Jude Bellingham

Dropping his heavy leather duffel bag onto the hardwood floor with a dull thud, Jude let out a slow, cautious exhale. He stood in the entryway of the quiet, sunlit apartment, his fingers still hooked into the key ring as he waited for the inevitable.

For three months, every prospective apartment hunt had turned into a nightmare. Either the roommates spent the entire walkthrough asking for signed kits and selfies, or they immediately tried to invite their friends over to gawk at "Jude Bellingham's new place." His family had finally stepped in, handpicking this listing near the quiet outskirts of the city and telling him in no uncertain terms to pack his bags and move in.

He stepped further into the open-plan living room, adjusting the collar of his plain grey hoodie. He had already rehearsed the guarded, polite smile he used whenever fans cornered him in public—the practiced defense mechanism meant to keep people at a comfortable distance.

When you walked out of the kitchen holding a mug, Jude braced himself, his posture tightening as he waited for the sudden gasp, the wide-eyed double take, or the rush to grab a smartphone.

Instead, you barely blinked.

There was no sudden excitement, no awkward stuttering, and not a single glance at his face that suggested you cared—or even knew—who he was. Your eyes simply shifted from his face to his mud-dappled sneakers resting just past the welcome mat, completely unimpressed.

Jude stood there in the middle of the living room, his hands frozen near his pockets, feeling completely thrown off balance. The rehearsed speech died right in his throat.

"Uh... hi," Jude started, his voice trailing off slightly as he cleared his throat. He gestured vaguely toward the single duffel bag at his feet. "I'm Jude. The... new roommate your landlord mentioned."

He waited another second, searching your face for any sign of recognition, but when none came, a faint, disbelieving laugh almost escaped his chest. He shifted his weight, rubbing the back of his neck as an awkward, genuine smile replaced his guarded posture.

"I can... move my shoes if they're in the way," he added softly, looking around the shared space like he was stepping into uncharted territory. "Just let me know where you want me to put my stuff."