After I was done packing my stuff from work, without bumping into anyone else and twisting the knife even deeper in my heart, I said my goodbye to the receptionist and drove straight home.
I got out of my car and instead of going to my apartment, I knocked at Luca and Andrea's door. After our little moment in the office Luca disappeared, so I assumed he came home. I haven't told Andrea yet, but Luca probably already filled her in.
The door opens, a crying Andrea appearing in the doorway.
'Hey.' I said tears forming in my eyes.
'Come here.' she wrapped her arms around me, my eyes closed.
After a hug that felt like a lifetime, I caught a glimpse of the boy that's been there for me since the moment we met. Luca was lying on the couch, a blanket covering him, the only thing visible being his head. There was a pack of tissues on the table next to him and he looked like he's been crying for days. Even if it's only been a few hours.
'He's been like that since he got home.' Andrea said. 'He told me and then... and then he just stopped talking. He won't say a word.'
I looked back at her. 'He's going to be okay.' I nodded my head. 'I'm going to go pack, but I'll check in later if that's okay with you.'
'Don't be silly.' she smiled, waiting for me to enter my apartment so she can close her door.
***
I was born with this insatiable anger at the world and how unfair it was. How the world was just a filthy place with egotistical people. And that unless you're rich, famous or pretty, you'll have no chance of surviving. I don't think I've ever known true happiness, never tasted the so-called joy everyone always spoke of that makes life worth living. Or so I thought. Because all of that changed as soon as I touched down in Paris. I fell in love with the city, with the people... the first time in my life when I loved something else more than myself.
It was currently 8:30pm and I was sat on my bedroom's floor, my cries echoing in my apartment. I was meant to pack and I was meant to check in on Andrea and Luca... but I couldn't.
I couldn't, because I broke.
I was grieving. My friends, my job, my apartment, Neymar, myself. Becuase I had to return to the one place I've always dreamt about leaving. The one place that'll cut off the wings I grew.
If I could, I would do anything to take the pain away, for just a second, just a moment. Only so I could breathe.
***
A knock was heard at my door, making my head lift from my hands. I've been in the same spot crying for hours.
Gathering all the power left in me, I stood up and walked towards the door, thinking that Andrea's probably wondering why I didn't show up anymore.
Neymar's POV:
I took a deep breath and knocked on Irina's door. I don't know what I was doing here, as I was probably the last person she wanted to see.
Not making me wait too long, the door opened. Mascara had dribbled from her big green eyes as she stood still in the doorway.
She looked like she's been crying for hours.
Without knowing what to say, I silently walked up to her and pulled her into a hug, wrapping my hands tightly around her back.
To my surprise, she hugged me back and started weeping into my shoulder. I brushed my hand through her hair in comforting strokes.
