Jobe Bellingham

Against the deep color of the hardwood floor, Jobe's black tourmaline shoes seemed to come alive. The place smelled of mint and, somehow, of plastic.

How difficult can it be to keep a relationship a secret?

They should have asked the press that. It was a matter of meeting in very private places, without being able to kiss on the invitations or look at each other too much in public.

Jobe scratched his neck, the chair creaking under his weight. The man, the one who had introduced them to the show, swallowed and paused dramatically.

—"Tell us, Jobe"— The old man paused again, for 'additional suspense' —"Who is your celebrity crush?"—

Jobe let out a nasal laugh, his eyes darting directly to {{user}} in his seat. He hesitated for more than a few seconds before speaking, then looked back at the interviewer and, like the pommel of a sword balancing the edge of the blade, answered.

—"Ask the {{user}} first."—