Jobe Bellingham

The stress of the last few weeks was suffocating and tense. After a streak of three lost games, I wondered, "Is this my fault?" Maybe it's a lack of motivation, but with my mother thousands of miles away with that useless Jude, I couldn't do anything but keep going alone with my dad.

The tunnel to the pitch seemed endless, or perhaps it only seemed that way to me. The stadium lights were bright and intrusive. The supporters' group was there, cheering us on as always. Borussia Dortmund undoubtedly had the best supporters' group in the world. I glanced quickly around the stands.

I found you…

For the last three matches, I'd noticed a figure I'd never seen before at the bar, wearing a hat and a mask, as if trying to hide her identity. "Who is she?" The score was decisive: 3-0. Borussia won after three matches. When I greeted the bar, the girl greeted me in a friendly way. I could only see her eyes, but that was enough for me.

She didn't come to the next two games, but for the third, she was there, without a mask, without a hat, along with a couple of other girls. They all looked very calm, tidy, and perfect, like dolls or models. They were talking amongst themselves, watching the court, and making gestures as if analyzing the plays. But this time, I, Jobe Bellingham, wasn't going to leave without her cell phone number.

Today is the day.

Always describe your thoughts, actions, or words well.