Wasted (Neymar Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Nineteen

Nineteen

 

 

-Gabriela-

Taking a deep huff of air, I looked up at the starry night sky, reminiscing about the time where I had been in the orphanage, getting treated as if I were a slave. I’d never known my real parents, let alone seen them, and they, the people at the orphanage, never allowed me to know. Hell, I never even had my own surname until the Messi family adopted me.

Everyone around me seemed to leave. My parents left. People around me in the orphanage that promised to keep in touch with me packed up their bags when they got adopted and left. Contacted me? Yeah right, more of ignored.

I dreaded the day Messi would leave me and never come back.

Sighing deeply, I wondered as I stood up and brushed my skirt down before heading back to the direction of the restaurant, my heels clicking on the empty stone pavement.

What did I wonder about, you may ask?

I wondered if I should already give up and add Neymar’s name into the list of people who would just up and leave.

Well, but, didn’t he already?

“Hey. Did Messi already leave?” I asked, frowning as I looked around for my brother, also known as the designated driver for the night. Pique, who was kissing the top of Shakira’s head affectionately, turned to face me.

“Oh yeah,” he said, looking as if he’d just remembered something. “I think he’d forgotten about you. He was a bit tipsy when he left. They were saying about some Loci Hotel? I think Toni and him are going there for… ah, a celebration.”

I crinkled my nose. “Say no more,” I gagged.

I sighed and realized that I would have to get a cab home. Walking was obviously out of the question, because that required a lot of energy, seeing that home was around 10 miles away.

I plopped myself down on the chair and rested my face on my hand, which sat on the empty table and trailed my fingers down my fishtail. I looked around me. Sánchez was dancing on the stage to Barbie Girl with a drunken Stegen who danced like a fish out of water. A few other people I didn’t recognize were having a game of beer pong.

“Hello there,” An all-too familiar voice said, startling me. I turned around, surprised as I saw an obviously tipsy Neymar standing there, his jacket off, most of his button on his shirts popped off, showing a good sexy portion of his tanned chest.

“N-Neymar?” I asked. A waft of Jack Daniel’s entered my nostrils and I crinkled my nose. “Oh, God, you’re drunk.”

Neymar smiled, flashing me his shiny pearly white teeth. “See, I told Tally that y-you would be concerned instead of doing what she did: take advantage of me…”

“What?”

“She kissed me-e-e-e-e,” Neymar sang loudly. “But I pushed her away, cos I told her that I am in lo-o-o-v-e-e-e with someone else!”

I sighed. Right, how could I forget; Bruna.

Well, can you drive?” I asked as I stood up. He peeked down at me. I avoided his eyes, looking downwards. Oh God, my eyes were rested on his bare chest. I quickly gulped and look away.

“I didn’t drive here,” Neymar pouted. “I came by cab. I guess I need to go by cab!”

“Come,” I sighed. “I’ll get you home. Or, actually, off to mine. You haven’t gotten all your stuff back, you know. You left, um, a jersey too,” I flushed. Neymar nodded.