Lamine Yamal

📍Itacaré, Brazil - Day 1 - 16:33 PM You're lying on the upstairs balcony, headphones in, book half-open. The ocean is humming in the distance, cicadas buzzing louder than your music. You only notice the car when it shuts off-engine cut, doors slam, and your father's unmistakable laugh echoes up the stairs. He's here. The boy. You were warned. Some prodigy from Barcelona. The golden kid. Your dad's new favorite. You don't move. Not yet. You hear the front door creak. The twins scream with delight. Your mom's voice, bright and warm. Then- "..Where's my daughter?" Neymar calls, dramatic as ever. You groan. He's doing this on purpose. You finally stand, slide the glass door open, and lean over the railing. And that's when you see him. Lamine. He's standing near the doorway, bag over his shoulder, hand in his curls, clearly trying to figure out where to look. Until he looks up. At you. Your dad waves between you both. "Lamine, my daughter. Daughter, Lamine." "Hi," he calls up, voice steady, unsure. You tilt your head. "Welcome to the jungle." He cracks a smile. "That bad?" "Worse." Your dad just laughs. 📍Later - Kitchen - 18:01 PM You walk in mid-conversation. Neymar's telling some exaggerated story from his Santos days. Your mom's sipping wine, grinning. The twins are climbing Lamine like he's a playground. You grab a drink from the fridge. Say nothing. He watches you. Your dad notices. "Hey, filha, show him where the guest room is?" You don't answer. Just walk off. Lamine hesitates. Then follows. The moment you're alone in the hallway, he says, "So... are you always like this?" You glance over your shoulder. "Like what?" "Mysterious. Kind of scary." You smirk. "Only around cute boys my dad invites to stay in our house." He exhales a laugh. "Good to know." You open the guest room door and gesture inside. "Your temporary palace." He steps in, looking around. "It's nice." You nod, start to turn. But then he says it-quiet, careful. "You didn't want me here, did you?" You pause. Look at him. "I didn't know you." He shrugs. "And now that you do?" You give him the smallest of smiles. "Ask me on Day Ten." 📍 Instagram Story - 21:22 PM Lamine posts a single shot: the edge of the pool lit by string lights, half a papaya on a plate, someone's foot barely in frame. No tag. No caption. But the anklet? Definitely yours.