The Acquisition (Neymar Jr. Fan fiction)

2. Known Aphrodisiacs

-Neymar POV-

Running onto the pitch made me feel alive and after yesterday's visit to Spencer Blanc's estate, I needed some time to clear my head. Our head coach advised us of our training routine for the day. We started with sprints, then ball control drills, and now passing practice. I was in a circle with Messi, Sergio Ramos, and Mbappe. The ball passed smoothly between us as we tried different variations of footwork.

"Score predictions for Saturday's game?" Ramos said.

"3-0, hat trick by me," I smirked and passed the ball back to him.

Messi and Mbappe laughed at the same time. "What about us?!" they said.

"Fine, fine, Messi and Mbappe both assist," I groaned jokingly.

They laughed before Messi said, "I'd say 3-2 is more likely. Bayern is always a tough game and the Champions League adds pressure."

"Yeah we need to be laser-focused," Mbappe agreed.

I nodded in agreement but still struggled to stop thinking about Carmen. I thought about her nearly every second of the day since we met. She was unlike any woman I'd ever known and she was vibrant and spontaneous and everything my ex Bruna wasn't. After Bruna and I broke up for the umpteenth time earlier this year, I hadn't been looking for a relationship. When Carmen and I met, it felt like fate because what we have is anything but a relationship nor could it ever be.

A part of me lamented in that thought but that boundary had been drawn a long time ago, and sealed with a diamond ring. I baffled myself with how deeply I appraised our situation. In truth, I barely knew Carmen. After all, we'd only ever had our second conversation yesterday. I thought back to our very first conversation at the gala...

-one week ago-

I was nearly blinded by the flashes of cameras tonight but I was being pulled in a million directions for photos. The banquet hall was crawling with PSG executives as well as players from the men's and women's first teams. While most of my teammates brought along their significant others as plus ones, I showed up stag. A decision I was regretting now that I found myself alone at the bar with an empty glass.

"The filthiest martini you can fathom for me, please," she requested of the bartender. Her accent was British, but I could faintly place a hint of a Spanish accent underneath. The bartender mixed her drink, and she tipped him heavily. I glanced over at her, but her eyes didn't shift from the glass while she stirred her olive. "Are you going to make me drink alone?" she asked suddenly. She finally turned to look at me, and I was taken aback by her beauty. Her fair skin had a warm undertone and her jet-black hair added edge to her appearance even though it was delicately styled in a low updo. Her hair was parted in the center. A few strands of hair framed her oval face while her bangs covered her forehead, leading me directly to her brown eyes.

"I don't drink with strangers, but if you tell me your name, I might consider it," I smirked back at her.

She smiled a small crooked smile and said, "Carmen. And you're Neymar, right?"

I nodded and took a small step toward her, and asked the bartender for another round. He served me the same he'd given her, and we clinked our glasses before taking a big sip. "Carmen isn't a common English name, is it?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Hardly. I only attended school in England. Boarding school for some years and then Oxford," she explained.

"So where's home then?" I asked.

She finished the remaining vodka in her glass in one gulp and set down her glass. "How about you take a guess while we wait for another round," she suggested. I let out a chuckle when she turned her body to face me and gestured down her body for me to make a guess. I let my eyes briefly scan her in a slinky black halter-neck gown. The fabric hugged her body like a glove but what gave it away was the small tattoo she had on her inner forearm that became visible when she waved her hand. It said 'així és la vida', a popular catalan for 'such is life'.