ᶠÚᵗᵇᵒˡ Oɴᴇsʜᴏᴛs ⎳⎳

Mistake (Neymessi)

Everyone's attention was on the little boy with soft, brown hair who seemed to be running ahead of his father- a man wearing a simple blue blazer with a white tee underneathe. His curly brown hair fair to that of the little boy's hair bounced softly as he sprinted across the hall to prevent the toddler from running.

Everyone in the lobby stopped and took a moment to stare at the toddler who giggled in his father's arms, frantically moving his head to look around at the people out of curiosity- why they'd be staring at him so wide eye-d.

Neymar himself couldn't process why they'd be staring at the two in such a way: wide eye'd, immediately stopping what they're doing. Not that Neymar's beauty struck them (it did) but there was something that they knew that had sunk beneathe the surface, but now rose to the surface like a reincarnated soul from it's dead and rotting body.

But Neymar didn't know what's so interesting about them that it's making their eyes pop. Nonetheless, he ignores it and manages to make it to the elevator past all the stares and gossips that began to surface the moment the lift doors were begining to shut close.

The little boy smiled at his father, now being put down- suddenly changing into a boy who's much well-behaved. Neymar placed a soft kiss on his cheeks before holding his hand and walking out of the elevator, making it to the small table with a woman accompanying it- who seems to give off such outwardly negative energy that Neymar can nearly smell it. He knows it when women are bitchy.

The woman looks up at him as he taps the table. She throws on a fake smile that Neymar is accustomed to seeing, and also doing. He does the same, immediately starting to despise the woman inwardly, noticing how she's raking her eyes over his body and rolling them out of the sight of her sockets. The first thing that's a red flag to Neymar, from a woman.

The woman passes him a card, with letters in gold- the Card's base color off-white: like it couldn't get any bougier. Before Neymar left, he forced himself to turn back to the lady. He wouldn't if he knew the way to their boss's office, well. He wasn't at all interested in seeing her roll her eyes at him again.

- "What's the way to the Boss's room?"

- "Go straight and to the left, you'll see a big door with a golden plate. And yeah, knock before opening."

Neymar nods and leaves for the room. He takes a deep breathe and squats down, placing his hands on his son's shoulders, looking souls deep into the toddler's eyes that charmed a perfect glint, just like his father's.

- "Wait here okay? I'll be back in a few minutes..stand here like a good boy. Don't go too far. Okay?"

- "Okay pai" Neymar smiled and kissed his cheeks before fixing his blazer and checking his breathe- knocking on the door twice. Before his hands could land onto the polished surface of the door, a 'come in', emerged.

Oddly, the voice sounded familiar. But Neymar couldn't reckon who's it was, and not that it was something so important to bother himself to think about now. What he needed right now is, a job.

So he pushed the door open and pushed it back shut, before standing still and straight- welcomed by the slick back of a big leather chair that had a dull gleam under the daylight flooding into the cold and silent room from the glass wall behind the table. It showed a picture perfect veiw from 15 stories high of the busy streets of the city.

Neymar only waited to be offered to sit. But nothing else emerged from the man, as his arm resting on the armrest of the chair stuck out, his fingers fondling with a pen being twirled round and round by his fingers.

- "Take a seat," Neymar sat, his hands on his lap, waiting for the chair to turn.

Although it didn't come to much of his bussiness who the boss could be, something inside him began to scream of curiosity that made it feel so important to know who this man behind the chair is.