Neymar x reader- boundless pontential -

chapter 4

She woke up to soft pillows, a warm blanked and buzzing on her skin. Scrubbing the fatigue from her eyes, she sat up and reached for her phone.

Three messages. One from her mom, another from Noha, and the third is from an unknown number.

Y/n decide to click on the third.

I saw your pre-debut. I admire the confidence.

And who is this?

Take a wild guess. I'll give you three.

The word choice was all too familiar. Y/n's heart leaped as the fatigue rushed out her body.

How the hell did you get my number?

What happened to guessing?

Let me rephrase that. How the hell did you get my number, Neymar jr?

Haha, let's just say I have fast hands.

Y/n couldn't believe what she was seeing for obvious reasons. What was she supposed to reply with? What exactly did he want from her? Why was *he* texting her?

What do you want from me?

She immediately regretted pressing send. That sounded almost accusatory, and though that was technically her intention, she doesn't really want to be messing with someone higher than her on the food chain.

That sinks in. There's a power imbalance here, he's way more successful and could probably ruin her chances in seconds. She wanted to believe he wouldn't do that, but why should she?

He didn't make fun of you, a part of her chided. He held your hand.

She snapped out of her excessive worrying to check her phone.

I want to wish you luck

You couldn't have done that in person?

Wow, where was this confident Linda on the plane?

It's easier to talk to you over text, she admitted.

Why's that?

I don't know? You're just a multi-millionair, the third best footballer in the world and like- technically my boss? No pressure at all.

Third best? Ouch. But what you're saying is I make you nervous?

That might've done things to y/n. Unspeakable things that shouldn't be elaborated on. Fumbling on what to say, she decided to keep it short.

Relatively

Hmm. Well, I have to go. Like I've said multiple times, good luck.

Thank...you?

He left it at that, not replying in any way. Y/n fell back on her bed with a huge sigh, both dreamy and stressed. She didn't like this, how unpredictable life has become. Now Neymar jr had her number and just texted her privately.

If this came out- she didn't want to finish the thought, entertaining what-ifs is never a good way to go.

Someone knocked gently on her door. Sitting back up, she let out another sigh and replied: "Come in".

Noha opened the door. As soon as she looked at Y/n, her face scrunched in worry. "What's wrong?" She asked.

It was almost impossible to hide anything from her. She might've used glasses to see clearly, but she could probably tell if y/n wasn't feeling well with her eyes closed.