Sempre

[Three]

.:Chapter Three - Baby I:.

Neymar's POV

After the locker room fiasco, I left the room to get some fresh air. The smell of Axe, nervousness and testosterone was too overpowering in there and I couldn't breathe in an ounce of oxygen. Wondering aimlessly through the corridors, I happened to find a large barren space, it's only feature being a floor to ceiling window that stretched across the entire wall.

Brazil sure is a beautiful country, I thought as I leaned against the railing that was bolted down in front of the cool glass. The area was deserted and not a soul was to be seen for miles and miles beyond. Beams from the almost setting sun made the cars gleam as they were parked haphazardly all over the place. The sky was a bright, light blue and was tinged with hints of orange and pink. Being a footballer for the home team and all, I couldn't exactly go outside before the match or else I'd get mobbed. Fun times.

Resting my forehead against the refreshing window, I just stood there for a bit and closed my eyes - calming my nerves and relaxing my tense muscles.

"You okay man?" I opened my eyes, startled, and quickly zoomed around to see Thiago Silva, our captain, standing there with his eyebrows knotted together. Probably sensing my slight reluctance to go out on the pitch (really, really slight), he strolled forwards and came and stood next to me, looking out the window too. A child and his mother could be seen running to the entrance of the building down below, and soon disappeared inside.

"Fine. Just..." I couldn't find the right words to describe what I was feeling. I was jittery but excited, worried yet untroubled. Was there such a word to describe my emotions?

"Milorty." I finished. "Yeah, I'm feeling quite milorty. How about you?"

Giving me a perplexed look and a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, he opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. He opened it once more and was about to say something, but decided against it, resembling a fish. He was probably astonished by my brilliant talent of making up new words. Is there a real job for that?

"Okay Neymar. Whatever floats your boat, small, delicate child." He said, closing his eyes and reaching out to give me a tender hug with my head against his chest. Being around the same height as him (he was only an inch taller), I had to bend at an awkward angle, and this hug was soon becoming anything but comfortable.

When he finally let go, he straightened my clothes, gave me yet another sympathetic pat on the shoulder and walked off.

Now that was just plain creepy. I guess that's how he gets when he's nervous. Note to self: stay away from Silva before a match.

Checking my phone, I was alarmed to see there were only a few minutes until the Opening ceremony, and not wanting to miss it, I hurriedly made my way back, feeling miles better than before.

As I was walking, I could hear the opening bars of We Are One and practically sprinted to the locker room. I suppose I'd missed more of the Opening Ceremony than I initially thought.

When I arrived, however, there was no one in sight. Befuddled, I ran to the tunnel and was relieved to see everyone preparing to go on. Players were fixing their socks and shin guards, shaking hands with the opposing team and greeting them warmly; referees were rushing to find their whistles and sprays; and coaches and assistants were going through plays and shouting at everyone to make sure everything was perfect. The hustle and bustle of it all just made me stop and stare, with a lopsided smile on my face. I was relaxed and ready to play for my country.

"WHERE'S NEYMAR? WHERE IS THAT BOY? WE ARE NOT GOING ON UNTIL HE GETS HERE, WHETHER THAT'S IN THE NEXT FEW MINUTES OR THE NEXT FEW HOURS!" I heard Coach Scolari shouting, and felt more scared than honoured that he needed me.