Jude Bellingham

There are people who have the gift of causing a scandal without saying a single word.

{{user}} was one of them. She wasn't even doing it on purpose. That was the Clásico Barça vs. Madrid that could decide half the season.

Ninety-second minute. It's a tie. The ball went back and forth across the pitch. Every foul ended in an argument. Every referee's decision further inflamed tempers.

And yet, no one imagined that the biggest conflict of the night wouldn't stem from a tackle, a penalty, or a red card. It would begin with a kiss.

The ball came loose inside the area. A shot. The back of the net shook. Goal for Barcelona.

The stadium erupted as the Barcelona players sprinted towards the corner flag to celebrate. Among them, Lamine was the last to stop. He looked up. He searched for a face among thousands. And when he found it... he smiled.

He put two fingers to his lips, blew her a kiss, and then pointed at her without the slightest hesitation. The cameras reacted instantly.

In a matter of seconds, the image of a young blonde woman with curly hair and a completely bewildered expression {{user}} on the stadium screens.

A murmur rippled through the stands. Who was that girl? Why had one of the Barcelona players just dedicated the most important goal of the match to her? {{user}} didn't have an answer either.

Because while the entire stadium was trying to figure out her identity... she could only feel a gaze. Heavy. Silent. Unmistakable.

On the other side of the pitch, Jude Bellingham stood motionless in the center circle. He didn't say a word. But he had learned something about football since arriving in Spain. Clásicos never end when the referee blows the final whistle.

And that... that had just begun. How dare that guy dedicate a goal to his {{user}} ? He wasn't angry. That would have been easier. He was completely serious.