Media | Marc André Ter Stegen

Stay

         "So you're staying here in Barcelona?" Marc asks.
I told him about me only being here a few days while we go for a walk during his FIFA after party.
        "Just for another week, tops. I'm here with Morgan and I have my job back in California..."
         "What if you found a job here?" He asks.
         "I mean... it's a lot to consider," I shrug.
        "Could you..." he stops our walk to lean in close to me, "be persuaded?"
          I wrap my arms behind his neck and smile, "Perhaps."
I stand up on my tip toes and gently kiss his lips.
He pulls my hips closer to his body in a more passionate kiss. I run a hand through his hair, letting our embrace grow deeper.
I feel alive in this moment and my heart rate flies through the roof.
I've never felt like this before.
"Lauren," Marc whispers, his voice husky.
His lips are so close to mine, I feel his breath as he speaks.
"Stay in Spain," he says.
I look into his blue eyes and they gaze into mine so intensely my face flushes even more. If that's possible. Something in my heart is telling me to stay. What would I lose anyways?
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah. I'll stay," I smile.
He lifts me off the ground in a huge hug and spins me in circles while I shriek.

I'm the last one at Marc's house after the tournament. We've been talking for hours about our family and jobs and lives. He is the sweetest, kindest, funniest guy I've ever met. He's perfect for me. He seems too good to be true.
        "So your mom flushed your homework?" Marc asks through laughs.
        "Yes!" I exclaim, "and my teacher did not believe me so my mom had to some into school and vouch for me!"
         "Unbelievable! My mom would have made me rewrite the paper on the way to school," he says.
           "Tough love," I shrug. "My mom was always loose on the reigns when raising me. Especially after-" I cut myself off with a gasp.
I almost mentioned Chris.
I haven't mentioned Chris in months. Years. Since last Christmas at least.
         Marc looks concerned, "After what?"
        I shift in my seat and look away from him, "Nothing."
            "Lauren," he places his big goalie hand over mine. "You can tell me."
Looking back up into his blue eyes, I see nothing but compassion.
I feel an overwhelming sense to spill everything to him. Without fear of judgment.
          "My brother... he is- he was a soccer player. Footballer, sorry. He just got signed to a little club in our hometown.  I'd never seen Chris so happy. I'd never seen anyone so happy. He drove  back to our house from his apartment to tell us the news. But I... I wasn't home. I was out with Morgan-" a sob catches in my throat.
Marc pulls me into his arms and I do my best to hold in my cries.
         "He was on his way to find me and tell me. And... a semi pushed him off the road and into a tree. He died on impact."
The tears steam down my face and I grip Marc with all my strength. As if he's enough to save me from this misery.
         "I'm so sorry," he murmurs, stroking my hair.
          "Everyone says it's not my fault. But I can't help feeling like it is," I admit.
I wipe my tears and Marc let's me stay in his arms for a few more minutes.
         "He got me into football. And he encouraged me to take pictures. He always believed in me."
         "He sounds like an amazing brother," Marc comments.
          "He was."