Living together for six months: Marc Terenzi and Priscilla DiLaura live in Palma

Living together for six months: Marc Terenzi and Priscilla DiLaura live in Palma

At first glance the couple doesn't fit a gossip column: him, the musician with an international career, her, the young chess player from southern Germany. On a second look everything makes sense — when you wander through Palma's alleys, hear the sea at Portixol and see how everyday life settles here. For more than half a year now, Marc Terenzi and Priscilla DiLaura have shared an apartment near Palma's old town.

Moving in together doesn't feel like a PR stunt. Visitors say it's rather a quiet affair: shopping at the Mercat de l’Olivar, pasta in the small kitchen in the evenings, sometimes a walk along the Paseo Marítimo on weekends. Passing the Plaça Major you hear the clatter of plates and murmurs from cafés — a perfectly normal island rhythm that the couple seems to fit into seamlessly.

Priscilla is 27 and has been on the island since early 2025. In addition to working in real estate, she pursues a serious chess career: she trains around twenty hours a week, travels to tournaments and runs a channel on a well-known chess platform where she trains and explains games. She recently played in the Grenke Chess Open in Karlsruhe — a tournament that is a test for many professionals.

Marc, 47, has built a new foothold on Mallorca alongside his past as a singer: an ice cream shop with two locations, including in Portixol and on the Paseo Marítimo. He is sometimes seen behind the counter himself — part of life here: celebrities who don't just appear in photos but work locally and chat with neighbors. Others have also changed homes on the island, as in Marcel Remus moves to Son Vida.

The couple's everyday life sounds surprisingly down-to-earth. Instead of nightly excesses, chess lessons, cooking together, video games and poker nights are part of their routines. Priscilla abstains from alcohol, which apparently fits well with Marc's new life plan: in recent years he has left behind a period of personal problems and today calls the steps toward stability significant turning points.

This also affects the island community. When well-known faces seek calm instead of the spotlight, it changes the mood: conversations more often turn to local matters — who has the best beans for coffee, which fish market is fresher, or when the next training session at the club will be. That's good for Palma because it contributes to togetherness and revitalizes local businesses.

For Priscilla, living in Palma means a double momentum: she can expand her chess training while reaching an audience interested in the game. Her streams and training sessions bring new viewers to local clubs and build bridges to schools and youth projects that offer chess courses. For Marc the island is a place where work and family find a firm footing — he is a father of four and is building a calmer foundation here.

They are occasionally seen together at events — at restaurateurs' birthday parties or small premieres — but the appearances feel like a footnote, not the main thing. Instead, everyday scenes fill their days: an espresso at the Gato; the honk of a taxi on Passeig del Born; the laughter of children chasing pigeons at the harbor. Small island moments that show how celebrity and local life can coexist.

In conversations with acquaintances both emphasize that respecting personal space is important; that they allow each other professional goals and quiet times. This attitude isn't spectacular, but solid — and a pleasant alternative in Mallorca to the stories that often circulate. Such stories include Separation on the Island: Collien and Christian.

Outlook: Those who live on Mallorca know the seasonal cycles — and know that things get louder in summer. A couple that creates a home together in the low season while supporting local businesses leaves marks that go beyond selfies. For the island it's a small but noticeable sign: celebrity can also mean taking responsibility — for work, family and neighborhood.

In short: Not a spotlight romance, but an everyday life between chessboards, ice cream cones and Palma street sounds. And it feels, on an afternoon on the island, surprisingly normal.