[Twenty]

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.:Chapter Twenty:.

Milena's POV♛

I wish I could say today had a happy ending. I wish I could say that everything continued as normal. But I'd be lying, wouldn't I? The truth doesn't always bring happiness. Most of the time, it brings fear and sadness. Unexplainable fragility.

The day started off like any other; I woke up with a serious case of bed head, bad breath and sunken eyes. The usual. I freshened up in the bathroom, put on a casual white t-shirt and denim skinny jeans, tightened the laces of my grey Jordans and set off towards Juni's house with a skip in my step.

I was happy. I was really happy. I mean, today was the day - the day when Brazil will avenge Neymar. He may not be dead physically, but in capability? There was no chance of resurrection just yet.

Today was one of those days where I just did not have it in me to be rude or mean to anyone, know what I mean? I smiled to the paparazzi, waved to the postman, actually treated my car with care when it wouldn't start. I felt different, in a way. Like something huge was going to happen.

I wish I knew that something huge was going to happen, just not in the way I expected it, just not in the way anyone expected it. I'm pretty sure the sharp sound of shattering hearts echoed throughout the favelas, each a sickening melodious tune to the enemy in its own.

I momentarily disregarded my strange sense of difference in the atmosphere when, upon ringing Juni's doorbell, a small, blonde boy answered the door instead.

"Olá?" I said slowly, though it came out more as a question. The boy shied away behind the door, trying to hide from my questioning gaze. I realised that I looked a little menacing, you know, what with the confused facial expression and looming shadow. I began to try a different approach and crouched down to his level, still standing on the doorstep.

"My name's Milena. What's yours?" This time, a softly curious expression graced my face and, since I wasn't standing so tall, I looked a little more approachable.

"Davi." The boy replied shyly. But then again, I was a complete stranger who had come knocking on the door out of nowhere. Even I'd be a little bit apprehensive.

"How many times have I told you not to answer the door?" I could hear the hurried footsteps of someone running up to the door and yanking it open (albeit gently since it was still the young boy's safe haven).

The wide open door revealed a much better looking Neymar. He looked like he'd showered and taken his medication, and it seemed to be working. I smiled as I realised that he was getting better - he was recovering. Who knows? Maybe in a matter of weeks, he could get the back brace off.

"Oh Lena! You're here!" He proclaimed, surprised.

I scoffed. "Why do you sound so shocked? You texted me to come over at seven in the morning."

"I did?" He asked as he scratched his head, thinking about the ordeal.

I nodded and brought out my phone, showing him the message.

From: Brazilian King

Hey Milena! Wanna come round today? We could watch the Germany vs Brazil match together :)

I watched as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion, his eyes squinting as he read the message on my phone whilst the glare of the sun probably reflected into his eyes. "I didn't send that message..."

Now, I was confused. If he didn't send the message, then who did? "What? Of course you did. Look, it says 'Brazilian King' right at the top."

"I haven't had my phone all day." He explained. This really was baffling.

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