C O D E W O R D | neymar jr

XXXVII

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Known for her hair, her aura, and most importantly, her boyfriends! Welcome Anastasia Valentine to the stage." The presenter screamed as I hesitantly walked towards him, my heart racing at the small crowd of people.

The lights lit the way, with large spotlights following my every move with applause alongside. A somewhat famous interviewer had invited me to his show, and while it seemed fun to accept then, it doesn't now.

I felt the cushion caress my body as I sat opposite him, the crowd staring intently like a flower at the sun. "Hello everyone!" I grinned, praying my makeup wouldn't sweat off as it accumulated on my skin.

"Now everyone would kill me if I didn't ask you this, so get ready." He cleared his throat as a symphony of drumroll sounds surrounded us. "What is the deal with you and all these footballers?" I laughed, a fake laugh, yet it managed to sound believable enough: "Is it the muscles or the game? Was your dad a football superstar?"

"My dad was the opposite; he had a beer in one hand and poker cards in the other!" I joked. "Honestly, it's more than the men I've clicked with are all footballers; perhaps there's something in the game."

"Maybe! Or maybe it's the check that comes with it." The audience erupted into laughter at his comment, and I ignored the gold-digging comment once again; it was a prevailing notion in my situation. "How would you refute the gold-digger claims?"

"Well, the financial gains are a bonus, but I find it's the passion of footballers. My fiancee, for example, plays like it's only him and the ball in his world. With his passion, his drive, and his success. He achieves what he aims for, and that is truly the most attractive thing." I lied; he wasn't driven or motivated, and he drank every day and did other things at night. My example belongs to another ex.

"Kylian Mbappe, Neymar Junior, and Alexander Mendes are three of the most influential men. What about the woman who got them all? What would you like people to know about you?" He asked, and the question seemed difficult to answer, about a topic rarely discussed when people gossip about Anastasia Valentine.

"I'd like them to know," My mind raced with possibilities. "Everything I've ever done has been done with love."

"Wow." He marvelled, "That is beautiful." He placed his hand on his heart in an empathetic way, yet it was easy to see past his facade, as though he was listening to my words but not my voice. "This brings us to the next segment. You call Mr Mendes your fiancée, meaning you have not officially signed the papers. Am I correct?"

"No, we haven't; we're getting married in December." I gave a confused stare as I witnessed people start to move things onto the stage.

"You've been engaged for how long now?" He questioned himself, choosing to ignore the stage being set up. My curiosity lingered in the air as my head peaked up to see what the cast was doing, yet he continued to disregard the activities.

"Two months later, we dated for four," I exclaimed, growing more anxious by the minute while the presenter smiled with a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

"How did you two meet again?"

A playful smile snuck onto my lips as I recalled the experience. "Word got out about my recent breakup, and in a sneaky move, he took to Twitter and publically asked me out to Spain. Initially, I was going to deny the request, but his fanbase did not let me say no!" I recalled. "I said yes, and here we are!"