Helping out her best friend by playing the lead in that music video project for university had seemed like an easy enough feat for art student Lorelai García. Only, it wasn't. Especially since not only Lorelai, but the whole first team of the FC Bar...
Anyways... Hope you guys like this chapter, it ends with a— nope, gotta read for yourselves! ;) Enjoy!!!
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She was not. No, she was absolutely NOT. Falling for Neymar.
Lorelai sighed as she watched the landscape pass by through the large window of the bus.
They were travelling back from the away match against València — »they« being the squad of the FC Barcelona, accompanied by one art student; Lorelai herself, naturally. It was late in the evening, past midnight already, and everyone had calmed down from the euphoria of the hard earned victory. Sergio had shot the important winning goal at the very last possible moment. Neymar had only been a little bit sad that his header hadn't been it, but that didn't stop him from enjoying Sergio's success, which in the end, he said, was the team's success. And that was all that mattered in the end, wasn't it?
Not really focussing on the passing landscape anymore, Lorelai thought about how she came to be here in the first place: the management, via trainer Luis Enrique, had invited her to watch the team at matches and she was even permitted to sit with the team, if circumstances allowed it.
»Why?« she'd dumbly asked as she'd sat in one of the administration offices at Camp Nou, similar to the one she'd signed the contract in. »I mean, thank you!« she'd added quickly. »You sure that won't that be a problem?«
Luis Enrique had only shrugged. »The board is really looking forward to the art series you're doing. That means they're giving you access to places people usually don't get. And as long as you're not distracting my players, I don't see a problem. If you know what I mean.«
He'd smiled at her then, but that didn't say much — by now Lorelai had learned that the trainer of the first team rarely let people have a glimpse into his set of cards. Nevertheless, the message he'd been trying to transmit hadn't exactly been encrypted; yes, she knew what he meant. No »distracting« the players it was. Not that she would have planned that. With anyone. Say, with one particular Brazilian. Nope. Period. Full stop.
»In any case,« he'd continued. »Football is only football when there's a real match going on. It's different from training. Energy's different, players' approach to the match is different. You'll find out soon enough. You're coming with us to the away match against València, if you have time for that, of course.«
At first, Lorelai had wanted to argue that going to matches wasn't really that necessary for the art assignment — but then something inside of her made her agree to this. Had that been in the massive paperwork she had signed not so long ago? She couldn't remember. In any case, it really was a bonus only an idiot would've said no to. Plus, there was that phobia thing she'd had recent talks with Neymar and also her friends about; a topic that had been predominant these past few days. A topic she was starting to be comfortable to talk about. Wonders never ceased. And watching as many matches as possible may as well mean a step towards losing her fear of footballs. The closer — and scarier — it got, the better. At least, that was what Jane said; Lorelai wasn't too convinced about this therapy technique yet.
