For gianny: Neymar

You had come from a long line of Brazilian footballers. Your great grandfather, your grandfather, and your father had been footballers, proudly representing Brazil. You had been the only child of your parents before your mother and father had divorced. Raised primarily by your mother, the football that ran through your blood quickly became apparent.

You were fast on your feet and you loved doing little tricks on the streets of Brazil. Your mother had refused any support from your father or his family, wanting to severe every and all ties with that part of her life. You and your mother moved in with your aunt, who lived in Rio de Janeiro. You often wanted to play with the other kids in the streets.

However, they looked down on you because you were a girl. You had roughly chopped off your hair and pretended to be a boy, much to your mother's surprise. They let you play and you grew better and better every day. Your mother reluctantly got you a trial with a professional women's team and you tried out. They didn't accept you, but you were not one to be deterred by anyone. You would fight for your spot, and you did.

At age nineteen, you were offered a trial at Barcelona. You accepted and a representative flew out to Brazil to meet you. At age twenty, you signed an official contract with them and you moved to Barcelona, Spain. You didn't watch much football, save for your own matches to pick out what to improve on or Brazil/Barcelona matches with your friends.

As you made your mark on the world, the press was increasingly criticizing you. Your father had been a goalkeeper, but you preferred the forward position, like your grandfather, Pele had played in. They always compared you to your grandfather, which annoyed you to no end. Then, they started to compare you to Neymar, which annoyed you even more.

You had enough problems dealing with the press, and your fellow Brazilian wasn't making it easier for you by transferring to the same club as you. You hadn't even ever met Neymar. You were both busy and Barcelona is a big city. The press loved to photo shop the two of you together on as many occasions as they could, however. You just wanted to play football, was that too much?

A co-ed practice for both Barcelona teams was suggested and you were forced to go. Arriving an hour early, you quickly changed and started to juggle a ball. You heard the familiar clack of cleats on tile and turned to see a certain Brazilian walk out of the tunnel. He looked up and a surprised look passed across his face. "Good morning," he stated.

"Good morning," you replied, going back to juggling soon afterwards. Messing around with the ball, you concentration was broken by Neymar juggling besides you. "What are you doing?"

"Can I not juggle the ball next to you?" Neymar asked annoyed.

"Do whatever the hell your heart pleases," you rolled your eyes, going back to your own juggling. Feeling the impact of a ball on your back, you turned around, catching the ball out of the air. "Can I help you?"

"Ever heard of the ball slipping?" Neymar replied. You tapped the ball into the air, and it 'accidently' hit Neymar in the face. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Ever heard of the ball slipping?" you winked.

"You're acting like a real bi--"

"—Neymar," Andres warned as he and Lionel made their ways over to the two of you, followed by your captain.

"How did I know that you two would be butting heads?" she rolled her eyes. "C'mon, time to warm up." You shot one last glare over at Neymar before jogging after your teammate. The women and men warmed up separately before getting together to do a few drills.

"Everyone grab a partner, we'll be doing some passing and shooting drills," one of the coaches stated. "And your partner has to be of the opposite sex." You groaned and tried to find a partner. Of course, you didn't usually attend the co-team parties or such so you were soon left with no available partner.

"I can't find a partner," you told one of your teammates.

"What a coincidence, Neymar over here was looking for a partner too. Have fun!" she smiled, walking away with her partner. You and Neymar locked eyes, a look of mutual hate going back and forth between the two of you.

"Look I don't like you, you don't like me. Let's just get the drill over and done with and then we can go back to glaring holes in each other's bodies," you stated.

"Whatever," Neymar muttered, walking over to get a ball.

"You're quite the charmer, sweetheart," you called over your shoulder as you went into your position for the drill. Neymar returned with a ball and the two of you stood across from each other.

"Alright, now one group is going to defend while the other attacks. Work with your partner to accomplish your goal," the coach said before blowing the whistle. You and Neymar were first facing off against Marc Bartra and one of your teammates. Neymar passed you the ball. Marc stepped forward and you passed the ball to an awaiting Neymar. He tapped it past your teammate but was shut down when Marc slide tackled the ball out of play.

You and Neymar took your defensive positions. "That was a beautiful goal, by the way, you know the one you should have scored."

"You should just quit now because when they come running at us, you're going to be absolutely useless."

"You're a striker as well, sweetie."

"Stop calling me that, would you?"

"Whatever works for you, honey muffins," you cooed sarcastically as the whistle went off. Your captain and Andres advanced. Neymar moved to take on your captain but she passed to Andres. You ran down the field, slowing him down enough for Neymar to fall back. Andres was able to get a cross in, allowing your awaiting teammate to score an easy goal. "That was some great tracking, right there. Just exit the field completely next time and it should be perfect," you said sarcastically.

"Why don't you take your head out of your ass, it's not a hat," Neymar growled.

"For God's sakes, if you two want to go have an angry make out session, do it in the locker room where we can't see it!" Dani Alves shouted.

"Oh shut up!" you and Neymar said at the same time. Huffing angrily, the both of you stomped away from each other, much to the amusement of his and your teammates and coaches.