After their departure, I was thinking about what they meant.
It was while taking the dinner that I got the confirmation of what they actually meant. What was the unfinished line of Felix when I asked them about his searching. All down on me.
I didn't finish my dinner and came back to my room. What on earth left with me. I locked the door. I don't know how the took my disgust. I shouldn't have reacted in that way. They were looking at me. Why do I always think after finishing a job? I was wondering why all of the cousins were invited to this house. Not because I am injured, but mom was announcing my wedding. Damn! Felix and Drazen knew that I would burst in anger if they stayed here. That's why they left. Let them come further. I would tell them what a living hell.
I took my phone off the bed and unsaved all of those posts. I don't even know why I saved those. What was with me back then? Maybe for wasting time when someone had a long day practice and used to leave me at home. But before unsaving, I again rotate my eyes over the trolls about Modric and Neymar. I still can't take all those as troll cause they look good together. If I put my selfishness aside, the corner of my heart wanted them together. But the selfishness told me- Modric deserves better.
I thought sometimes we should give priorities to the negative one when we don't know where our confusion is leading us. That was the reason if I were him, I would move myself aside a long time ago.
Otherwise, I am no one to talk about it. But a few years ago, it was a common topic between every footballer to talk about. I was one of them, too. Most of the footballers wanted Messi for Neymar. I wanted, too. Somehow, I thought Luka took the chance and invaded between them. But time went, and I realised something was there hidden. All the words floating in the social media were letting me feel something else. I was seeing through the gaps. All the credits were bowing down to Messi when I knew it was Modric who healed Neymar. That was the first suspicion of me for their matter. I never shared my opinion with anyone. Cause I can't face the question after saying all those. Why would I care?
Most of the Germen players had problems with Argentines since World Cup 2014. I took the thing as my reason. While the matter was burning all the social media, most of the Germen players were active on our WhatsApp group. They wanted Modric with Neymar. But I was the only one who never supported their opinion. I never wanted to be the one like Drazen. It is so true that I can not answer if someone asks why. It is far better to close the mouth than facing unnecessary drama.
I didn't find any updated information about Luka and Neymar. All vanished instantly with the picture of Neymar and Messi. And now it came back with the breaking news of their wedding. Something has finished. So, why do they keep trolling Luka?
Suddenly, I heard one knock from the door, which made me come back in reality.
In my life. I just heard about my wedding planning. Why on earth am I behind other's lives? "Yes?" "Young master, the master went downstairs for having a cup of coffee. He asked me to call you. He is waiting downsta-" "Tell your fucking master that I've shallowed poison. Wish me a better death. I am not going." "But young master-" "I said what I said. And Mr. Wilson if you don't listen to mine, I will do something serious to myself." "O-okay, Sir. Take rest."
He might leave. I don't care. I know what dad was going to tell me. I was so much frustrated about the things I did, I said. I was thinking about their steps after seeing my high temper. I just knew they would never listen to mine. But why would I go? To hear their plannings about that wonderful English-Spanish speaker? Mine one can speak four languages. Fuck them all.
I could not deny their choices. I just could not. I felt so pissed off, I felt so disgusting, I felt so much angry to myself. I don't want it to happen to me. I want to fly right to London with my private plane. But I wonder after how I behaved with Mr. Wilson my dad won't let me to even cut any tickets. I am a prisoner here. I feel so low and eventually feel so cry. I want to destroy the wedding. How can I face him after that? What can I say him about that? That I made a deal with my parents about my profession and personal life? And now you can go. No fucking way! I have to book a flight and go to London. Go to him.