Wasted (Neymar Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Thirteen

Please listen to the song by the side. It is Amar Não é Pecado by Luan Santana. If you need the translation for this beautifully sad song, check out http://lyricstranslate.com/en/amar-nao-e-pecado-its-not-sin-love.html

 

Thirteen

 

-Neymar-

The black-and-white football soared through the air, and Stegen jumped, trying to reach out to block it with his gloved hands…

But it wasn’t even aimed right. It hit the white metallic border of the net and I kicked the grassy ground in frustration, gritting my teeth in anger.

“What the hell!” I screamed in rage.

It has been 2 hours since we started playing, and I hadn’t even been able to shoot one goal. Either Stegen managed to block it—and he had a minor leg injury—or my goal wasn’t even properly aimed.

“Dude,” Sánchez said as he came up to me, who was bending my knees, my hands on my thighs, crouching and trying to catch a breath. “Take a break, won’t you?”

“No thanks,” I growled out as I rubbed the dirt on my hands on my black Nike shorts. “Let’s start again.”

“Sánchez is right, Neymar. Go get some air and a drink or something. You look as pale as Snow White,” Stegen said, a concerned look on his face. “Seriously, if it’s something about Gabri, we don’t mind if you leave-”

“No,” I said, my eyes hardening at that person’s name. “It’s not about her, okay?”

Stegen gave me a ‘yeah, right’ look before sighing and turning to Sánchez. “Go and buy some drinks from the vending machine, please.” The blonde said, bobbing his head to the other end of the field. Sánchez sensed that he wasn’t needed and nodded, and headed over to the side of the stadium to get something to refresh ourselves.

“Seriously, Ney; what happened? I know you for quite some time now. Something’s wrong, I can tell.” Stegen said to me, his eyebrows creased in worry. I sighed and plopped down to the ground, rubbing my eyes tiredly. Stegen gently sat down beside me. “Come on, bro.”

“I slept with Gabriela, okay?” I blurted out as I looked away from Stegen’s prying eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Steg in the eye as I said that. Stegen practically choked beside me.

“You did what?!” Stegen exclaimed. “No, no, no. You did who?”

“Shut up, Steg. God, Messi’s going to kill me. Hell, I’m going to kill myself. Don’t give me that look. I was drunk, okay?” I said as Stegen wagged his finger in my face.

Silence fell over us. Stegen sighed heavily beside me. “You know, you’ve been stringing her along. I bet it was definitely not her idea of sleeping with you.”

I kept silent.

“Neymar, Neymar, Neymar,” he tutted. “Being sweet innocent Gabby’s first-”

“What?” I looked at him, wide-eyed.

“Yeah,” Stegen began, “I said, you took her-”

“I heard that alright.” I said as my mind began whirring. Me? H-her first?

God, no. Oh shit.

“Messi is so going to kill me…”

“You got that right,” Stegen said right when Sánchez returned with three cans of Pepsi. Steg thanked him and took the two from his hands and passed me one, popping open the cap. He pulled me up into a standing position, “C’mon now, you bad boy. Let’s train.”

For some reasons, I played horribly, with my mind wandering to the small snippets I remember from my drunken state, with Gabriela’s beautiful body that lied under mine.  I played so badly. Because I knew something was wrong.

Because I realized… maybe Messi was right. Maybe there’s some other place in my heart that’s waiting for that someone special to fill up.

Or maybe I’m just overthinking.

-Gabriela-

“Okay, now slowly,” Bruna said as she gently guided me into the bathroom, my hands stiff beside me as I walked absentmindedly beside Bruna. The brunette had her hand clasped onto my forearm to guide me.

I was sure my eyes were lifeless, my hair a mess and the Nebraska shirt I’d gotten during my holiday there I’d thrown on crumpled and sticky with patches of red blood. But for once, I didn’t care if I looked like a pile of crap beside Bruna.

“Oh my God, okay,” Bruna said nervously before she opened the bathroom door and opened the tap before bringing my bloody hands below the sink. It was obvious that medical wasn’t her forte. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

Under normal circumstances, I would’ve screamed out or yelped in pain. But then I felt so numbed that I didn’t even notice the stinging sensation the cuts on my hands felt when the water washed over it.

“Right, there we go. Let’s go patch it up, okay?” Bruna said to no one in particular; I was too caught in with my heartbreak to respond to anything. She brought me out to the living room and sat me down. She got a few Band-Aids and applied them, smiling at me. “There; good as new,” She said, as if talking to a child. I nodded unconsciously.

Bruna sat beside me as silence washed over us. I looked down at my hands. “So, what happened?” Bruna asked softly.

“I-” I began, but my eyes were already watery. But I knew I had to do it. Even if it’d hurt me more than before. “You know… Neymar really loves you. I-it would be amazing if y-you you gave him a chance. It’s like… seriously, he can’t live without you. I-I would be really glad if you guys got back together. Neymar would be so much better with you by his side.”

Bruna’s eyes softened. “Do you know… someone in Paris once told me that love isn’t when you want someone for yourself because you love him too much to let go of him. Love isn’t selfish. No, love is when you’re selfless, and you would do anything in the world to make him happy, even if that meant you have to let go of him and let him get the happiness he deserves.” A silent tear dripped down my eyes. “And you, my darling, you love him.”

David Lucca said beside me, in front of the piano as my fingers glided over the smooth black and white keyboard. How long has it been since I played the piano? The last time I did, it was probably when I was back at the orphanage. The piano usually brought me bad memories of my childhood, but…

My fingers pressed on the chords and slowly, I began to play.

“Eu não sei, de onde vem, essa força que me leva pra você

Eu só sei que faz bem, mas confesso que no fundo eu duvidei

Tive medo, e em segredo, guardei o sentimento e me sufoquei

Mas agora, é a hora, eu vou gritar pra todo mundo de uma vez

Eu tô apaixonado

Eu tô contando tudo e não tô nem ligando pro que vão dizer

Amar não é pecado

E se eu tiver errado, que se dane o mundo, eu só quero você.”

I closed my eyes and then sighed. My fingers glazed over the keyboard once more.

“It’s not a sin to love… and if this is not right…”

The last thing I remember before my hands slipped off the keyboard, before my head banged onto it, creating a noisy mix of different keys, was David Lucca’s warm hands, reaching out for mine.

Then I fell unconscious