New Romantics | Mbappé

La Petit Mort

Chaos. Voices. Flashlights. Cameras. An endless of maze of people she had to pass through, that seemed to get thinner with every step she’d take. Even when she was away from the journalists, the noise remained. Teammates following behind her, calling her name but she couldn’t stop for anyone. All she could hear clearly was the loud beating of her anxious heart that anytime now would probably fall of her chest. And then silence. A loud bang of the bathroom door closing and everything was shut out of the door. She cuddled herself on the floor, hugging her knees up to her chest and counting down the numbers she had learned from kindergarten.

MAGAZINE “MATCH” LONDON OFFICES – 1 MONTH LATER

Silence. Low sound of keyboards and chatter on the background. Taylor is sitting in one of the cubicle desks in main foyer. She has her head leaned on her hand, her face giving away her boredom as she read through one of the articles that were sent to her. She printed it and got up, she went to her Boss’s office, leaving the files on his desk.

“Already done?” he asked

“I’m a quick reader.”

“or a lazy one.”

“I don’t appreciate my work ethic being questioned like that.” She warned, cutting off his jokes before he could go any farther.

“right… thank you, you can go then.”

“Did you consider my request? About champions league?”

“I told you I have more experienced writer’s on that.”

“Did you even read my points?”

Her boss rolled his eyes “Ms. Wilock, why don’t you go back and finish your work instead of telling me how to do mine?”

She wanted to punch him. Knock his head on the desk and walk away with her head held high but instead she just left his office, cursing every curse word on the dictionary. As she sat back on her desk and opened her computer, she saw a post about the PSG game against Montpellier and Kylian’s injury that apparently was gonna keep him out of the game with Bayern. Her mind going back to the last time she saw all of them together.

1 MONTH EARLIER – PARC DE PRINCES

Kylian rushed to find her, he was stopped by Neymar before he could reach the bathroom door, pushed back by him. “Told you not to fuck with her!” he warned. Kylian slapped Neymar’s hand away and tried to move passed him. Ney stood in front of him, unbothered “Leave her alone!”

They’d continue fighting if it wasn’t for Taylor’s father walking by them to get to his daughter. Kylian slipped away from Neymar and followed Charlie. Marquinhos joining them shortly after.

“Taylor, it’s me! Open the door!” Said her dad knocking for her. There was no response.

“What the ‘ell happened?” Verratti came in, raising his hands. The second Kylian saw him, he felt like he lost any patience he was left with. He tried to attack him, jumping forward.

“Toi et ta ami!” he shouted, Marquinhos held him back. Standing between Verratti and Mbappe. The team was falling apart and all because of a vicious woman that wanted to make a name for herself in the cost of others.

“You’re blaming this on Verratti?” yelled Neymar, ready to grab Kylian by the arm but getting dragged away last minute by Messi. “He’s not the one that said those things about her on a microphone!”

“I didn’t know I was being recorded!” he defended himself.

Taylor’s father kept knocking, still no response, while the boys behind him were fighting like animals but he didn’t care about them, he didn’t care about whose fault it was, he just wanted to make sure that his daughter would be ok. The door opened just a tiny bit and he got inside, shutting it again. Kylian was gonna walk in as well if it wasn’t for Neymar standing in front of it. “Don’t you fucking dare!” The door flew open again, her father coming out worried.