I sat in one of the armchairs of the lobby, waiting for Valentina to pick me up. I told her to reschedule the shoot for this evening as I'd be leaving tomorrow. She tried to argue but I told her I had already made up my mind and she eventually gave in.
I just didn't understand why he was so angry, surely if he was really trying to prove to me he's 'worthy of my love' then he wouldn't be starting arguments over petty shit. Especially after I finally open up to him about personal things. He just made it all about himself.
"Amelia, we're parked round the corner," Steven came through the sliding doors in his suit to tell me they arrived. He walked me out to the car and kept people from bumping into me as I climbed in.
"No, private issues came up and-" Valentina paused, rolling her eyes as the person on the other end of the phone must've spoken over her. "I know, she knows. We wouldn't be doing this unless it was absolutely necessary, she's missing out on money too. Thank you for being so understanding and you'll see us in under an hour," she hung up the phone before they could argue, "Are you okay?"
I nodded, not knowing what to say. If I told her I had an argument with Neymar then it'd be a pathetic reason to leave but I couldn't tell her about the reason behind it or my parents.
Her eyes stayed glued to me as I pretended to be busy on my phone but she didn't press the matter any further, knowing that I'd talk to her if I was comfortable with it. She was good like that, I never felt pressured to do things and she was always so understanding. I think even If she wasn't my manager we'd still be friends.
She spoke after a few minutes of silence and the radio playing in the background, "I'm guessing Neymar is a factor in this which means you're probably going to hate me."
She winced as she spoke, making me raise a brow. "He's coming to the shoot and after your individual photos are taken you're doing some together."
My eyes went wide, "No! I'm not doing that. I'll go in, do mine and then leave."
"Amelia please. I'm already in loads of shit because of you dropping out of this, just do this one thing, an hour of your time and then you can be gone," she pleaded.
I took in a deep breath, "Fine. But don't think I'll be talking to him."
"I'm not asking for that," she smiled, "Thank you."
We pulled up to a large skyscraper, making my jaw drop as I looked up at the intimidating building.
"Amelia come on, we have to get you settled and sorted before they start," she grabbed my hand, pulling me inside.
———
"Right and you're ready girl!" The makeup artist was a tall dark skinned girl, maybe about nineteen or twenty. She was really nice and hyped me up the whole time she did my makeup.
I walked onto set and spotted Neymar already waiting to the side.
"Amelia Marchado?" A photographer was looking all over for me as I approached him, laughing awkwardly and wondering whether he got whiplash from how fast he turned his head left to right. "Ah! You're here. Stand in the centre."
I stood on the cross, shifting my weight to either side of my body as I posed. Neymar practically burnt holes into my side from how hard he was staring, as if photoshoots weren't awkward enough.
"Perfect! Michael give her a football and the boots."
A guy, I'm assuming was Michael, ran over in seconds and put the boots on for me even though I assured it wasn't necessary. He tied my laces as well before running out the frame again.
My eyes scanned the room for the photographer but I was soon faced with Neymar again, except this time his jaw was clenched and arms folded over his chest.
Everyone seemed to have tried to sneak a quick break as hardly any staff were in the room. I resorted to asking Neymar if he saw where he went but was met with a, "I'm sure Michael knows. Why don't you ask him?"
I rolled my eyes, sitting on the football and messing with the skin around my nails, a bad habit I had when I was awkward or bored.
"Sorry I had to get the other camera. We just need you to do a couple tricks, have fun whatever," the photographer explained.
I nodded, getting up and started doing a few kick ups.
As the camera got closer to the boots, I did an around the world and then he pulled it away again so my full body was in the frame. I rolled my foot over the left side of my foot before bringing it up the back of my calve and kicking it with my other leg, successfully doing a rainbow flick. This earned me a few nods of approval from the guys on set and the same make up artist clapped, causing me to laugh, luckily just after he stopped filming.
"Alright, you're good for now. Go change and come back for the joint shoot once Neymar's done with his," the photographer directed me.
I wondered through the back hallways, careful not to trip over the many wires covering the floor. I sat at the vanity in the dressing room I was given and sorted my hair out.
There was a knock on the door, "Are you decent?"
I laughed, "Yeah. Come in."
Michael opened the door, grinning at me, "Sorry just had to check."
I laughed again, "You're good, you're good."
He just sort of looked at me for a second, making me chuckle awkwardly, "Did you need something?"
"Oh right! These are what you need to change into," he handed me a pair of nike shorts and a sports bra.
"So not only do I have to do a shoot with my ex-boyfriend but I'm in only a sports bra as well?" I looked from the piece of material then back to him in disbelief.
He looked at me sympathetically, "Sorry, it was nothing to do with me."
"No I know, it's just annoying."
"I'll let you change, shout me if you need anything," I nodded and he closed the door behind him.
"Fuck this shit," I muttered, complaining as I pulled off the nike leggings I had been given and changed into the skin-tight shorts that went right up my arse. Great.
"Amelia! We need you back on set!" I heard Michael call from the hallway.
"One second!" I shouted back, throwing the hoodie I was previously wearing into the corner of the room and changing into the sports bra. I jogged out the room and over to the white backdrop again where Neymar was already sat on a chair.
"About time," he grumbled.
"Shut the fuck up," I rolled my eyes, turning my attention to the photographer, "The chair?"
"Neymar's going to lean back on it, we need you behind him and just drop your arms around his neck," he messed with the camera as he spoke and I looked at him wide eyed.
"You've gotta be joking, I'm-"
"Amelia," Valentina warned from across the room. I had wondered where she went.
I trudged over to stand behind the chair as Neymar sat with a stupid smirk on his face.
"I swear to God, I'll wipe that smile straight off your face if you don't-"
"And pose!" the photographer interrupted and I was forced to do as told.
I leant forwards, hanging my arms over each of his shoulders as he man-spreaded, holding onto one of my hands with his own and the other hand going into his pocket.
"Lovely! Amelia don't be shy, get a bit closer!"
I took a deep breath as Neymar laughed from in front of me.
"I fucking hate this," I said through gritted teeth.
"Oh I'm sure you do princesa," he said with the same arrogance he always had.
I rolled my eyes, "Don't call me that."
"My bad. Amelia," he smirked, looking up at me and a flash went off before I could answer.
"Perfect!" the photographer shouted before kneeling to get more angles.
Neymar was getting to enjoy this way too much, it was time I flipped the tables.
"Wait, Michael, could you adjust the straps on this please?" I asked him and at the mention of his name, he was straight at my side.
"What, tighter?"
"Yeah please," I smiled at him to which he instantly returned and started changing the lengths of the straps on the back of my sports bra, "That's good. Thank you."
"No problem," he smiled before walking off.
"Right back how you were please Amelia," the photographer pulled my gaze away from Michael as I reluctantly walked back to Neymar who no longer had a smirk.
"Everything alright?" I asked him quietly as we got back into position.
He looked at me before looking back at the camera, not even bothering to answer. I smirked, knowing my plan had worked.
———
An hour later and we had finally finished. I was packing away the clothes I was allowed to keep when Michael entered the room.
"Yo."
"Hey, you good?" I asked, out of habit, barely even sparing a glance as I carried on loading the clothing into the duffel bag.
"Yeah, yeah I'm straight. I know it's a lil unprofessional and all but nobody gotta know, how about you let me take you out?" he said, leaning on the desk as I turned to face him.
"I'm leaving tomorrow," I winced slightly, realising maybe I had been leading him on just to make Ney jealous.
"Leaving to where?" he looked at me confused.
"Back home, Spain. I won't be in America," I laughed, scratching the back of my head awkwardly.
"Aw shit, for real?"
"Yeah sorry."
"What times your flight tomorrow then?" he asked, smiling.
I hesitated before answering, "Evening, why?"
"Shit, let me take you out tonight then!" he laughed loudly as I looked at him unimpressed.
"I gotta pack my stuff and sort where I'm staying tonight. I won't have time. Sorry Michael but I really need to go," I said, trying to walk out the room but him stopping me by the door.
"Come on shawty. You can stay at mine if you don't have nowhere," he smirked, holding me by the waist to stop me from walking.
"Ain't no way you just said shawty," I erupted into a fit of laughter as he looked at me confused.
"What?"
"Sorry," I wheezed, "I just thought they only said that stuff in the movies."
He rolled his eyes, "Come on. I'm parked round the side."
He took my wrist in his hand, trying to pull me out the dressing room and down the left of the corridor.
"Nah," I pulled my arm out his grip, "I'm good."
"Stop being difficult man!" he threw his hands in the air before lunging to grab mine again.
"She's said no like three times, are you not embarrassed?" Neymar appeared behind him, grabbing his wrist so he couldn't touch me again.
"It's not that deep. I get it's your ex and whatever but she can do her thing," Michael held up his hands as Neymar laughed before pushing his tongue up against the inside of his cheek.
"You're not her thing, which might be why you've been rejected three times in a row. Catch on to the hint irmão."
"Irmão? The fuck that mean?" Michael's voice was high and loud, I couldn't tell if it was because he was nervous or just American.
Neymar held the bridge of his nose, trying not to laugh but I didn't hold back as Michael looked between us.
"What? Is he cussing me out or some shit?" He started cracking his knuckles, trying to intimidate Neymar who just raised his eyebrows before smirking.
"Alright. Well Michael, it was lovely to meet you. We'll be going now," I tried to grab Neymar with me before any trouble would start but his feet stayed glued to the spot, making me groan.
His hands were crossed over his chest and under each armpit. His eyes stayed focused on Michael, daring him to do something.
"Guys this is pretty awkward. You gonna fight or make out with each other?" I laughed as their gaze moved from each other to me.
"I'll leave the making out to you, seeing as you're experienced and entertain everybody," Michael spat.
"Entertain everybody? I said no, multiple times. Stop being salty cos you can't pull," I rolled my eyes.
"Even Neymar knows. You're for the streets. I saw that post, you were literally fucking another guy before you came here!"
"Fucking another guy?" Neymar looked in between us confused.
"Yeah, what's his name? Damn, something like San Francisco," he stroked his chin as he thought.
"If you consider playing football and getting lunch as fucking, then God is your life sad," I laughed.
Neymar snorted at that which just caused him to get more angry.
"Sorry we don't all go around fucking everybody. Not everyone is as cool as you Amelia," he said sarcastically.
Neymar finally pushed him then, "Watch how you talk to her, yeah?"
"And why should I do that?" he smiled, making me cringe as I knew how this would end up.
Ney laughed, looking to the side and then turning back around with his fist already pulled back and letting it collide with the side of his face.
Michael stumbled, taking a few steps back with his eyes wide, not expecting for a fight to actually break out.
"Come on," Neymar beckoned him to come forwards so he shuffled a few steps, making me laugh. "You're all talk, can't even back it!" Neymar laughed too as he stood there at a loss for words.
"Yeah well it didn't even hurt and-"
"I can literally already see bruising," I interrupted him.
"Well I'm not going to be unprofessional and fight somebody at work," he said, nodding, satisfied with his excuse.
"Whatever man," Neymar guided me away from him by putting his hand on my lower back and walking behind me, just in case Michael decided to try it again.
We reached the front desk and I saw Valentina smirking as she watched us from the exit.
"Thanks," I said quietly after he removed his hand.
"I told you even if we're enemies I'd protect you, so I guess I have to keep my word," he shrugged.
I laughed dryly, "We're enemies? Don't you think that's a bit of an exaggeration?"
He shrugged again, "Not really."
———
2.5k words!!!