dreams {neymar jr.}

work and love

A/N: Selena is Alessandra's manager. Also, this chapter is unedited, I just wanted to get this up! Thanks for the continued support :)  Enjoy! xx 

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"I'm not pregnant, Selena," I murmur. "Well, I'm just wondering. Everyone is saying that you are and it's not going to be easy to convince VS that you're not. Here." I look up at her, eyes wide, "Selena, you literally just had me take three different tests!" I exclaim, exasperated. "Well, take one more. Don't worry, the next one will be in a doctor's office." Silence fills the room, and when there's a rustle, she whips around, beady eyes scanning my home. "Lima, didn't I tell you to keep these goddamn blinds shut?!" She demands suddenly, leaping forward to close some curtains just as a camera flashes. "Oh my goodness." I whisper. "You don't fucking listen, Lima! Go take the goddamn test for fuck's sake!" She shouts.

I walk out of the front room, and down the hallway, just as Ahaní pokes her head out of her self-appointed bedroom, "Neymar said to answer your phone." She says with a smirk. I take a deep breath, and pull the phone out of my pocket. I walk into my bedroom, and close the door. Walking over to the bathroom, I sit the test next to the other empty wrappers.

I turn on my phone, and almost immediately more than a dozen texts and missed calls notifications come flooding onto my screen. With a subdued smile, I unlock my phone, and dial the familiar number.

"Darling." I grin, "Hey, Ney." He takes a deep breath, "What are you doing?" I glance over at the counter, "About to pee on a stick." I murmur. He chuckles, "What?" I run a hand over my face, "Pregnancy tests, Neymar. Like the hundredth. They really don't believe me." I whisper. "Hey, hey, it's okay. You and I know the truth of our relationship. Isn't that all that matters? It's no one else's business, Sandra." I sigh, "It is when I wanna keep a job." I retort. "Don't let them pressure you into anything, baby." He says softly, "Just hold on—we only have to wait six more days." He soothes happily. "I don't want you to come here, Ney." I whisper, "Not this house. Too many things happened here, and I just don't want you in this atmosphere." I stress. "Alessandra, you already have so much on your plate. You're in like six different campaigns and a show, right?" He pauses for an answer, and I smile a little, "Two campaigns, Neymar, you're making me seem a lot busier than I am." I chuckle. He scoffs, "Don't try to tell me that adjustment is easy, San. I can hear the strain in your voice. You're stressed. Tired. Don't try to find another house on top of that—there's not time enough in the world." I run a hand through my hair, "Ahaní helps. She's a constant positive energy, you know?"

"You're stubborn, you know that? Don't go looking for another house, please? You don't have to do that for me." He continues. "But I am, Ney. You're not coming here. Besides, the pap are like mobbing me here. I'm already packed, Neymar." He groans, "So what if I showed up early to help you?" I take a deep breath, "You know I would love that, but I really don't want you here, Neymar, please, just do this one thing for me?" I plead. "Alessandra, it doesn't matter where we are, as long as we're together." He refutes. "Not here, I can barely breathe here, Neymar." Silence fills the receiver, and I take a deep breath, hearing footsteps outside of my bedroom, "I gotta go Neymar. I love you, okay?" I mumble. "Yeah, I love you too." I quickly hang up, spring to the door and lock it, before doing what was necessary as quickly as possible.

"Alessandra!" Selena bangs on the door just as I wash my hands, and open the door. I gesture to the test sitting on the counter to show her the obviously negative result. She crosses her arms, "We still need an official statement, put on some clothes, we're leaving." Ahaní suddenly leans against the doorway, raising her eyebrows in a question, "You want me to come with?" I ignore Selena's peeved look, and nod, moving past Selena and into my bedroom. "I'll meet you at the hospital." I mumble to Selena. "Is that your way of walking me to the door?" She demands. "Just get the hell out, please." I mutter, rubbing my brow. She leaves the bedroom, and I wait for the slamming of the front door before even moving again.