"Hello Amelia."
The voice made my body shake as I froze, completely still in the middle of the pavement.
"Papá?" I spoke with my own voice, hoarse and dry, scared of a response.
"You know you dropped a packet of gum? I thought we taught you not to litter? Although I guess you went against most of what we said, didn't you?"
I spun around where I was stood and low and behold, a crumpled packet of chewing gum was on the floor behind me. I checked my pockets and the packet was gone, it had to be mine.
"How did you know that?"
"Oh I know everything hija," he laughed his cruel laugh, sending a shiver down my spine.
"You're not here, I'm not scared," I continued to whip my head from side to side, scared he would creep up on me.
"I'm here," I heard movement on his side of the phone.
"Prove it then," I said, wanting him to stop hiding as my anxiety only grew.
"Alright, hold up however many fingers and I'll tell you." That wasn't what I meant but I wouldn't miss the opportunity. I smirked, holding the phone to my ear with my left hand and using my right to point my middle finger up in the air, spinning on the spot so he could see it from wherever he was hiding.
"You have no manners. And you wonder why you're such a disappointment. You're meant to respect your elders," he slurred his words a little as he spoke.
"I'll give respect where respect is due," I snapped back at him.
I heard him laugh slowly, "Oh how I wish you didn't act this way Amelia. You're only making things worse for yourself."
I kept my mouth in a straight line, not wanting to show any sign that I was scared, although my shaking knees definitely gave it away.
"Papá? Dad? You're breaking up, the signals bad I-" I hung up the phone slyly with my thumb as I kept it held to my ear. I looked at it confused pretending to dial a number and it "failing" before trying again and it really being Neymar.
"Pick up, pick up!" I muttered under my breath.
"Amelia! Jesus Christ! You had me scared, I've been looking everywhere. You know-"
"The side street down the left of the bar with the big wedding party," I spoke with only the corner of my mouth before ending the call and actually dialling the one my dad was calling me off earlier.
It rang for a few times before he picked up.
"Finally! Sorry this phone's shit," I laughed however he stayed silent, "Padre?"
"Hija."
"It was an accident, it weren't my fault. Come on, carry on with the threats! It was just getting juicy!"
I heard a sigh on his end of the phone, making my lips perk up. I was pissing him off, something I loved doing.
"You're a horrible daughter, have I ever told you that?" he spat.
"Only since I was five," I laughed.
"You're sitting on mountains of money and don't think to help your poor parents! The ones who provided you with all the opportunities that got you to where you are in the first place! Without our support you-"
I erupted into a fit of laughter, clutching my sides as I pulled the phone away from my ear before returning it, "You're support? Gosh, dad you found some humor in our sad time apart?"
*tw- talks of suicide*
"Everything we ever did was for you!"
"For me? The beatings, the insults, the attempts? Let me guess, it was for my own good?" My voice grew louder as tears started to well in my eyes.
"You chose to try and kill yourself, that was nothing to do with us. And look, you didn't even succeed in that!" he laughed as my mouth dropped open, "All you did was bring more shame to our family after that!"
"Surely you don't mean that..."
"I don't take it back. You're a failure in every aspect of your life, so much of a failure you couldn't even end it without fucking it up!"
"I'm a failure? You're the grown ass man, begging your daughter for money as her career is way more successful than anything you've ever achieved. Have some pride and take a loan from a bank or something if you need the money that bad," I scoffed.
"Deny it all you want, you know you're a failure. You know you're a disappointment. It would've done us all a favour if you could do one fucking thing right and taken the extra pills!"
My eyes widened and I felt a tear finally leave them, "Well you know what? I'm glad it didn't work. I'm glad I'm still here and you got to see what an amazing daughter you missed out on!"
"Whatever, I'm done with talking to you. I'll be less amicable in our next encounter," he hung up the phone, leaving me to stare at it with tears still streaming down my face. He wanted me dead?
"You tried to kill yourself?" I turned around and saw Neymar standing there, his eyes glossy and hurt.
"I-" I tried to find something to say but my mind was blank.
He walked up to me, engulfing my body in a tight hug, finally giving myself permission to let it all out as I cried on his shoulder.
"I want to go home Neymar. Please, I can't do this anymore," The tears kept flowing and my voice came out shaky as he carried on stroking my hair.
"Shush, it's okay linda, you're alright. I'm here, nobody's gonna hurt you."
I don't know how long we stood like that, me in his arms as I completely broke down. He tightened his grip around my trembling body and rocked us from side to side as I sniffed after ranting about everything.
I looked up at him, leaning my chin on his chest as I smiled, wiping my eyes, "I'm joking, it's not that deep. Can we go back now?"
He held the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep breath, "You drive me crazy, there's no way you said it's not that deep."
"It was time ago, let's just get back to the room," I grabbed his hand, pulling him with me as we made our way up the road.
There were crowds outside the casinos lining the street to our hotel, causing Neymar to walk slightly ahead of me to pave our way through. He held me close behind him so we wouldn't get separated and we were soon out in open space, making me let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
However, he still decided to hold my hand and keep me close and I didn't fight it for once. I wanted to tell him everything, how shit I felt, how scared I truly was and most of all, how much I missed him, how much I needed him. But I couldn't.
We walked through the lobby and took the lift up to our floor in a weird silence. I wanted to say something, but what do I say after that?
The elevator dinged, signalling the doors were about to open. He dropped my hand to dig in his pocket for the room key, finding it and unlocking the door. He only faced me then when he held it for me and I could see his eyes were still glossy. For fucks sake.
I sighed, flopping onto the single bed, "Why are you upset?"
"When did you try to kill yourself?" his voice and face displayed no sign of emotion as he spoke.
"Are we still talking about this? Just drop it, God!" I rolled my eyes, kicking my shoes off.
"Just drop it? Are you crazy?" His voice grew angry as I ignored him, "Amelia!"
"What?" I shouted back at him.
He took a deep breath, not being as loud this time, "When?"
I put both hands on my temple, not wanting to argue anymore, "2009."
I looked up after getting no reply from him, his lips were slightly parted as he did the maths in his head, "We were seventeen?"
I nodded and his whole face softened as he wiped his eyes before any tears could fall.
"Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped, you could've stayed at mine. I could've sorted it all and-"
I interrupted by getting up and hugging him around his neck as he buried his head into the crook of mine. I felt his body tremble, "Amelia man, why? If it worked, I... I don't even know what I would've fucking done. Why didn't you come to me?"
I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from crying again, "I don't know Neymar. I felt sad and alone and I just. I just couldn't deal with it anymore. It was the night coach came to the house. I know he was trying to help, trying to get them to let me play but it fucked my life up and I can never forgive him for it. He baited me out to my parents, they never knew I played football. The beatings that night were so bad, I still get nightmares now. Dad was crazy drunk and mãe was high out of her mind to do anything about it."
"You could've sneaked out, I would've protected you. I'll always protect you, even if you hate me and we're complete enemies, I'll always fucking protect you man," his voice cracked, making tears finally run down my own cheeks.
"It weren't just that. Afterwards he searched my room, stripped it completely. Bashed up my wardrobe and shit, found them football boots that I stole and were three sizes too big for me, remember them? He found your clothes and the clothes I bought to play in. He went mental. I walked in and just found my room teared to pieces. Bits of wood everywhere, my drawers emptied out, there was no room to walk without stepping on something. I remember crying still from his hits but seeing that made me cry harder, I had nowhere to go to escape him and-"
"But you did! You could've come and seen me! I could've helped!"
"You're like 5'10 now, at seventeen you were a midget. You wouldn't of been able to take my dad so stop acting like you could've. It's done, it's in the past now. I can't change how I reacted," I sighed, taking my hands off his neck but he kept me from moving by tightening his grip around my waist.
"I'm not angry at you for that. I just can't believe I'm only finding out about it now and I wish I could've done something," he said.
"It's not your fault Neymar," I knew he would be blaming himself which is exactly why I never told him.
"But if I had paid more attention or if I-"
"Neymar, it's not your fault."
We stood in a comfortable silence for a while, me leaning on his chest as he kept his arms wrapped around me.
"How much did you drink today linda?" he asked, pulling out the hug, causing me to sit on the end of the bed now.
"Only like two shots, I'm fine," I shrugged.
He sighed, leaning back on the headboard.
"What?" I asked, confused.
He rolled his eyes, "Nothing."
"I'm so done with your 'nothing' shit. If you have a problem, say it so we can fix it or don't bring it up at all."
"I don't have a problem, I just-" He let out a breath and held the bridge of his nose as I gestures for him to go on, "I know we talk but like, you only ever seem to properly have a conversation with me once you've drank and then you barely remember it the next day. I wondered why you were finally opening up but of course I was just being stupid. Why do you have to be drunk to talk to me?"
"Bro it was two shots," I laughed, "I'm not drunk, how much of a lightweight do you think I am?"
"That's not the point Amelia. Why don't you want to talk to me sober?" he stressed as I sat there, beyond confused.
"Are we speaking the same language? I had two shots," I held up two fingers, "I can walk and talk, I'm not going crazy and acting dumb am I?"
"You are! If you could think straight then you'd know that I was right and you do only talk to me when your drunk and need somebody. You're done with my 'nothing shit', well I'm done with your entitled shit. I told you I'll always be there but your just using it to your advantage and using me when you feel like it and it's not fair. I want us to be normal again. I want to tell you how I feel without you forgetting it the next morning," his head was in his hands as I sat there dumbfounded. How did we go from my suicide attempt to me not talking to him?
"I'm using you? You're the one that fucking used me by letting me look after you and feel sorry for you when you had your injury, when the whole time you were out fucking another bitch. You play with my feelings all the fucking time and I can't deal with it! We can't just be normal again, it will never be as it was because you messed it up. Call me entitled for not getting back with the guy that cheated on me, I don't care," I rolled my eyes, getting up to leave.
"What so you're just gonna run away as you always do? Then probably end up calling me at 3am to pick you up?" he sneered at me.
"Run away? Bitch, you don't scare me. And no, don't worry I'll call Frisco to pick me up," I smiled at him as his jaw clenched.
"You're just as bad as me then!"
"How? We aren't dating, this isn't cheating. I can do what I want. Remember you asked why I didn't open up to you? Replay this whole situation in your head right now. I told you about my suicide attempt, or was willing to, until you started an argument midway through about you not getting enough fucking attention? I didn't even get to finish the story. You're such a self-centred prick," I put my coat on and reached for the door.
"And you're not?"
"I can be self-centred since I am actually the shit. I don't even know what you are but you certainly aren't the Neymar I used to know," I closed the door before he could answer and took a deep breath before heading down the corridor.
I didn't know where I was going, what I was doing. But it would be okay. I probably wouldn't even remember this argument in a few months so what's the big deal? We always end up getting dragged back together so it'll be fine. Won't it?