Aunt, Why Is It Bad?

### Chapter 19: Aunt, Why Is It Bad?

The distance between Aveiro and Porto is less than 80 kilometers, and the bus ride only takes about an hour.

Quaresma sat next to Pepe on the team bus returning to Porto.

"Thank you, brother!" Quaresma said to Pepe with emotion.

Pepe looked at Quaresma indifferently, as if he had done nothing.

"Why the fuss? Don't act like a woman! And that bastard really deserved it!"

Pepe's demeanor showed he was used to standing up for others. To him, this was just a trivial matter, not worth taking seriously.

Quaresma nodded subtly, vowing to remember Pepe's loyalty.

At this time, Meireles, sitting in front of them, smiled and approached Quaresma. "You were the best player in the game. Aren't you going to invite us to celebrate at the nightclub?"

Yes, because of his stunning performance with a goal and an assist, Quaresma was named the best player of the Portuguese Super Cup.

But Quaresma was puzzled. Why celebrate at a nightclub for being the best player?

He was about to refuse firmly, but he noticed the hungry looks from his teammates. The pressure almost made Quaresma panic.

Feeling cornered, Quaresma reluctantly agreed.

After all, this wasn't entirely unacceptable. He had never been to a nightclub before.

It's said that those magical places are full of scantily-clad young ladies...

And, he had to thank Pepe!

So, Quaresma hesitated but finally nodded.

Because Del Neri was sitting in front, Postiga could only whisper to finalize the list of nightclub attendees—Postiga, Pepe, Bosingwa, Diego, Meireles, Valent, and Fabiano...

Fabiano didn't intend to go. His original plan was to go home, but Meireles dragged him along, making him look extremely aggrieved.

The bus arrived at the team's base, and everyone disbanded on the spot. When Del Neri left, several players shouted, feeling completely liberated.

"Let's go to the jazz bar. I haven't been there in a long time. I miss the intoxicating atmosphere!" Valent said, showing an uncontrollable urge, seemingly intoxicated by his own imagination.

Quaresma, not understanding, was about to respond when he noticed the disdainful attitude of the others around him.

"Don't go! The jazz bar is full of old ladies, and the youngest ones are still old! That's not our taste!" Bosingwa retorted gruffly.

The others ignored Valent and debated, while Valent grumbled aside, "What's wrong with older women?"

Quaresma looked at Valent in astonishment, shocked by his peculiar taste.

"Let's go to the club. There are lots of young girls there! Super hot!" Bosingwa, an experienced nightclub goer, suggested without hesitation, and his tone brooked no argument.

Thinking about the scenes in the club, the others couldn't help but get excited.

Only Quaresma was easygoing; he didn't mind since he had never been there before.

Wanting to fit in, Quaresma wished he could ask someone for advice on how to pretend to be a nightclub veteran.

Exaggerating, many players spent more time in clubs than on the field.

If they found out he had never been to a nightclub, they would mock him endlessly.

The club wasn't far, but they couldn't walk there. They didn't want paparazzi catching them on the street. If news of Porto players at a bar made headlines, Del Neri would kill them.

Being careful, a few teammates who lived nearby quickly fetched their cars, and everyone drove to the bar they all respected.

Quaresma entered the nightclub with the others. The dim lights, blasting music, and scantily clad women were slightly different from his imagination, but there were plenty of young ladies.

He had made the right choice.

Sitting in the booth, sipping a low-alcohol cocktail, and occasionally moving to the music, the atmosphere was electric.

But this wasn't everyone's main goal—it was just the appetizer.

Once the atmosphere was set, they could start flirting with the girls!

"Wow! That figure is amazing. Don't try to take her from me!" Postiga exclaimed.

Soon, Postiga, who had found his target, successfully chatted up a young lady and brought her back to show off.

Since someone had set an example, there was no need to be cautious. The others started their own pursuits.

Although Quaresma was a bit nervous, he forced himself to stay calm to appear experienced and went to talk to a girl.

"Hi, beautiful! Your skirt is so lovely." He targeted a girl whose back made him want to commit a crime.

"Thank you, I think my skirt is beautiful too." The beautiful back turned around, and Quaresma was horrified. "But I'm sorry, I'm a man."

Quaresma was dumbfounded. He couldn't believe he had encountered a cross-dresser.

Excuse me, how do you have the courage to go out like this?

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Quaresma backed away, terrified.

At that moment, a girl nearby saw Quaresma's embarrassed look and suddenly smiled. Her red lips and long eyelashes were captivating, and her eyes seemed to sparkle.

If it were any other time, Quaresma might have been enchanted, but still shaken from his previous scare, he remained cautious.

Was this girl another cross-dresser?

Evidence pointed to yes. Her white neck was adorned with a black ribbon, a small ornament that looked pretty, but Quaresma suspected it was meant to hide an Adam's apple!

Just as Quaresma was preparing to tactically retreat, the girl extended her hand, inviting him to dance. Crowded on the dance floor, the girl lost her balance and fell into Quaresma's arms.

His fears vanished instantly as he felt the softness of the girl's chest.

.....