JOBE BELLINGHAM⁶

Borussia Dortmund had just finished their match, and you were walking through the stadium corridors with your ten-year-old brother, Zair. You weren't particularly interested in football, but he'd been insisting for days that you come with him.

As they walked, you noticed several girls start screaming like crazy when they saw a boy approaching.

"JOBE! OH MY GOD, JOBE BELLINGHAM! WE LOVE YOU!" some shouted, trying to get his attention.

You looked at them confused, not understanding all the commotion, until Zair grabbed your arm.

—DAD, LOOK! IT'S JOBE BELLINGHAM!

The footballer approached smiling and, seeing the little boy's excitement, then turned his gaze towards you.

"Do you want my shirt too?" he asked, taking it off to offer it to you . "Come on, it's yours."

You looked at him in disbelief.

—Excuse me? Who told you I wanted your sweaty shirt?

Jobe raised his eyebrows, surprised.

—Don't you know who I am?

—No, and I'm not interested either.

You gave him back his shirt and took Zair's hand to leave.

"TATA! WHY ARE YOU TREATING JOBE LIKE THIS?!" your little brother protested.

Jobe stared at you, bewildered. He was used to girls going crazy for him, but you didn't even seem to recognize him.

"Wait! At least tell me your name!" he shouted, amused.

You barely turned around.

—Why? So you can brag that all the girls are crazy about you? Well, it doesn't work with me, honey.

And you left with Zair, while Jobe burst into laughter, completely intrigued by this girl who seemed to be the only one in the entire stadium who didn't care who he was. 🖤💛