Cris had to admit that he felt a little lonely tonight. Sure, he knew a lot of people at the gala and some of his teammates were here. It's not even that he minded Leo winning. It was not a surprise. It was just that he couldn't help but think of how it was a year ago - with his whole family with him.
His eyes roamed restlessly around the glittering ballroom. There was Leo, man of the hour. How shy he seemed. He stuck to his people. He was always with his girlfriend, or his parents, or one of his brothers.
His eyes travelled to the other side of the room, and alighted curiously on Neymar. He was sitting in a chair with a leg over his knee, looking young and sleek. He hunched down slightly, chin resting in the palm of his hand, like a child. He was with a big group of friends, yet he seemed...
Cris followed Neymar's gaze, all the way to the other side of the room. It took him back to Leo. Of course. Leo was sitting between his mother and his girlfriend, giggling helplessly at something. Cris couldn't help cracking a smile.
So this is how it was.
He stood up, smoothing down his clothes. Marcelo and Sergio appeared, bearing tequila shots. He politely brushed them off and walked purposefully towards Neymar. It fascinated him how Neymar stared across the room at Leo with such intense concentration. So much so that he didn't even notice Cris stalking towards him, until he was close and looming over him.
He looked up and blinked a couple of times, as if waking up from deep sleep. Then he suddenly grinned. Cris was a little taken aback, and rather taken in by the charming smile.
"Hello," he said, "Enjoying yourself?"
"Yep!" Neymar replied, perking up, "It's so great to be here! Such a privilege to..."
"Oh stop," Cris smiled, rolling his eyes, "I'm not interviewing you."
Neymar giggled, and Cris found that strangely charming too. He noticed the pointy teeth, the tongue peeking out a little.
"What about you?" he was saying, "having a ball?"
"It's okay," Cris answered honestly.
"Yeah," Neymar leaned back, "I'm having an okay time too."
"Can I get you a drink?"
Neymar raised an eyebrow.
"You do know that it's an open bar?"
Cris smiled.
"That's just a way of saying I want to talk to you."
"Oh."
"You're allowed to fraternize with the enemy at these things Neymar. That's kind of the point."
"You would know."
"Yes, I would."
Cris waited patiently as Neymar's eyes flitted over to his friends. His friends were having a great time, drinking and laughing merrily.
"Don't tell me you'd rather sit here staring at him," Cris bit out finally, tired of waiting.
Neymar jerked his head up, a frown clouding his face. He looked rather shocked.
"What? Wh...who?"
Cris laughed, not unkindly he hoped.
"You know who I'm talking about," he replied gently.
Neymar stood up abruptly, his chair dragging jarringly on the floor. He looked flustered and embarrassed, and Cris felt a little bad. He placed his hand lightly on Neymar's arm.
"Come on," he said softly, "I'm not enjoying myself here at all. I want to go to a quieter place and I'd like some company. You'd be doing me a favour."
