"Not many people got close enough to me to see me vulnerable, I found this the hardest thing to do. Somehow, a Brazilian football player, that's my boss, managed to get in."
Accomplishments
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Getting to the stadium without being spotted was impossible. I most certainly did not want the news to think that I was dating—or even worse slept with— Neymar Jr.
As soon as we stepped out of the car to enter the stadium, many started asking questions. One in particular caught my attention. 'Why are you wearing his shirt?' Well I have been played, by Neymar, to the whole world. Just what I have always wanted.
When we got inside, I immediately punched his arm and scolded him, "How could you give me a shirt that they would recognize?"
"Ow," he said rubbing his arm, "I forgot that I wore that shirt nearly everyday last month."
A handsome smirk played on the corner of his lips begging for more attention. I rolled my eyes at him as he began to walk down the halls. I didn't realize how many football players have personal assistants and how many of them Neymar knew. He said hello to all of them he saw walking the halls.
"Did you sleep with that one too?" I whispered to him as we passed another assistant, continuing the teasing mood.
He looked down at me in disbelief as I giggled. I thought it was a pretty good joke, however, all Neymar did was shake his head in disappointment. We turned another corner as the sleek hallways had less and less people walking in them. The smell of freshly cut grass filled the air we grew closer to the field. To my disappointment, before I could reach the pitch, Neymar grabbed my arm as we turned into the locker room.
I had to say, these players have the life. There was an unnecessarily large locker room that was quite organized but messy at the same time. A clean, large table was placed in the center of the room, and the expensive looking chairs were against three of the walls. Most of the packages placed on every players seat were gone.
Finding Neymar's bench easily, I looked down at it. An uncountable amount of old jerseys and warm ups were stuffed in every nook and cranny. Plastic water bottles were crushed and thrown onto the chair, making it unable to even sit down.
"Ew Neymar," I told him disappointed.
"Oh my god. I know I know it's dirty," he commented as he tried to drag me away.
I tugged my arm away from his as I saw a stack of banners under some clothes. Looking at him in shock, I pulled out goal banners. Neymar quickly snatched them from under my arm as I looked around the room. After finding a plastic bag on the floor, I began to pile his junk in it. I shouldn't say junk because he had some expensive looking man of the match trophies piled underneath everything as well.
I felt as if I was his mother. No, his mother would make him do this for himself. How could he let his become the dirtiest out of all the these grown men? I guess the golden boy can do whatever he wants. After filling the plastic bag to the brim, Neymar grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the room.
Before we could get far, we bumped into someone. Neymar looked back at me awkwardly before I could see who it was. I looked up to see Lucas—yes the one I'm dating— smiling at us. Thank god I already told him I worked for Neymar.
I pulled my hand from Neymar's as I felt guilty for letting him do such an affectionate action towards me. Lucas told Neymar about their next meeting and how he was trying to find the "others" to come along with them. He seemed very unfazed by Neymar and I standing so close to each other. The front of my shoulder rested on the back of Neymar's as our arms lay limp from not holding hands.
"Are you and Lucas still seeing each other?" he questioned as he gripped his steering wheel tight when we got into the car.
"Sure," I responded noticing his sudden change from his goofy self he was earlier this morning.
With Neymar no longer bothering to talk to me, I began to go through all the things in the bag from Neymar's locker. Many consisted of his warm up pants and shorts. How many pairs of those things can one person have? I pulled out a picture of Neymar when he was younger. I instantly started to giggle as I look at the rat looking Neymar. He had a tiny head, shaved hair, and big ears.
Neymar looking over to what I was laughing at, he instantly knew what it was. He nearly crashed the car from trying to grab me. He swerved back into his proper lane as he hit a red light and took both hands off the wheel.
I swatted his hands away as he grabbed at whatever he could. The brazilian has no other option but to twist me around so my back was on his chest and put his arm around me so I couldn't move my arms.
"Stop please," I wheezed.
People started to stare from outside the blue audi as Neymar started to laugh at my pain. The light turned green just in time for Neymar to pluck the picture from my hand and crumple it up.
It made me sad that no one else would be able to see that beautiful picture of Neymar da Silvia Santos Jr. It deserved to be shared with the whole world. As I stared at the man that was, once again, smiling uncontrollably, I got lost in my thoughts. He was truly one of a kind. One second he was happy and cheerful, then another second, he would be moody and upset. He was a force not to be reckoned with.
I denied it then as I pushed the thought away, however, I wanted to be with Neymar. He was certainly more than a boss to me, and I was more than an assistant to him. I am sure anyone could see it, and it was only a matter of time before we realized it ourselves.
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__________ this story isn't doing too well but I really like how the next chapters play out!!! i'm proud of the next chapters so please show them some love when I post them!
