stuck on you || draxler

vingt-quatre

jeudi 14:03

Vaugrenard and Draxler Split? Caught Cheating in Ibiza

Football power couple Marcelle Vaugrenard, 21, of Paris Saint-Germain Féminines and Julian Draxler, 23, of Paris Saint-Germain seem to have split, sources say.

Just a few days ago, Draxler was caught kissing another woman who was not Vaugrenard during his trip in Ibiza. This came off as a shocker to many as people saw the two very close with each other just before his departure.

Vaugrenard and Draxler have been previously linked and spotted together since January of this year. They confirmed their relationship earlier this month.

Representatives of Draxler or Vaugrenard have not yet elaborated on the situation but some speculate—

"Don't read that," Laure said as she took the phone out of Marcelle's hands and tossed it towards the smaller couch.

She felt horrible.

Not even twenty-four hours after the confrontation, somehow, she still found a way to make it to training and try to play. Though today was definitely not her best day, she tried.

Everyone knew about the situation. The whole PSG Féminines team knew, and there was a good chamce the men's team knew as well.

She hated it. She hated when people felt pity for her. It made her feel weak, and it took three years to tell herself that she indeed was not weak and that she was, instead, stronger than who she used to be.

But she's bounced back into someone she used to be—scared and vulnerable.

Marcelle didn't want to stay home by herself. She was scared of what she was capable of doing to herself, so she opted to go over to Laure's place even though she needed to take the metro.

As long as it didn't have Julian in it, she could go to.

"Don't think about it," Laure said in an attempt to help the young Frenchwoman. "I know it sounds shitty, but trust me, there are other things you want to think about than some stupid guy."

"Like how I did badly at practice today?" Marcelle buried her head into a pillow, frustrated. She really wanted to play like nothing had happened the night before, but everything just reminded her of Julian.

She didn't want to think about Julian. She didn't want to think about the pictures though it's like they've become permanently embedded into her head.

Playing football itself reminded her of Julian because it was the one reason why she had liked him. Not because he was exceptionally good at it, and not because she was either, but because of football, it found a way to bring them closer than ever.

The poor girl had trouble focusing today during training—making bad runs, not looking up when she's passing, and just not taking the shot. It was concerning, truly, to everyone because this wasn't the Marcelle Vaugrenard everyone knew.

"God," she sighed into the pillow, sitting up and then slumping back on the couch, "I'm probably not going to even be a starter tomorrow because I did so shitty today."

"Don't say that," Laure said in an attempt to comfort her, sitting down right next to the distraught Frenchwoman. "You're gonna get to play, trust me. There's no way Patrice is not going to let you play. Especially when it's Champions League."

The team was to leave tomorrow for Barcelona for the first leg of the Women's Champions League semi-final. Marcelle remembered asking Julian if he was able to watch her play in Barcelona for the first leg, but he told her that he had a Ligue match that same day, but he'd make it to the second leg.