dreams {neymar jr.}

reality

"What exactly are you looking for, woman?!" Ahaní shouts at me. People glare on our direction, and I sigh. "I don't know, I just didn't want to stay in the house. It's empty, you know. Everyone is at the party." She rolls her eyes and sighs, "Yes, I know, you told me that already. What I don't understand is why you wouldn't go to the goddamn party."

My eyes widen. I push my way through people in the local market to a magazine stand. I pick up the magazine, my hands clutching the paper tightly. "Alessandra what is wrong with you?" Ahaní demands, appearing next to me. I force the issue into her hand, and pick up another. There are over half a dozen different magazines featuring Neymar and I, all full of lies. I pore over them all, until Ahaní suddenly grabs my shoulder, turning me around. She gives me a stern look before pushing the magazine back into my hands, "Wake up, Alessandra. Do you not remember this? This has happened before! They've said all of this before! What is going on with you? You know that being with Neymar is gonna get press coverage! Wake up!"

"I just-" "Want privacy? We've already talked about this! That's something you're not going to get! Why are you acting so clueless? This is the price you have to pay for your love! And we both know that you're willing. So just turn your head, and act like you never saw it."

*•*•*

I barely answer the phone before a harsh female voice fills my ear, "You better be back on American soil by Friday night or you're fucking done, Lima!" My eyes widen, "But I was excused from the next shoot! I had a family emergency!" Selena scoffs, "Family emergency? Your baby daddy broke his back. He'll be fine. Get your ass back up here and make sure that bump is invisible." She sneers before hanging up.

I walk over to the mirror, looking at myself from the side. If anything, the little bump on my stomach was from stress eating; it happens. But I could also see why she would believe the rumors.

Neymar's POV

Walking into the house, its quiet, except for the sound of a television. I follow the sound upstairs, and to Alessandra's room. She hadn't been staying in it lately, and I briefly wonder why she isn't in my bedroom.

But, opening the door, Ahaní is laying on the bed, feet in the air. Leaning against the doorway, I raise my eyebrows. Her eyes dart over to me, "Aye, Neymar!" She says loudly, obviously surprised. I chuckle, "Hello, Ni-ni." She sticks her tongue out at me.

"I assume you're looking for Alessandra?" I nod, ignoring the flushing of my face. "She's on the treadmill." Ahaní says quietly, looking away. "What? What's wrong with that?" I ask, intrigued. She looks up at me, and shakes her head looking away. my eyebrows draw together, "Tell me." She narrows her eyes, "Why should I? How am I to be certain that you're actually in this? That you actually care? I can't assume that you do, because you've proved to be inflexible! She was supposed to be the love of your life, Neymar, and you left her there. You didn't even try." She snaps suddenly.

Emotions builds up inside of me, reaching drastic regret before red fury. "How can you judge me?" I demand, "She is the love of my life, do you hear me? She made the decision, not me! Should I have fought back? Kept her by my side? Of course! Who are you to tell me that? I know what I've lost and I know what I won't lose again." She stares up at me defiantly, arms crossed. I exhale, calming myself, "Now tell me what is wrong."

Ahaní falters, expression warping, before she sits down on the bed again. "She's been running since ten a.m. I haven't seen her since we got here, she's been inside that room torturing herself." She sighs. "What?" She looks up at me, "They think she's pregnant, Neymar. That's like death in her industry. She gets like this." I shake my head slowly, "Who gives a shit about what they say." I declare angrily. "No, Neymar, you don't get it. She has to go back to America."

I turn to leave the room, but Ahaní grabs my arm. I turn towards her, waiting for her words. "Tell her what you told me." She encourages, before dropping my arm again.

I walk away, to the basement where all of the work out equipment is. I walk around the corner, and see that it's true. She doesn't even notice me when I walk in, her eyes are focused on the mirror in front of her as she runs. I walk into her path of vision, and she waves, but makes no effort to stop. Stooping, I unplug the treadmill, and she quickly jumps off. Pulling out her headphones, she stares at me angrily, "What are you doing?" She demands. "This is not healthy." I say, crossing my arms. "What do you mean? I've only been in here for a couple hours." My eyebrows raise, "San, it's ten p.m!" She glances up at me, "I know what time it is, Neymar." I shake my head, "Why are you doing this?"

She looks down at herself, her small hand resting on her practically invisible stomach; and I wonder what she sees. "They think I'm pregnant." She replies quietly, "And if I don't look better by the time I get home, they'll fire me." I shake my head, "You look perfect." I tell her, and pull her into my arms, "And they wouldn't dare get rid of you." She pulls away, "Ney.." she mumbles, distancing herself from me.

She looks up at me, a painful expression on her face, "This isn't good." I pull her back into her arms, and she relents, arms wrapping around me.

"We can talk about it later, right?"

*•*•*•*

She comes out of the bathroom, one of my shirts hanging off her shoulder, floating above her thighs. She lays down next to me, her legs tangling together with mine. She lays her head on my shoulder, eyes already closed. I slowly drag my hand under the hem of her shirt, until my hand is resting on the dip of her waist, her warm skin under my fingertips. With a small kiss, I mumble goodnight.