C O D E W O R D | neymar jr

XXXVI

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Yet another football event, presenting dignified people, the best of the best The walls cascaded with colourful bunting, the tables matched whatever theme they had chosen, and the place was decorated in each corner. A large glass window lay above us all, captivating everyone's initial attention.

The moon stood above us, timidly peeking in and slightly illuminating the already bright interior. The stars surrounded us, constellations retelling their stories above us all. However, the galaxies could not distract me from the true charm that stood in my eye's view.

Our bodies work in marvellous ways. My lungs explode and engulf my heart with blood that runs around my body, stroking the walls of my muscles and dancing along my bones, gently masquerading as it runs under my skin.

It applies enough pressure for my blood to reach my fingertips but not enough to burst into something important, working without command. However, at this moment, it feels like the autonomous function has stopped. My lungs weren't exhaling, my heart wasn't pumping, and my body wasn't functioning.

Neither was my brain, usually resilient like a soldier in a war, living through a cynical cycle, but it was resisting. Perhaps it knew that his agreeable face stood before me, his handsome features becoming the only thing my eyes could focus on.

Whilst I could not physically see his eyes, my brain ached for the idea they may meet; my heart only stopped for the elegance of his heart; my lungs were flooding as my brain fell into distraction.

However, as my body collapsed, I knew I would survive, for he is the blood of my being.

The blood of my being fell from his eyes to someone else, his new supposed girlfriend walking in alongside him, a deep feeling pouring through my gut as I tilted my head at them. Goodness, she was astonishing.

Her dark crimson hair fell along her back, and the dress she wore swam through the air as she walked through the venue. You could see her eyes from the other side of the room, a peacock blue, staring solely into his.

Vitorria Ferri

He held out the chair for her, and I too almost fell in love at the sight of her smile. I had already stalked her on any social network possible. She was a classy woman with Cuban and French roots, often taking trips across the world, yet her passion lay with aiding children. She was a volunteer for any charity available.

A gorgeous, charitable, and cultural woman, supposedly the woman of his dreams according to the articles, was a better option than the gold-digging whore who had landed herself with another one of his teammates.

I was instantly pulled from my trance as a kick struck me from under the table. "You've both moved on; be happy." He whispered, and I complied by taking a sip of whatever alcohol was available, diverting my eyes towards either him or the table.

Hours passed, the same tiresome pattern repeating as people were called onto the stage, and the alcohol I consumed increased by a substantial amount per minute. "I need to use the restroom; excuse me." I smiled as I lifted myself from my seat, only to feel a tug on my wrist.

"You go there and back; do not talk to anyone." He demanded, his eyes shooting bullets into my brain. Perhaps it was the fact that my eyes did not divert from Neymar and his date. Additionally, she had just left to use the bathroom minutes ago, and I obviously wanted to bump into her.