Wasted (Neymar Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Two

Two

-Neymar-

She was as light as a feather, unsurprisingly.

It was obvious that she was way beyond drunk, as she mumbled about odd things in her sleep, and I guess I had to bring her back to Messi’s. I hauled a cab from the pavement and gently laid her down in the backseat and got into the shotgun.

After I told the taxi driver Messi’s address, he sped off quickly. I checked on Gabriela through the rearview mirror. The way she hugged herself into a little ball make a light smile form on my face. She looked so cute with her hair sprawled over the cushion, her lips parted slightly.

“She your girlfriend, mate?” The taxi driver asked, peering over at me.

“No,” I quickly denied. “She’s just, um, a friend.”

“A friend, huh?” he gave me a knowing look, grinning at my hesitancy. If only he knew. “Wait and see, boy. Wait and see.”

I didn’t understand what he was saying, so I just ignored him. When we arrived at Messi’s, I simply tossed the driver a 50 and then went round of to the backseat and lifted Gabriela up, bridal style. She stirred in my arms and I closed the door which was painted yellow with advertisements painted over it. I gave the taxi driver a brief nod, and he grinned at me, giving me a suggestive look before zooming off.

I rang the bell fixed onto the Messi household’s posh gate.

“Who is it?” The intercom voiced out. It was Messi’s hangover voice, I could tell by the countless mornings of me soothing him as he vomited his guts out.

“Neymar, bro,” I answered.

The gate opened and I brought Gabriela inside. The mahogany doors pushed open, with Messi on the other side, shirtless, with only a pair of sloppy jeans on. He was rubbing his eyes.

“What?” He asked lazily before noticing the frail body in my arms. His eyes widened as he immediately rushed to my side. “What happened?” He asked worriedly, his previous grogginess disappearing as he took his non blood-related sister from my arms. “Is she alright?”

“If intoxicated means alright,” I shrugged, following Messi inside his home. He gestured me to close the door.

“God, she’d be the death of me,” He grumbled under his breath as he laid her down on the leather couch. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of water and two Advil pills and sat beside Gabriela. He looked up at me. “What happened?”

I explained to him how she had fainted by the pavement when I coincidentally came out from the side door. A worried look was evident on Messi’s face, even though getting drunk really isn’t that big of a deal. I wondered why.

Soon after, Gabriela blinked awake, her bright blue eyes contrasting with her pale lips. She sat up, only to groan as she placed her hand to her forehead.

“What the hell happened?” She asked no one in particular, her voice hoarse. She saw me sitting there and then frowned. “Why are you here?”

I was about to answer her with some sarcastic remark when I realized she had a point. I actually only intended to drop her and leave. But when I wanted to stand up and leave, I realized the cab had already left…

Idiot.

“No transport?” Messi asked knowingly. I nodded sheepishly. “Upstairs, to the left, black door; be our guest.”

“Thanks, bro.” I smiled as I hopped up onto my cleats, which was something I never took off—it made me feel… complete. Like without football, my life would be practically nothing.