Just Friends - Neymar Jr

51

I sat in one of the armchairs of the lobby, waiting for Valentina to pick me up. I told her to reschedule the shoot for this evening as I'd be leaving tomorrow. She tried to argue but I told her I had already made up my mind and she eventually gave in.

I just didn't understand why he was so angry, surely if he was really trying to prove to me he's 'worthy of my love' then he wouldn't be starting arguments over petty shit. Especially after I finally open up to him about personal things. He just made it all about himself.

"Amelia, we're parked round the corner," Steven came through the sliding doors in his suit to tell me they arrived. He walked me out to the car and kept people from bumping into me as I climbed in.

"No, private issues came up and-" Valentina paused, rolling her eyes as the person on the other end of the phone must've spoken over her. "I know, she knows. We wouldn't be doing this unless it was absolutely necessary, she's missing out on money too. Thank you for being so understanding and you'll see us in under an hour," she hung up the phone before they could argue, "Are you okay?"

I nodded, not knowing what to say. If I told her I had an argument with Neymar then it'd be a pathetic reason to leave but I couldn't tell her about the reason behind it or my parents.

Her eyes stayed glued to me as I pretended to be busy on my phone but she didn't press the matter any further, knowing that I'd talk to her if I was comfortable with it. She was good like that, I never felt pressured to do things and she was always so understanding. I think even If she wasn't my manager we'd still be friends.

She spoke after a few minutes of silence and the radio playing in the background, "I'm guessing Neymar is a factor in this which means you're probably going to hate me."
She winced as she spoke, making me raise a brow. "He's coming to the shoot and after your individual photos are taken you're doing some together."

My eyes went wide, "No! I'm not doing that. I'll go in, do mine and then leave."
"Amelia please. I'm already in loads of shit because of you dropping out of this, just do this one thing, an hour of your time and then you can be gone," she pleaded.
I took in a deep breath, "Fine. But don't think I'll be talking to him."
"I'm not asking for that," she smiled, "Thank you."

We pulled up to a large skyscraper, making my jaw drop as I looked up at the intimidating building.
"Amelia come on, we have to get you settled and sorted before they start," she grabbed my hand, pulling me inside.

———

"Right and you're ready girl!" The makeup artist was a tall dark skinned girl, maybe about nineteen or twenty. She was really nice and hyped me up the whole time she did my makeup.

I walked onto set and spotted Neymar already waiting to the side.
"Amelia Marchado?" A photographer was looking all over for me as I approached him, laughing awkwardly and wondering whether he got whiplash from how fast he turned his head left to right. "Ah! You're here. Stand in the centre."

I stood on the cross, shifting my weight to either side of my body as I posed. Neymar practically burnt holes into my side from how hard he was staring, as if photoshoots weren't awkward enough.

"Perfect! Michael give her a football and the boots."
A guy, I'm assuming was Michael, ran over in seconds and put the boots on for me even though I assured it wasn't necessary. He tied my laces as well before running out the frame again.

My eyes scanned the room for the photographer but I was soon faced with Neymar again, except this time his jaw was clenched and arms folded over his chest.

Everyone seemed to have tried to sneak a quick break as hardly any staff were in the room. I resorted to asking Neymar if he saw where he went but was met with a, "I'm sure Michael knows. Why don't you ask him?"