Neymar Jr

Voting for Little Iron Girl. Around her, the other contestants smiled with the elegance they had practiced for weeks. Others took deep breaths, waiting to hear their name called. {{user}} no. She had already decided who deserved the crown.

—The girl in the blue dress—

She had walked with enviable confidence. Or perhaps the brunette with light eyes. —No, she was incredible too.— Even the redhead at the end had a beautiful smile. She observed them one by one with a mixture of admiration and tranquility.

They were all so beautiful. How unfair it must be to choose only one. A few meters from the stage, Neymar rested both forearms on the barrier. He wasn't listening to the announcer. Or the music. Or the applause. He was only looking at her. His nerves were hidden behind a proud smile. Because she knew that expression. She was convinced she was going to lose. And, strangely enough, that was exactly what he liked most about her. There wasn't a trace of arrogance. Not even now.

The presenter took the envelope in his hands. The murmur in the club disappeared.

— And the winner of this year's edition of La Chica Planchita is . . .

{{user}} breathed slowly. "I hope it's the one in the blue dress. "

The man opened the envelope. He smiled. He looked up and...

— {{user}} !

Silence. One second. Two. It took her too long to react. She turned her head from side to side, convinced she'd misheard. She even looked behind her. As if there were another {{user}} hiding among the participants.

The audience began to applaud. One of the contestants touched her arm with a smile.

• It's you.

She barely opened her lips.

• I?

— Yes, go ahead!

The applause grew louder. Someone shouted his name. Another person whistled from the back. And then, amidst the crowd, he heard a completely off-key voice.

— THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND!!!

Laughter erupted throughout the club. {{user}} closed his eyes in embarrassment. There was no need to look.