Utterly Relentless || Neymar

Chapter 3

"Galtier's excited to see what you can do," Leo told her once they took their seats on the private jet. It was Leo's—Aria received plenty of endorsements, and was far wealthier than most because of her worldwide celebrity status—but she didn't spend much on anything she didn't need. It made sense for Leo, though...he was a different kind of wealthy.

No, she never showed her money. Her home was comfortable and nicely-decorated, and her clothes were luxurious, but at first glance it wouldn't be obvious that she was rich. Aria was too focused on all things football to care for unnecessary expenses. Her boots were custom made and her practice balls were of the highest quality. Her most prized possession, though, was her water bottle.

She drank from the old, worn out water bottle now. Its navy blue paint was scratched out in most places. The bottom was dented from falling on the pitch, being knocked over, and once even falling out of Leo's jet (long story). Her name was printed in bold white letters at the top, but over the years it faded and scratched until you could just barely make out: Ariana Joane.

Her father got her that water bottle when she was only 7 years old. Back then, she held the thing in her clumsy little hands and immediately dropped it. Only ten years later would she find out that her father had wasted one of his paychecks to buy that for her.

Aria didn't respond to whatever he had said. Instead, she asked him, "Remember when I met you?"

"How could I forget?" Leo frowned. "You walked right up to me and said:" He cleared his throat as he imitated her. "Ronaldo's better than you." Aria burst out laughing. Once upon a time, she had truly thought that—then she got the chance to play with Leo, and realized their artistry could not be compared. "That's not my first memory of you, though."

"It isn't?" She looked at what she could call her best friend curiously.

"No," he shook his head. "I saw you at 5am on the pitch—I had left something there and needed to get it before a flight. You handled the ball like many could not. Shot like Ronaldo, but dribbled better than him. I saw in you then your potential."

Shot like Ronaldo.

Dribbled better than him.

Aria broke out into a grin. "I'm glad I impressed the worldwide sensation Lionel Messi." He chuckled at that, and resumed small talk. Julian came up a couple of times, Neymar as well. "Is he well?" She asked more out of courtesy than anything.

"He's doing alright. The loss hit him hard." Her smile faded slightly. Of course it had—still, Neymar was smiling for the rest of the World Cup just like the rest of them.

"Yeah, that must've—oh, one second."

Her phone rang with the number of Galtier, and then just as suddenly as he came up, the Brazilian soccer star was well and out of her mind.

"Aria! Joane! Aria, Aria!" The press screamed at her sitting in the middle of the table flanked by PSG officials, one being Galtier himself. Her hands shook (hopefully unnoticeable by the camera), and she pointed at one of the only women in the room. "Little girls across the globe are looking to you as inspiration. How do you hope to influence them?"

That was easy enough. She spoke back in very slightly broken French. "I want to show them that if you dedicate your life to anything, football or not, it is possible to make history."

The men's questions were not so nice. Some she dismissed with an annoyed wave of the hand, others weren't able to be ignored. "After your rouse with Kylian Mbappe in the World Cup final, people are worried that it will affect your chemistry on the field. Is that true?"