Imagine #14 You Are Mine
You know how most celebrities don’t go to the supermarket themselves? I’m not like most celebrities. Perhaps it’s because I’m not that famous, I’m only known in Spain for my singing career and maybe some foreign people know me. Anyways, I love to buy my own groceries, for I love to cook. That leads to me entering the supermarket right now. I came to get some fruit, sweets and vegetables. I looked at the vegetables they had and grabbed a few. I continued walking to the fruit section, sometimes stopping to take a picture with someone. Once there I scanned the kind of fruits they had when I suddenly heard lots of noise coming from something like 6 meters behind me. It was definitely young men laughing and talking loudly. I rolled my eyes hearing the sounds increase before grabbing some strawberries. I had just put them in my shopping cart when someone bumped into me from behind making me bump into the boxes of fruit. I let out a groan followed by a loud sigh. I’m pretty sure it was one of those men I just heard. I turned around and came face to face with someone who I think was Neymar Jr, the famous FC Barcelona player.
“You should watch where you’re going.” I told him with a stern voice.
“Sorry, my friend pushed me and I lost my ba-” He started explaining.
“Save it. You may be Barcelona’s hot shot, but I don’t work that way.” I winked at him.
“Fair enough, thank god you’re butt broke my fall.” He winked back.
My eyes widened, “Are you trying to insult my butt?”
“What? No, on the contrary!”
“Oh wait… Weren’t you the one who tweeted, and I quote, ‘Y/N has one of the best *peach emoji*’? I recalled.
He looked like he was blushing and I could hear his friends laughing in the back.
"Uhh… yeah… I mean… That was like a year ago, I was still a boy back then. And I didn’t even mean it like that, it was just a bet.” He rambled, not making any sense. I doubt he himself knows what he is saying.
“Sure it was a bet.”
“It really was a bet.” He assured me, though I could tell he was lying so I raised one eyebrow and gave him a look.
“It was not a bet.” He admitted at last.
“I knew it. Then what did you mean with that tweet?”
“I… uhh… What did I mean?” He asked himself a rhetorical question.
I shook my head disapprovingly and continued walking, Neymar automatically following me, “If this is your way of flirting, Neymar, you’re doing a terrible job and I’m still waiting on an answer.”
His friends were about dying of laughter, standing just 2 meters away from us. One of them shouted, “Grow some balls and just tell her, dude.”