2. Goal (Manuel Neuer)

the eighth goal

Contrary to how he usually was, it was easy for Manuel to forget all about Amelia.

The thing was, Manuel had spent about 3 hours wallowing in self pity while recalling the kiss a few thousand times.

But then he easily got drunk and went home, hand in hand with a few giggly girls who wound up in his bed until the next day.

On the other hand, Amelia did nothing but lay in her bed, wrapped in her covers, and think about Manuel Peter Neuer.

She only knew his middle name because she had stalked everything about him on the internet. Amelia was absolutely pathetic.

Lena was being forced on a family trip for the next few weeks and had no way of picking Amelia up from her so-called depression.

But it wasn't until later that day that Amelia hit rock bottom. Amelia sprayed some whipped cream into her mouth, throwing the now empty container to the side of the room.

William never caught a glimpse of Amelia, since her door was jammed with a chair, some bobby pins and three locks. He was frustrated, but glad he didn't have to deal with the mess of Amelia Adler.

Bastian and Thomas were constantly found rolling their eyes towards Manuel's actions. Thomas knew that this type of Manuel was the kind that was hiding his feelings, drinking his emotions for an important girl away.

But it was never their job to take care of Manuel. Until the incident.

Saturday night, around 3 AM, Manuel had literally crashed into the house, waking up an angry Thomas.

Running down the stairs to make sure he was alright and not dying of some overdose.

"MANU? ARE YOU O—" Thomas yelled but was interrupted by the view.

A half naked, grinning Manuel laying on the sofa with a few women and even men scattered around the living.

"THOMAAAAAS! COME JOIN, THIS ONE...THIS ONE CLARAAAAAAA SHE'S VERRRRYYYY NIIICE!" Manuel's words slurred together as he yelled at a boxer clad Thomas, whose eyes were wide open. And that's when it clicked. An enraged Thomas flew down the stairs.

"EVERYONE OUT! RIGHT NOW!" Thomas opened the door and all of the giggling, drunk off their butts girls exited the house.

Manuel stuck his tongue out and tried to lick the angry Thomas, who whacked him away, tackling him down to the couch.

"You need to get yourself together! I've had ENOUGH!" Thomas hit Manuel on the head, who narrowed his eyes.

"Big baddddd Tommy!" Manuel whined. Thomas groaned and walked back upstairs, dragging Manuel behind him.

"Go to sleep, you'll regret training tomorrow..." Thomas whispered and turned off the light.

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"I'm gonna have to blow up your door if you don't open it right now!" William screamed on the third day that Amelia camped in her room.

"You don't have to," Amelia swung open the door. She was dressed in a spaghetti strap tank top and the shortest of the shorts. Her eyeliner was circled around her eyes in a thick ring, making her look like a hooker.

"What are you wearing?" William said as calmly as he could.

"Something new," Amelia shrugged as she walked away.

"You've been in there for three days, to do that?!" William's mouth was practically dropped to the ground.

"Yes," Amelia merely said, trotting down the stairs. She felt like she was in one of those teen movies that the girl goes through the transformation and gets all the boys. She was hoping for something like that...

"Amelia you can't go out like that!" William chased after her.

"Watch me." And Amelia was long gone.

Amelia walked a few blocks until the night life of the city was in her view. She entered the first club she came in contact with.

The music blasted into her ears and that was the last time Amelia remembered the night.

_____________

Amelia woke up in a cold sweat, looking around frantically for any sign of light. She felt a pair of muscular arms around her, but couldn't see a face.

There was a noise, and Amelia winced in pain as her head pounded from one too many drinks.

A realization dawned on Amelia that she was no longer in the slut-fest she was in the night before. Someone had kindly thrown on a short sleeve shirt and some huge sweatpants.

Where was she?

There was no doubt of who was beside her, with a million thoughts running through her painful head, as the voice grumbled out,

"Good morning, Miss Amelia."

______________

authors note

i was reading some stories on here and realized this story was trash like for real.

and im so so sorry you guys had to read it!! im gonna try to fix it and write better...but i apologize deeply!! omg i feel so embarrassed right now my goodness

anyway THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING

SHIP SOMEONE #MANELIA #WENA

ilysm <3