Football One Shots

Case Solved (Mathieu Debuchy)

before you read this, i'd like to say that i am a hue debuchy fangirl
so being the most socially awkward teenager ever
i decided to write a one shot about mathieu and i xP
don't judge
because i have some debuchy feels atm sorryyyy :3
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Megan was a mysterious enigma which the public had no slightest clue about her background and profile. They had no idea how she met Debuchy and started dating him after a week. They had no idea who she was, for fact.

Thus, resulting in a jungle of misunderstandings and unreasonable hate.

It was strange to see someone hold a secret for so long—especially when you're dating a footballer—and those surrounding the French right-back wanted to be informed clearly about this feminine and subtle conundrum. After all, once you're a celebrity, privacy evaporates into thin air. Everyone speculates your life, and you have to put up with that.

Indubitably, she wasn't a celebrity, and on the contrary, she was one of the normally basic civilians. She popped up because she had Mathieu Debuchy head over heels on her. She popped up with a physical outlook but without true definition.

Megan even looked like the perfect mystery—dark brown eyes that nearly showed no expression at all, raven black hair that bounced on her shoulders, and a very tall, straight posture. She usually hid herself with sunglasses, however occasionally, paparazzi caught her unhidden.

Mathieu always seemed delighted at her presence, and no doubt did he love her dearly. The very mention of her made his eyes shine bright, his lips curve ever so with pride. He loved talking endlessly about her and he couldn't be blamed—he was in love after all. It certainly looked sweet of him, yet Megan never did the same in public. As well as her being a nearly impossible riddle to solve, her facial expressions were a thin blank piece of paper. She showed nothing at all. She did have feelings, but her face refused to show them. Maybe it was for she was sick and tired of the rumors and scandals and whatnots. Free time, what more did she ask for?
Hardly ever did she smile, and the first time the media saw her smile was back at Newcastle, when Debuchy scored a goal against a rival team. That was ages ago, and ever since, she'd only let out an unamused smile show. There was no true mirth laying beneath it, all it expressed was her irk feeling against the reporters. They had stuck their noses in her business a bit too far.

To be fair, she should've understood the consequences of being a WAG. You are expected to always attend matches and interviews and meetings of such a sort. You are expected to be at least a bit pretty. You are expected to be tender and gentle and loving. These standards were high and they certainly were not fun. 

Now that she became famous, waking down the streets casually was harder than ever. When you live in London, amazingly enough, it's two sides are like polar opposites. Football-wise and money-wise. Megan lived in between the two sides—you probably get it from here. Fans of the Tottenham Hotspurs Football Club followed her every move and refused to let her be. They booed and threw things at her, and worse yet, they insulted her every chance they had.

And this time logically, Megan didn't like this. Her life was already more messed up than the Queen of England's daily routine, and that was never good to hear. Her face was on papers everywhere, titles ranging from ''Who is this Girl Mathieu Debuchy loves?' to 'Laurent Koscielny in Love Triangle with Mathieu Debuchy and D's Girlfriend?'. It was as if everything became a muddled up puzzle, and all she could do was attempt to ignore it.

At least her's and Mathieu's apartment gave her a bit of freedom. She could state anything she wanted without getting some microphones slammed into her face. That was relieving.

"Finally," she breathed out as she escaped the mob of followers she had. "Home at last."

Her footballer boyfriend looked up at her humorously. "My god, Megan, you have more fans than I do myself," he smiled slightly, chuckling, "and for a matter of fact, my hair kills women."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Megan as she took off her coat, "Be careful about what you wish for, it may come true Debuchy. This fame is exhausting me. Do you know how many daft threats I received from fangirls today? Three! Three mad threats, and speaking of the content, it is unbelievably horrendous. Look, I'll show you this merde."

Then she pulled out three very miniature envelopes from her handbag, all addressed to her in dark azure ink. Opening an one at random, she took out the letters and slowly read as Mathieu observantly watched:

"To whoever it may concern, or Madame Megan,

Bonjour. I have been informed that you are dating Debuchy. What can I say, really? He is mine, and there is not anyone to stop me from my path. He deserves better than a little girl from Asia. I, truthfully, am the best canidate for your position that you are not fairly entitled to. So let this be a warning—back off. Or else your life wll become a tragic catastrophe.

                                All the worst, Blaine Veradano. "

"Ouch." He remarked, biting his lip. "A little girl from Asia?" Megan nodded, then replied, "I'm pretty sure this 'Blaine Verdano' is no more than fifteen. Simply horrific." Mathieu never came to realize his fangirls were that obsessive oh him. No way did he enjoy this—assuredly not. His score of indulgence at the moment was a big fat colossal zero. Her unsatisfying pervor was his as well. "Well...did anything else happen? There isn't an issue bothering you, is there?"

"All I really want is some relaxation. You and me, no TV talk shows, no press conferences, no hot breaking cover news. A vacation, perhaps? I don't know. Just far away from the camera, and I'll be more than delighted."

It did look like she needed one. Her eyes surrounded by dark circles, her skin paler than ever. A break would prove essential at the very moment, Mathieu would need one as well. After tiring matches against teams, he was drained. If he asked for a week-long vacation, Calum Chambers could step up to the position or Hector Bellerin could. AW had a handful of choices and Mathieu gone for a while wasn't much of a problem.

"I'll make sure that happens." he replied. "You and I, trip to Marseille, oui?"

She finally let out a small smile. "Yes."
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The couple strolled the streets of Marseille, visiting tourist attractions such as the Notre-Dame de la Garde and La Joliette. When they were younger as students, they loved visiting these places for a nice little chat. The two were the best of friends then, simply unseperable.

They also went around to pass out charities for the poor; this was what Megan liked to do on vacation. Meaningful, but she didn't bluff about it crazily. All she wanted was to turn frowns upside down—shs was a very caring person.

The cameras flicked as the two walked around unknowingly aware that they were getting photographed for yet another newspaper. A few reporters got impatient and in an instant jumped in Mathieu's and Megan's path.

"Megan, can you tell us what is it with you and Debuchy?"

They've been dating for a few months...

"Megan, we hear that you've been reported for theft once?"

Um.....was Mathieu Debuchy dating a thief and criminal? She didn't really look like one...

"Megan, we hear that you're Sir Alex Ferguson's secret daughter in his year long affair decades ago?"

What? Megan being Fergie's daughter? I mean, I do understand Fergie having a bad temper, but logically I don't think that Sir Alex Ferguson would let his daughter date an Arsenal player, let alone Sir Alex having a secret and hidden daughter.

She stopped and tugged on Mathieu's arm, stopping him as well. "Excuse me?"

The reporter yet again took no notice of annoyed tone and continued on. "I—"

Mathieu put his hand on the male reporters mouth, disallowing him to carry on what he was said. "Mate, I am most certainly not Mathieu Debuchy and she is definately not this Megan you're looking for."

Reporters swarming him started scratching their head, deep in thought. "Oh....really? I'm sorry for bothering you."

"Yes, and if you don't mind, we'll be leaving."

He waved a quick and unwanted good-bye and grabbed Megan's arm, running away from the crowd until they got to a small alley. Despite the fact that he was a footballer, after running a mile or so he started panting heavily.

"Well...I know now that escaping from paparazzi in Marseille is way easier than in London. They are so naïve!" she laughed.

"I know right! Who doesn't recognize this work of art?" answered Mathieu, pointing to his hair.

"I might not!" she teased in return. By now, she was laughing so hard, she tripped falling into Mathieu. Luckily, he raised his arms out and caught her.

"Wow....awkward." Megan shot a goofy grin, still giggling.

He smiled in return. "Is my hair so amusing to you?"

"I think so," she played along, "your hair is very alluring I must say."

"Merci, Megan, merci. Je—"

And out of nowhere, the reporters from before leap into the alley, looking as if they popped straight from a Marvel comic. They stood boldly, confronting the two. "I knew you were lying!" a brunette woman, about twenty seven, said.

The footballer's girlfriend crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "And so what if we lied? What are you doing her inspecting my life?"

"Rumors. I do this for a living, you know." the blond answered bluntly, staring at the black-haired woman before her bored. "If you want me to leave, I'm going to need an interview."

Before Megan could answer, Mathieu pushed her aside and said, "An interview and you'll leave, right? Fine. I agree."

The reporter smirked. "Right, I work for the Marseille Gossip magazine. I'm Lucille Dolores." She twirled her curly brown hair and batted her eyelashes at him.

"Yeah, yeah, let's get this over with." He had no interest in this and the only reason he agreed to do it was to leave Megan in peace.

Lucille was highly offended. She thought she had the charm to captivate any footballer, no footballer rejects her. "Anyways, why the hell did you fall in love with this ugly Asian, Mathieu? May you tell us why this horrifying beauty be your girlfriend?"

"I'm sorry," he calmly said, "your ideal of beauty is different than mine. My girlfriend is evidently better than you both physically and mentally. She's as exquisite as a purple rose, intelligent, funny, and she doesn't blab merde like you."

"Take that back, you—"

"You insulting bastard? Yeah, but I speak truth. I know it's not true to you, though it is to me."

Lucille flipped her hair back, 'hmphing' at the same time. "Now, we don't want to get on each other's bad side, do we? I'm going to ask you another question: How did you meet this monster?"

"Again," Mathieu clenched his fist, "she is not a monster, nor ugly, nor terrible. I think you're describing yourself. Though I will answer your question. We met here fifteen years ago in school. Meg—"

"Okay, that's it!" Lucille slammed her hands together. She was sick of hearing Megan this, Megan that from a guy she liked. "Can you shut up?"

"Well...." Mathieu trailed on, "You were the one that wanted me to do the interview, so I'll continue."

Lucille looked at him in grim horror, screaming out frantically "NOOOO!!! I WILL NOT DO THIS!!"

"You have to," he shrugged, "it was part of the deal."

He had a plan forming in his head, a brilliant idea that would end all of Megan's problems instantly. And he needed Lucille to participate in it.

"What can I do to retreat? I'm not doing it, I tell you."

"I figured, Dolores. All I need you to do is this..." he whispered into the blonde's ear.
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The cold air filled up London's atmosphere and snow started falling. It had been a week since their visit to Marseille, yet Megan was still clueless about what Mathieu had told Lucille. He said that it was a secret and she'd certainly know soon one way or another.

"Well, I still don't.." Megan chuckled. At the very least Mathieu wasn't cheating on her, for sure. And for the past few days, the reporters had lessened. It had been the most peaceful week in London she had since moving there.

The people have been less annoying to her, too. As she bought her cup of coffee and sipped on it, two people walked by her and wished her a good day. That was weird, before only rare times did they do that. And she felt really happy for that.

Then, a teenage girl, no more than thirteen, holding a paper and pen approached the black-haired woman. The girl walked towards Megan shyly, as if she was going to ask something. "Um, excuse me Miss, can I have a picture and an autograph?"

Megan was extremely surprised. She had never won the hearts of Gooners, not to mention any one in London. They always stood clear of her, and the 'fleas' (also known as the reporters) were the only people besides Mathieu who went close to her, but all they did were scandal-hunting. Truthfully, Mathieu was the only company she had in London, the only person who'd talk to her like any other—though here stood a teenager nicely asking for a photo, instead of stealing one like anyone else did.

"Yeah....sure." Megan took out the pen and paper and signed it. "If you do not mind, may I ask why you're asking for my autograph and a picture with me? It's no bother to me, but I am curious."

The girl replied quickly, "Well, you are my new idol! I love what you do and I want to be just like you when I grow up!"

"You mean become a WAG?" asked Megan. "It's really tough, kiddo."
s
"No! I mean, you are so pretty and kind and you do all of those charitable activities in secret." she paused. "All of the other celebrities just do it for the fame."

Megan raised an eyebrow; how could a thirteen year old possibly know about this? "Who told you that?"

"It's been plastered on the news everywhere! You are such a role model for children!"

Okay...this was different. Most kids had always told her she was a massacre or something similar. "Can I borrow the newspaper you read it in?"

"Sure," and the teen fished a newspaper from her bag. Megan took it and scanned through it slowly.

      This is the Real Megan
                    By Anonymous.
Mathieu Debuchy, French all-star's girlfriend, Megan has been hiding us the real her for so long. When she showed up in London, she showed a cold, isolating face and personality towards the public. She still does, but from what we have seen in Marseille, and from the most reliable sources, Megan likes to cheer people up, likes to joke around people. It seems the lenses have bothered her, though we know now Megan isn't  that bad of a person. She attends charities and even orphanages despite the undeserved hate.

People of London, we request that all of us apologize. We have been single-handedly stupid. 
                                      
At the bottom of the article had a picture of her smiling in the alley. It's caption was: We were wrong. Wrong about everything, even her smile. It's 100% real.

"Woah...I'm speechless." said Megan. No one has done such a good thing for her, excluding her close ones. It was a feeling of bewilderment but infinite happiness—she smiled in public once again.

The little girl squealed. "Ma'am, your smile is really pretty!"

"You sure bet it is," a familiar hand was put on her shoulder, "Megan got the fairness she deserved."

She turned around, facing the person behind her—Mathieu Debuchy.

"Mr. Debuchy!"

"Yes," he grinned.

"Mathieu...did you do all of this? Did you tell that Dolores to write this article?"

"Yes again, and now you have what's rightfully your's!" he pointed to the girl. "These little girls are going to follow your footsteps to become an amazing woman you are."

"I can't believe you did this..." she put her palms on her mouth. "Thank you."

"What's to say thank you for? The media's what should say thank you to me, I cracked the world's best mystery."

"You knew all along anyways, Sherlock Holmes....but still, thank you."

"Now," he continued, "you promise to be a bit more open to others?"

"I can't promise," she shook her head, "though I'll try."

And folks, from that day on, everyone literally worshipped Megan.

She made new WAG friends at Arsenal, and she came to be a popular one in a good way—she went to interviews, helped the less fortunate, and even became a nonpareil symbol in popular culture.

And though the cameras were still following her, they were following her not for scandals anymore.

And this time, she let the cameras flick behind her, because she kne w there were no more misunderstandings anymore. She could express her feelings and be couple-y to Mathieu.

She had fit in perfectly in London, her new home, and she enjoyed herself more than ever, knowing that everyone here liked her now.

Case solved.
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ja. very cheesy. i got inspiration from a british documentary >.< 

and please don't mind ths fluff--i'm kinda obsessed with mathieu debuchy.

btw, wattpad's being a female dog rn so i'd like to tell you my new username is @cabaye and not @meganisreallyawesome anymore :D

and also, i need to ask you all a question: I want to keep this Arsenal-only, but a few people have requested I do other players, such as idk Erik Durm or Marco Reus. I haven't pondered on that much, though would you guys want me to do so? It's up to you guys honestly ^—^
—Megan