Take Me Away (Neymar ; Marc Bartra)

Chapter 23

The day didn't exactly start off as I've expected. Tickets for the morning train were already sold off when I got to the station so I had to opt for the next best which was later in the day, not to mention that I was a minute-and-a-half close to miss my boarding from que'ing up for €2 hotdogs at a push cart—I don't regret it. Taking the train is much cheaper compared to a plane, albeit the longer time to arrive at my destination. It's not something that I really mind, I've had a bad experience with planes and nope, I probably wouldn't even bother to think about boarding it alone.

As soon as I arrived at the railway station, Sergio was already waiting out front to pick me up. The building was incredibly beautiful, fresh flora and fauna enclosed within steel and glass constructions. No surprise for it being the biggest railway station in Spain.

“Hello, cousin. It's a pleasure to be meeting you again so abruptly. I must say, that it has only been a bat of an eye.” Sergio said, with a slight British tune to his sentence.

“Since when were you this posh?” I put an arm over his shoulder to give him a short side-hug with the scent of his cologne filling up the vehicle before strapping on the safety belt across my chest. It only took a couple of seconds for the environment of a drop-off area to become the fast lane of long highways of Madrid under the bright afternoon sun.

We arrived at Sergio's house and as we opened the front door, I was in awe. It looked much smaller from the outside, but the interior still made it look like a billion dollar mansion to me. I've only been here once on my last visit and I'm excited to be able to explore it a little more.

“Welcome to the Ramos residence.” He said after placing my hand luggage on his leather sofa. “Feel free to make yourself at home.”

“I'm expecting your fridge to be as big as my entire kitchen, i'm so hungry-” I stopped mid-sentence once I heard faint echoes throughout the room. There were people arguing about something related to food, maybe? I couldn't make out what they were saying, but they were no doubt coming from inside of the house.

Sergio gave me a hand gesture along with an awkward smile, signaling me to wait as he made his way to the back where his kitchen was. Being the curious person I am, I went after him to see what was going on. Never was I expecting who I was about to greet.

“What the hell are you both doing here?” I exclaimed, outraged and confused. “Sergio?!” I glared at him, before turning my attention back to a Marc Bartra and Neymar Jr who were digging through a brown bag, with fruits and vegetables scattered over the kitchen island.

“We'll explain later but will you just tell Marc here that tomatoes are not fruits, but vegetables?” Neymar said, while holding up a tomato in his hand.

“Don't be stupid. Everyone knows it's a fruit. Right, kiddo?” Marc responded and looked at me whilst squinting.

I was lost for words.

Just then, a simmering sound came from the sight of a pot on the stove. It didn't take long for bubbles to form and boiling water started flowing down onto the counter top, down to the floor. My immediate reaction was to run over to do something about it, not wanting any of these amateurs to start burning themselves but I felt Sergio holding my shoulder back.

“Fuck, Neymar! Didn't I ask you to put it on a low heat.” Marc hissed while running towards the stove to switch it off.

“Don't fucking tell me what to do.” Neymar mocked in response while following behind him, grabbing a towel from one of the racks on the walls and throwing it onto the ground, stepping on it while it soaks up the mess they made.

“Aren't you going to do something about this?” I said to Sergio, almost screaming. I was boiling up inside me. Forget why these two are here, how can any of them remain so calm in situations like these?