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.
Now, it seemed she wouldn't see him at all anyways.
"Unless I mess up during the first team training there." Marcelle really was pushing it now, her voice was starting to crack for the fourth time today. "I'm sorry, I'm just so...upset," she choked out.
Laure scooted closer and wrapped and arm around Marcelle as tried to sniffle the tears away. "I know it hurts, mon amie, but before you know it, all of this is going to blow off, and you won't even notice it."
"Easy for you to say! You haven't experienced boyfriends who cheated on you twice!"
"Maybe I haven't, but I can guarantee that you're going to forget about this the same way you forgot about the first one," the older woman said softly, trying to calm down Marcelle and her hitched breathing. "Boys are stupid, and you shouldn't have to worry about one who hurt you."
She wanted to forget about Julian, trust me, she really did. Well...one part of her wanted to. But a whole chunk of her still didn't want to forget him.
Just when she thought that the she really had the gorgeous and talented Julian Draxler to herself, she actually didn't. Even through that, she can't bring herself to say it verbally. "I'll try," she said instead. Marcelle wasn't one to be this weak character with a sappy past, she always wanted t be a better person than she is right now. "If I did it the first time...maybe I can do it a second time."
"That's the spirit," Laure smiled, patting Marcelle gently on the back. She stood up from the couch and strode over towards the counter where her car keys laid. "Now, to begin the recovery process, shall we go out for late lunch?"
"Sure, but just as long as we get Indian food. Julian wasn't really fond of it."
//
jeudi 17:11
The men's team of Paris Saint-Germain were busy in the changing room of Camp des Loges as they ended their training for the day. Julian was sitting at the corner of the room, untying the laces of his cleats.
Today might as well be the most awkward and maybe the worst training session of his life. He, of course, failed to deliver what he could and that was all on him. His actions and the events of last night still had an everlasting effect on him.
Still, he can't seem get it out of his head.
But what seemed to make the situation even worse—everyone knew what he had done. The pictures were all over the internet for everyone to see him cheat on Marcelle with some girl he met at Ibiza.
Even the entire team knew. And if they didn't, someone was bound to tell them.
Everyone barely spoke to Julian during the entire two hours of training today. It was all the shock and disbelief that a guy as amazing and kind as he is can do such a thing. It didn't make sense to them—why would he have cheated on her if he was so in love with her? Not even Julian himself knew the answer to that.
But boy, he wished he did.
No one spoke to him. Not even Marco! One of the nicest guys on the team!
It's what Julian deserved for being such a douchebag because he was sure none of them would do such a thing, especially to a girl as amazing as Marcelle. And most of the guys on the team have met her on previous occasions, as if the situation couldn't get any worse.
"Have you seen a water bottle around here?" he asked Kurzawa, who just happened to be right next to him.
However, he only shook his head rather than giving Julian a proper answer. On the other side of him, Cavani, called his name and tossed him the water bottle.
"Thanks. You know—" The German stopped midway in his sentence, knowing that Cavani wasn't listening to him. He immediately zipped his mouth shut and went back to dressing back into his street clothes once he realized that no one would speak to him.
He understood what he did, and the damage it caused, but what else could he have done?
He can't just go back to Marcelle's place with a bouquet, takeout food, and a box of chocolates and expect her to forgive him just like that. Honestly, he just doesn't know what to do.
It was a cowardly thing to cheat, and he knew it. He just didn't think about the consequences that would follow.
Julian got dressed quite quickly, not wanting to be in the room if he was just going to be ignored. He left the facility, walking to his car.
On a normal, he would go home, take a shower and get ready to pick Marcelle up for a date. But today, guess the only thing he's going to do is cook dinner and watch television.
"Well," a voice said from behind him, "are you gonna talk to her?"
He turned around to find Kevin walking towards him, since their cars were right beside each other. Out of everyone in PSG, it's Kevin who decides to talk? And he doesn't sound happy in the first place.
"We already talked about it."
"No, not the moment she found out how much of an asshole you are." Wow, thanks Kevin. "Are you guys going to talk about your relationship?"
Julian shrugged. "I don't think she wants to talk to me, and I just don't know where to start...I think she's done with me."
Kevin sighed in irritation and crossed his arms. Since when did this concern him? "I see that you're happier when you're with Marcelle. Or if you talk about her, or anywhere near her, you're always in a good mood. Now, you don't have her—what are you going to do?"
"You're acting as if Marcelle controls my mood."
"Because she does!" he exclaimed. "Julian, why did you do it? You said you loved her, but you—"
"I don't know!" Julian hissed, opening the door of his car. He leaned against the side, resting his head on top of his arm. God...he felt like he was going to cry. "I don't know! Because I'm stupid!"
He hated talking about this so much, but
he knew that practically everyone was talking about it, he can't avoid it.
Kevin stood there, hands on his hips and boy, he looked disappointed in Julian. "You know, if you don't talk to her, you're going to lose her and the possibilities of getting back together."
"I know," he said. "I know."
"So you're going to talk to her?"
"I don't know."
Kevin groaned in frustration. "Julian! I can't always be your love expert when you need me. You need to know how to make your own decisions yourself."
"I know that," he defended himself, "but what am I going to do? How am I going to start?"
"That's for you to figure it out, my friend. But for now, if you don't do anything, you and Marcelle might as well be done."
//
vendredi 11:47
"Marcelle, what does it mean to win this match against Barcelona?"
She leaned up against the microphone, taking time to clear her voice. "Um, obviously it is a big win for us, especially in the Champions League. It's one more step towards the final, which we are aiming for."
It was the day of the first leg of the semi-final, and PSG Féminines had scored a good win against FC Barcelona Femení. Marcelle had scored in the twenty-sixth minute in their 3-1 win today, becoming an important part of the game as she fought to create space and opportunities.
Not long after the end of the match and ladies were in the locker room busy undressing, three players—Marcelle, Cristiane, and Sabrina Delannoy—had quickly dressed and went out for a post-match interview where a handful of reporters were waiting for them. It was Marcelle's first—hell, she didn't even remember.
She just sat there, listening to Cristiane respond to a question somewhere along the lines of did you think...blah, blah, blah.
"And you, Marcelle," she immediately sat up, "what did you think could have been improved as you look forward to the second leg in Paris?"
"Um—" She sighed. "I think that we can easily improve and increase the number of passing sequences and to stop chasing the ball."
"One more question," another reporter had asked right after, and Marcelle took a moment to find him at the back of the room. "Is there anything you can tell us about the situation between you and Julian Draxler?"
Are you serious? She mentally scoffed, not wanting to give an answer.
Sure, it was something everyone wanted to know, and maybe she could have calmed down the rumors if she said something. Her heart was still sore from everything she had endured these past days, and the last thing she wanted was to answer something like that.
"No comment," she said before getting up from her seat and walking out of the room.
a/n: just a friendly reminder to vote bc my motivation literal runs on votes and comments :)