C O D E W O R D | neymar jr

XXXII

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3 days until the surgery

I celebrated as his sister blew out the candles. He had invited his family over to celebrate before his sister's birthday as he wouldn't be able to on the day. A large cheesy grin on his ignoring the fact we hadn't spoken since the fight. 

"Happy birthday!" I squealed, hugging her tightly as she blew out the candles. For some reason, I felt like I was lying, as all I wanted to do was cry and scream, yet I couldn't. She pulled me tighter, kissing my cheek as I held a fake smile, my cheeks aching from holding it up. 

"Another year spinning around the sun!" She joked, playfully spinning as her dress flowed with her. Neymar approached and put his arm around her shoulder, avoiding any eye contact with me and instead focusing on her. "You know what my birthday wish is?"

After exchanging an uncomfortable glance, we both quickly put on our cheerful facades once more. "What's wrong?" I asked as she grasped my hands.

"I think you two would make amazing parents." My face dropped as she placed us next to each other, still holding our hands. "Bit stiff." She laughed as we stood against each other, our fingers touching slightly as we contemplated holding hands to make everything more natural. "Come on, what's wrong with you two?"

With a hint of hesitation, he embraced me, and we moved to the rhythm of the music. My hands rested on his chest, and we gazed at each other, awkwardly but perhaps with a subtle tension. My blue dress sailed through the air as he gently spun me, Rafa smiled as she videoed what she could only assume was a happy couple.

Finally, he swooped me down as the song finished, and for a split second, I could see that light in his eyes. Yet it was promptly interrupted by his inebriated sister pulling him into their dance. I clapped along as they twirled around, both of them tumbling around as the alcohol paralyzed their coordination, a natural laugh leaving my lips. 

At some point, his parents entered the room and began to join in, their matching outfits sparkling against the bright lights as a beautiful pattern glistened on the walls. I awkwardly stood outside their family circle; my mask cracking as I was further left out.

"Come here, Anna!" I joined their dance circle, trying my best to keep up yet my terrible skills were on display as I simply jumped and spun with the others. I didn't even know the songs as they were all Brazilian, yet they welcomed me like family.

After the initial dance session, everyone sat down to eat as the table was decorated with a numerous amount of purples and pinks, flowers cascading along the sides of the table. "Does anyone have a speech?" Rafaella inquired, sipping on the wine she had specially chosen. 

Ney stood up, I gave him a short look before continuing back to my plate. "Rafa, my sister, my best friend, the aunt to my son, and somehow you fill all these roles perfectly. You're the best!" His artificial speech sounded like he had copied and pasted it from every speech he had ever done. 

"Hopefully I'll be an aunt to number two soon." 

"Don't tell me she's pregnant." His father chuckled as he leaned back slightly in his chair. I watched Ney smile at his father, confirming my lack of pregnancy, yet they both seemed ecstatic at the fact I wasn't a mother.

"Why would that be so bad?" I questioned, offended by the assumption they were making. "We're in a happy," Lies. "And healthy." Another lie. "Relationship. And we're both old enough to look into settling down."

"At your age, you need to be settling down, if you keep looking your clock might run out." He confidently stated, "You're pretty, and you're kind, but you're simply not the one for my son."

"Dad-" Neymar rested his head in his hands as he let out an exhausted huff, obviously trying to tame the situation.

Whether it was the recent conflict spiralling between us, or the absurd comments he was making, I could not hold back my words. "Well you're a two-faced dick, but you don't see me saying you're not a good enough father."

"Anna!" Neymar reprimanded, his usually soft voice transforming into a deep and raspy one.

The entire table went silent as I spoke, he sucked his teeth before interrupting the silence. "It makes sense that you're thirty and still don't have a child. You probably whored yourself out after my son broke up with you-"

And with a crack against his jaw, Neymars fist soared across the table, propelled with wrath and anger. Each muscle tightened as he let out the pent-up fury he had hidden inside his wounded body.

His knuckles hit him like a symphony, and with a loud thud came the end of the song as everyone stared, wide-eyed, in shock. His mother's voice echoed as she began to scream at her son, yet he only stared down at his dazed father.

Horrified yet satiated by what he had done.

He rushed towards his room as the women in his family attempted to heal his father who had been sucker punched onto the floor, resulting in more head trauma. However, I did not aid the old man on the ground, rather I ran after the man who escaped into one of the other rooms in his gigantic house.

"Why would you do that?" I shouted as I shut the door behind me, looking at him as he paced around the room, rubbing his temple as he contemplated what he had just done. "I could handle the insult you didn't need to punch him!"

"Why would you even start an argument?" He argued, "Do you know how hard it is right now? I can't work, and I can't walk, and now I have to lie to my entire family. I'm tired of everything, I don't need you adding to the stress!"

"I get tired too you don't see my assaulting my dad!" 

"Did you hear the way he was talking about you? He's lucky I didn't kill him." He exclaimed, sitting on the bed and dragging his hand along his head, avoiding looking at me as he spoke.

"I get it was bad but he's always like that," I laughed slightly, terribly attempting to ease the situation, yet his face stayed stoic. "What?"

"I don't know how to be with a girl who can't even talk to my family..." His words felt like burns on my heart, violent and relentless. Searing through my bloodstream as they made their way to my soul, burning it aswell. He looked up at me, his eyes somewhat teary and his wrist still slightly red from the event. "I just can't see us long term."

"Really? You're going to do this now?" I sniffled, wiping the tears forming under my eyes. 

"When else should I do it?"

And suddenly I was burnt into ashes; my fingertips felt cold and my soul felt anguished. He could've physically ripped me apart and I'd still feel the same. Perhaps it would've been a better way to end this conversation.

"Please just wait until the surgery is over." I pleaded. "I need to be there for that then I'll leave, you'll never see me again, please."

"Fine."

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A/N MESSIS LEAVING PSG. CRYING!!!!