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[Twenty Three]

.:Chapter Twenty Three:.

♚Neymar's POV♚

To tell you the truth, I was shitting myself. I was so terrified of the events that would unfold that day, but I had to hold it in. I couldn't let anyone know that I was scared of a match, especially against the Netherlands.

No, what am I saying? Did you see van Persie's flying header? Have you seen how united they are? Have you seen them play? Wow, they're so beautifully God-level, it's scary.

Hence my fear. As much as I'd like to believe that we'd triumph, a dark, lingering feeling is telling me that it'll be extremely tough. And the lack of connection within the team just makes it a hundred times worse.

Way, way worse.

I sighed. Convincing myself it would be an arduous task was not the way forward. Brazil could do this, right? They could win for me, they could win for their country, their people. They could win for themselves: a simple, yet not so simple statement.

"Papai! Papai!" A little voice cried out jubilantly. I awakened out of my reverie and looked up to see Davi bouncing around on the balls of his feet, seemingly unable to stand still.

"What is it Dav?" I wondered aloud. He giggled and grabbed my hand, pulling me up off of the bed I had been sat on for the past hour and dragged me out of the room itself.

"Nooo! I don't want to go anywhere yet! Let me change my clothes at least!" I whined. Whoever, or whatever, it was could wait until I looked even a little bit presentable.

"She told me to just pick you up as you are." He covered his mouth with his free hand and giggled once more. Now I was confused. She? Who's she?

"Who, Davi?" I asked, suddenly concerned. What if Davi had been talking to some crazy, psycho loon who had 'ulterior motives'? I should really up the security system here. Who knows what could happen?

"It's a surprise." He whispered as we rounded the corner and walked towards the front door. He gestured for me to open it and bounced excitedly as he waited. This was getting weirder and weirder by the minute.

I wrenched open the door and looked outside, but there was no one there. I scratched my head in confusion and turned to Davi. Maybe he was talking about his imaginary friends or something. Was that normal?

"Um, Davi? There's no one he-"

"Surprise!" A feminine voice screamed and she jumped out from behind one of the pillars. I started in fear and snapped my head to look at the culprit. A grinning, giggling Milena stood in front of me wearing the number 10 Brazil jersey and casual denim shorts, a large Canon camera hanging from her neck. "You ready?" She questioned eagerly.

"A simple 'hello' wasn't enough?" I asked, my hand resting on my chest as my heart beat slowly decelerated from the slight panic attack I just had.

"Obviously not." She shrugged and then bent down to coo at little Davi, who seemed to be loving her presence.

"And you got my son in on the act as well? Sly, Lena. Very sly."

"I'm a master at secretion and spying. It's a wonder why MI6 haven't hired me yet."

"Forget MI6; you should work for MI60. It's the only place that'll meet your standards."

She chuckled, but her mouth twitched and her smile soon faltered. Davi was still clinging onto my leg, trying to climb it like a tree, but all my attention was focused on Lena's sudden lack of happiness. It was like a dark, grey cloud had resided itself above her, drizzling its thick haze of unhappiness over her, and I had full intentions of finding out why.