"Neymar Da Silva Santos," I heard my best friend, Belle, hum his name. The words rolling off her tongue as she scrolled through his Wikipedia page. "You're boyfriends only 175cm?"
"He's not my boyfriend, he's a organised lie," I complained, spiralling the glass I had creating a crimson tornado. I focused on it for a minute, awestruck by the changes my life had undergone.
"Not according to Wikipedia," She teased, showing me the page, rumoured to be dating Anastasia Valentine, I bit my lip at the photo of us. It was during the charity event, they had caught the right angle and made it look like we were kissing in the car through the tinted windows. "Look at you two,"
I took a sip of my wine, staring at my bestfriend as she scrolled through her phone. I sat across from her, feeling the face mask lay on my skin.
Abruptly ending the awkward silence, my phone pinged. Instinctively I opened the message, it was Neymar.
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"What are you smiling at?" She queried, trying to peek over at my phone.
"Ney, he invited me to a game this weekend," She gave me a look, the kind of look you give when you've proven yourself right. "It's not like that, it's just for publicity."
"Anastasia," She sat up, placing her phone down next to her, "Maybe he's just interested in you, I mean have you kissed?"
Her words were met with silence, her hand slapping over her mouth in shock. "It's not like that, we were drunk,"
"You still kissed,"
"Yeah but-" I couldn't think of a way to spin this. She was right, we had chemistry but I figured he was just like that with everyone. That the international footballer had a roster and I just got moved up. "He's my ex boyfriend!"
»»————- ♡ ————-««
"Ney?" I explored the building, hoping to bump into him. He hadn't told me where to go, rather to just go to the changing rooms yet I couldn't navigate through the maze. "Fucks sake,"
"Can I help you?" I heard a perplexed voice ask, I looked over and saw someone, finally. A tall man looking in confusion, his head slightly tilted, I rushed over to him, hoping he knew where to go.
"Do you know where the changing rooms are? I'm here to see Neymar," I asked, trying to avoid his confounded glare as I looked down at my phone, trying to see if Ney had texted me back. He hadn't.
"Sorry, he doesn't do fan meetups at this time. You'll have to go." He motioned towards the exit, of course he didn't tell anyone I was coming. I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to think of a way to convince him I wasn't a lunatic.
"I'm Anastasia," His face remained the same, "Valentine?"
"Okay and I'm Sergio?" He mocked my tone, "Ramos."
"I'm technically his girlfriend," I explained, showing him our messages as proof. He suddenly lit up, as though he had unlocked a hidden memory. My hands rested in my pockets, feeling the texture of my jeans between my fingers.
"You're that one!" That one? Signalling there are others that are also coming to see his games. "Yeah follow me I'll take you to the changing rooms,"
He shoved the doors open, a gust of body odour travelling to my face and the sight of half dressed men all staring straight at me. Awkward.
"He'll be out in a minute, he's just showering," One of them said, I awkwardly stood there. Trying to look at anything but the mound of shirtless men. My stare rushed to the floor, quickly grabbing my phone to avoid any eye contact. "There he is!"
He rushed over to me hurling me in his arms, almost pushing me over with how much more brawny he was than me. I rested my arm against his back, trying to avoid the embarrassment of hugging him in front of all his teammates.
"You made it," He had a childish grin as he pulled away, his fingers still lingering on my skin. I looked over at him, slightly glancing at his abs, biting my lip at the sight. He rushed over to his station to grab his shirt and then pulled me over to the pitch.
It was enormous, the pitch had lime green fake grass which seemed so stretch out forever and I already noticed the other team running around their end of the pitch. He rushed towards a ball that was on the pitch, he handled it between his legs, doing some tricks and dribbling it around me.
He passed me the ball yet my underwhelming skills meant I completely missed it, he chuckled at my performance before running after the ball. "You still can't play?" He asked, remising on when he tried to teach me years ago, I shook my head in disappointment. Watching as the rest of the team poured out of the changing rooms. I rushed to the bench, trying to avoid them.
The time went by slowly, I spent most of it on my phone or watching as he got tossed around by his teammates. Giggling at his cockiness on the pitch as he angrily tried to defend himself.
"Trainings over," he ran up to me, "Unless you want to play, you have to get off the bench." He joked, I rushed up and he led me towards the VIP section. The aroma of strong perfume surrounded me as I noticed real life barbie dolls surrounding me. I assumed they were just the girlfriends of football players.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
The ball was rushed across the pitch as Neymar dribbled it across the pitch. You could see the focus in his eyes as I leaned forwards in interest, he passed the ball rapidly before it was passed back, the ball being shot in the centre of the goal.
He began his celebrations, running off to his teammates and cheering in joy. After the initial joy he pointed over at me, blowing a kiss I followed his intentions with a large wave which was visible from the other side of the pitch.
At the end of the game, he rushed over towards me, picking me up in a hug as I flung my arms around him. We shared a slight squeal on the fact he won, enamoured by the excitement. "Well done!"
"I couldn't have done it without you being here," He mentioned, "You're my lucky charm,"
