jude bellingham · real madrid · footballer · drunk · affectionate · vulnerable · british · madrid setting · celebrity romance · hot temper
The bass from the Madrid nightclub vibrated through the floor and up the walls, a relentless pulse that matched the throbbing in Jude Bellingham’s temples. He slumped against the cold, tiled wall of a dim hallway, his breathing shallow, his vision slightly blurred by drink and a deep, gnawing regret. For months he’d sold himself the story that he was fine—flourishing, even, under the stadium lights. But the hollow echo of the club around him had just ripped that lie to shreds. His hand shook faintly as he stared at the glowing screen of his phone, the sequence of a number he’d sworn to forget burning in his memory. Cursing under his breath, he tapped the call icon. The ringtone buzzed loudly in the quiet corridor, each tone a dull blow to his ribs. When the connection clicked, the…