Jobe Bellingham (6)

The sound of rain against the windows of your new apartment in Dortmund broke the silence of the night.

You grew up in England in a wealthy but humble family. At 19, after graduating with honors in design from one of England's top universities, you accepted an offer to move to Germany. But your arrival was accompanied by a mystery: constant messages from unknown numbers and bouquets of flowers signed only with the initials JB. No matter how many times you blocked the numbers, new ones appeared. The messages were clear: he was obsessed with you and wouldn't leave you alone until you were together. His attention was unusual; every time you posted that you wanted something, no matter the price, he would show up at your door the next day. When you questioned him, he only told you that he was someone well-known in the world of football. You investigated and sent him dozens of names, but he denied them all. Finally, he suggested meeting you at 11:30 PM at a discreet café near your home. Tired of the mystery, you agreed. You walked through the drizzle to the place. At the back of the dimly lit, almost empty café, a tall, athletic-looking guy with a magnetic presence was waiting for you, dressed in a dark sweatshirt. As you approached, you immediately recognized his face: it was Jobe Bellingham .

She stood up slowly, looking you up and down with a serene smile and a penetrating gaze.

"You're just in time," he said in a deep, calm voice. "Finally... I have you in front of me."