Take Me Away (Neymar ; Marc Bartra)

Chapter 2

Don't get me wrong. I don't hate football, but I don't like it either. It just never particularly interested me in any way, despite having your best friend being a player of one of the best teams in the world of football. I'm an artist, or an aspiring one, at least. I enjoy peace and tranquility, spilling my mind out onto a blank canvas, that's how I find my inner freedom. Not to mention, I have the biggest fear of just about any sport that involves the usage of balls. Yeah, can you imagine the feels that rush through me whenever i'm near the field?

While holding a sketchbook in my hand, I followed Marc into Camp Nou, the stadium he goes to for his games and trainings, his second home in the heart of Barcelona. The field was vast and spacious with shades of green, the stadium was basically empty and extremely overwhelming, to the point that it can give me goosebumps because it's a little creepy. I only come here during home games and special occasions, so every time I step into Camp Nou, it feels like a whole new experience.

“Marc!” A figure came running towards Marc and I as we were walking to the stands. “Anna!” He exclaimed.

It was Leo, probably the second footballer that I've made most contact with, being somewhat treated like a little sister along with his girlfriend, Antonella that I used to be really close to. 

“It's been a long while hasn't it? Welcome back to hours of horror and boredom.” Leo came over and gave me a big bear hug, whilst laughing as he knew how I never really fancied staying for their full training sessions.

“Hi Leo!” Ahh..how can I forget the aromatic smell of men's sweat that I totally love. “Well, you gotta thank Marc there, but I guess it's all good.” I pointed to my sketch book that I've laid down on the seats. I brought it to keep me occupied while their training sessions goes on.

“You'll have plenty of time to catch up later, we gotta go now.” Marc ran back to the field, Leo flashed me a smile and waved as he tagged along behind him.

Coming to think of it, its kind of funny how most girls would die to be in my position, being best friends with Marc Bartra and the rest of FC Barcelona. Coming to Camp Nou, getting free admissions for their games. I must say, I'm a pretty lucky girl but ironically, football isn't really my cup of tea. Instead of watching the boys, I brought my sketch book and pencils to keep me company and as an art student, perhaps I'd even have some inspiration for my upcoming projects. With a 2B pencil in my hand, I started my sketching with the sound of shouting and the melodic sounds from blowing whistles that were going in and out of my ears.

-

“Watch out!” I heard someone shout towards my direction. “Ten cuidado Anna, watch out!”

I snapped out of my concentration and lifted up my head to see what was going on, who was calling my na-

*THUD*

I forced my eyes shut tightly and felt something hit my face with full force. It can't be.

I slowly lifted my eye lids, taking a peek to see what just happened. I turned my head towards my left and I saw a football rolling towards the other direction. My heart started racing, did I just got smacked in the face by a football? And you wondered why I feared balls so much.

“You alright over there? I could hear Marc shouting at me from the middle of the field. Still in shock, I signaled a thumbs up with my fingers to tell him that I'm fine, though I'm not exactly sure if I am.

Something caught my eyes, a guy sitting near the stands as he turned around to meet my eyes. I couldn't make up who he was, I've never seen that unfamilliar face around the field before. He got up and made his way back to mid-field with the number '11' printed on the back of his Jersey. I'm assuming that he was the one who hit me with the football, and he didn't even bothered to apologize?

                                                                 

*  *  *  *  *

“Helloooo! Anyone home?” I yelled as I pushed the door to the boys' locker room open My vision immediately got bombarded with the view of half clothed men, wrapped in towels and dripping wet hair. I really should learn how to knock next time.

“Anna, Anna, Anna!” a tall figure of approximately 6.2feet came towards me.

“Gerard!” He towered over me like a giraffe, considering that I was only a 5 foot 3 midget. Marc, Daniel, Sergi and a couple more guys followed him and we all ended up in a tight group hug full of skinship.

“I haven't seen you guys in ages.” I said, trying to gasp for air while being squished between them.

“What brings you to the grounds of Camp Nou today, it definitely was a pleasant surprise!” Dani asked as he put is shirt on.

“Nothing much really, just thought I'd tag along Marc to pay you guys a visit too.” I shrugged and took a seat at the bench next to the lockers, keeping a lookout for number '11' that hit me with the football.

“It has been long. Well nothing much has changed, we're still the best football team in the world.” Gerard said with pride, followed by laughter from the others. “Oh, Anna have you met the new addition to our family?”

New addition to our family? Did someone give birth to a child or something?

“This is Neymar.” Gerard pointed to the man that just walked into the locker rooms. He was tall and nicely tanned, with hair shaved on both sides of his head, showing off a dark brown mohawk. Given that he only had a towel wrapped around his lower half, I can't help but take a few glances of that work of art, wow..Anna snap out of it! Then did I notice that he was walking towards my direction.

He bent forward to meet me at eye level. His eyes were a beautiful shade of hazel brown. I could feel his right hand pressing against the left side of my cheek where I got hit by the football.

“Ow!” I felt a sharp pain and flinched as he backed away a little, but his eyes still remained on my left cheek, observing it thoroughly.

“Marcy, I may or may not have injured your girlfriend here.” He turned to Marc's direction. Hold up, did he just said that he injured me?

Snapping out of my current state, I immediately stood up to my feet. I had to lift up my head to meet his gaze as I was only as tall as the height of his chin and looked at him in awe as he was the man I saw earlier on the field, the one that hit me with the ball.

“Why the look on your face? A fellow fan of mine? I guess you'd be loving that bruise even more now.” He said sarcastically and gave off a smirk. He sure is full of himself.

“That's not funny, and in fact I've never even knew about your existence.” I responded and reached out to touch my cheek, how could I have not felt any pain earlier?

Marc walked over and gently placed in ice pack on my cheek with his hands.

“It's a bruise, kiddo.” He removed the ice pack for a couple of seconds and stared at me. “You still look beautiful.” He gave off his signature Marc Bartra smile and tried to contain a laugh.

“That's not very funny either”. I murmured under my breath and can't help but roll my eyes, snatching the ice pack from Marc's hands so I could put it on my cheek again.

To be honest, I couldn't care less about the bruise, I guess I'm the kind of girl that's fine leaving the house bare faced without any make up so I think a bruise wouldn't bother me that much. I just wanted an apology from this Neymar dude.

“Well, aren't you going to say sorry?” I looked up and glanced at the tanned figure who was standing a couple inches in front of me.

“Have fun, love birds.” He waved at Marc and I as he turned his back and left the locker room. Wow, he's full of himself AND he's rude.

“Don't mind him, he may come off as a cocky bastard but he means no harm.” Xavi assured me.

“Let's get you home, come on.” Marc flung his bag over his right shoulder. We bid the boys goodbye and walked over to Marc's car so he could send me home.