Ally's POV

I wipe my wet face hurrily as the emotions are about to knock me out. Feeling quite weak on my feet, I grip onto the seats of the plane I pass while stumbling forward.

"Excuse me Miss, are you alright?"

A blonde stewardess comes into my sight, showing me that friendly, never ending smile all of those women have.

"I'm fine"

I push myself past her and let myself fall into my seat as I breath heavily, clenching my nails into the soft material.

What was Neymar doing here?

Why did he even bother?

I try to swallow but fail miserably as I start coughing instead and the tears start to fall again.

Neymar yelled that he loves me.

He wanted me to stay.

Biting onto my tongue tightly in hope the physical pain will reduce the psychic one, I lean back, rest my hands on my bump and start massaging it lightly.

I need him.

I don't care about the tears that slip out of my eyes anymore but turn towards the plane window as I don't want nosy flight attendants to ask stupid questions.

The plane begins to move and goes into the air safely a few moments after, causing me to exhale in relief; I have never really liked the thought of sitting in a plane for that long, especially when you're crossing the sea.

Why did I even choose Brazil again?

What is Neymar doing right now? Is he at his appartment again, feeling down because of me? Is he crying? Or even damaging things letting all his anger out?

I try to ban all the bad and painful thoughts about the person who used to make me the happiest and take out my headphones. Music has always reduced the hurt and the mourning after crushed dreams.

---

I wake up and find the whole plane drenched in bright light. Trying to open my eyes carefully, I feel like throwing up any minute as I reach for the glass of water I've ordered while listening to music earlier.

As I finally get myself to open my eyes slowly, I look out of the plane window immediately, realizing that we are crossing the sea just now. The thought of the plane might crashing right above the water that never seems to end, makes myself go sick as I already push my way to the toilet that luckily is not closed.

I empty everything that once was in my stomach into the toilet and stay on the ground for a few moments, leaning at the toilet.

Now I am lying on the cold, hard ground...

Taylor Swift's words sound fitting right now as I find myself sitting on the floor of a plane toilet, probably having the worst moment in my entire life. I hold onto the sink to lift myself up again and stare at my reflection in the tiny mirror. A completely exhausted and utterly pale woman glances back, having giant bags under her eyes and messy hair that is not even near to look neat and beautiful.

What would Neymar say if he'd see me like that?

Would he be incredibly glad that he didn't make it on time to stop me from leaving?

Or would he rather-

I force myself to stop the deadly thoughts that had been haunting me for a few hours now, I even feel like I've seen him in my dream, holding out his perfect, tanned hand for me to pull me over water, to help me out. Splashing cold water on my face, I wonder what Marc is doing right now. Maybe standing on the accurate field of Camp Nou warming up for a train session or looking into the clouds thinking of me.

Ally, you are such a selfish-

"Can you please come out of the toilet?!" a rather unfriendly voice demands harshly, causing me to snap out of my daydreams.

"Of course, hold on"

---

As I open my eyes after another short sleep, I first recognize a stewardess smiling at me, showing off the annoying, never-ending, bright smile as if she wants to get a job from Colgate for a comercial.

"We are landing miss, you have to tighten your seat belt"

I simply nod as I am still sleepy and clearly not in the mood to argue with a stupid woman.

As we finally landed safely in Brazil, I immediately contact Marc, Sarah and Erik telling them that everything is alright because they asked me to do so. Afterwards I quickly stop at a cute little coffee shop in the airport and buy myself a delicious cappucino before heading to the cab that I've ordered.

"You seem exhausted miss, are you alright?" the cabdriver asks as I climb in the vehicle and smile at him briefly.

"I had the longest flight ever" I groan, only telling him a part of the truth.

It's actually crazy that nobody in Brazil seems to recognize me although I was in a relationship with the great Neymar.

I clench my jaw as I try to hold back tears that are fighting themselves into my eyes, forcing me to let them be seen.

"You should definitely get a rest miss" the driver advices me, a funny Portuguese accent swinging in his voice.

"I will, don't worry about me" I say and return the smile he's sending me before staring out of the window for the rest of the drive, watching the beautiful Brazil scenery in the background of tons of little houses.

As we gladly reach the hotel I am staying in, I thank the cabdriver, pay and finally exit the small car.

It's about twenty o'clock here and the darkness already rises above the lovely sea again as I take a few moments to take all the first impressions of Rio in. The only thing that's falling out of the picture are the loud traffic noises and a cold breeze that makes me feel cold immediately so I decide to check in the hotel I'm staying at for the first nights.

---

The soft sounds of the waves crashing into each other and reaching the beach like a tongue that's sticking out to wet as much of the dry sand as possible makes me relax at least a little bit, just as the light breeze blowing my hair out of my face.

Brazil seems so perfect; the friendly and polite people everywhere you go, the beach directly infront of the large hotel I'm staying at and the sun that has greeted me as I still sat in the plane and curiously watched out of the window to already catch a glimpse of what will be my new home.

Home.

My mum always told me that home is where your family and friends are, that it is where you get love, secureness and backing. To be honest, I can't call Brazil my home for real, I don't know anybody here but I've received lots of love from people on the street who just randomly smiled at me in empathy without even knowing me.

I sigh as I continue walking along the barely lightened beach, enjoying the feeling of the wet sand underneath my toes and the water of the sea eventually splashing over my feet.

Neymar always wanted to take me here one day, it's all he used to speak about when we found out about the baby.

I expect tears to spill out of my eyes but it feels like I am simply to tired to even think about crying over him or at least let my thoughts travel any farther.

---

Neymar's POV

The side of the bed where she used to lie feels cold today, just like the previous days I had to survive without her. I wonder where she might be right now or how she is feeling.

Is she happy? Or relieved? Does she miss me like I miss her?

I turn to the other side, trying to find a perfect position to sleep as my thoughts wander to Ally again.

Brazil.

I always promised to take her there and show her off to my relatives, introducing her as my gorgeous wife and taking my precious newborn with us. I imagined how it would be like to take her to my favourite places and how my school friends would look when I make them meet my wonderful little family.

But that will never happen now. I probably won't even be there when my child is going to be born.

Tears of desperation wetten my cheeks and I grab onto my pillow tightly as silent sobs escape my lips. The pure thought of Ally with her perfect looks; the curled hair, the glisterning eyes, the breathtaking smile and the perfect shaped body causes hurt to spread my heart. Her angelic voice and the cute laughter that would errupt her tiny body when something funny would have happened. Ally always used to be ashamed when she laughed loudly and cheerfully and would press her hand onto her mouth tightly once all the people around us would turn around to send her looks. I never cared about the looks, I would smile politely and wrap my arm around her waist protectively to show them that the amazing girl belongs to me.

I groan and bury my face in my hands as the beautiful face of hers appear in my mind, lifting myself up in the bed.

The things that used to be normality between the both of us are the ones I am missing most about Ally, the little things that would notice nobody except of me.

Walking into the kitchen and opening a can of beer, I try to forget about the painful memories and concentrate on sheding no more tears anymore which fails miserably.

As I turn on the TV and sit down onto the couch I used to share with Ally, my glance wander from the overdramatic telenovela to the clock that is hanging above the long table.

Four o'clock. Damn.

I need to win her back.

---

Ally's POV

The sunlight beams through the half-opened curtains, making me groan and bury my face in my pillow, not willing to get up.

Forcing myself to stand up and walk to the kitchen, I ruffle through my messy hair and notice the unknown surroundings I am passing.

Oh yeah. I moved to Brazil.

I rest one hand on my already showing bump and make myself tea as I glance out of the window, watching the palms swinging in the breeze. Being in Brazil should help me to forget about the terrible things that happened back in Barcelona but those are the only things on my mind and feel like a ghost that's haunting me.

The sun shines right into my face as I enter the little balcony and place the tea cup and the local newspaper on the round table outside.

"I can't even speak Portuguese" I mutter under my breath, talking more to myself than to some other person, I mean who could possibly listen to me?

A little advertisement in English at the bottom of the first page catches my eye immediately, probably because it's the only thing I understand.

'Are you talented in putting make-up on your friends face or making her hair when you run late for a party for example? Are you a person with whom others can get along easily? Are you practically made for finishing your work perfectly even if you are in a hurry?

Then you should definitely continue reading because you would be perfect for us, the Vogue magazine! We are searching for a make-up artist who is able to be the perfect assisstant.

If you are interested in getting the job, please call us first under the following number: xxxxx-xxxx

With a little bit of luck you will be invited to our main location in Rio-'

I don't even bother contiue reading as I already grab the phone and diall the number.

---

Sorry, it's a rather boring chapter but the following chapters will get pretty interesting since I am planning on writing another seven chapters and end the book series with two bonus chapters!

I am going to an Carnival event tomorrow,do you also celebrate Carnival in the country you live?

PLease vote and comment on my story because you would make me the happiest person alive if you do! Thank you so much for all your support! xxx

Please also check out my other story 'The Night' about Marco Reus and Erik Durm! x

Have a nice weekend!