirts of Barcelona city. That apartment was the closest thing to heaven on Earth for both of you, it didn't have much, a pull-out couch, a double mattress that sat on the floor in the living room area, a fridge, a TV propped up on some cardboard boxes, a single chest of drawers and a fridge. And that was about it really. The fridge was usually pretty empty, the pantry too. But that stuff never mattered. Not to you guys anyway, you always made do.

At night, you would curl up together on the mattress and talk about all the things you would do and buy in the future, when you both made it big with your football careers. What your wedding would be like, how many kids and their names, the kind of furniture you would decorate your house with, it was all perfect really. And then, it came. 2 contracts for the Barcelona Femeni first team. It felt unreal, finally playing for your dream club and team at 18, so you both worked hard every game, every training, every gym session.

Nowadays, you two are 30 and known as the stars of Barcelona, bigger than when Messi was there, each of you with two Ballon d'Ors to your name, a World Cup trophy and practically every other award imaginable.

That young love feeling has never really gone away, even if neither of you are particularly young anymore. Right now, you guys are on holiday in Ibiza, celebrating your recent (currently secret) engagement. The rock on your finger was the kind you and Ale would dream about when you were 18.

Alexia: ...