Teenage Fever | Jude Bellingham (Completed)

13.

𝑩𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒔𝒐𝒏
Brum boy or a Scouser?
𖣘ꨄ❤︎

I stared at the direct message Jude had sent me, my heart pounding in my chest as I tried to make sense of my emotions. It was hard to determine which part of all of this was the most shocking—the fact that he had found my Instagram, the fact that he had reached out to clear the air, or the fact that he had taken the initiative to like and comment on my posts.

Part of me wanted to believe his words, to take them at face value and allow myself to bask in the warmth of his attention. But another part of me hesitated, a nagging voice of doubt whispering in the back of my mind.

He said he didn't have a girlfriend, but could I really trust his words? Perhaps all of this was just a ploy to string me along, to keep me hooked until he grew bored and moved on to the next conquest. Maybe it was better for me to step away now, before I allowed myself to become too invested, too entangled in a web of false hope and broken promises.

After all, I had been barking up the wrong tree from the start. Jude was handsome and wealthy, a man who could have anyone he wanted at his beck and call. I had no illusions about my place in his world—I was just another face in the crowd, another name on a long list of conquests.

Single or taken, I knew Jude wasn't lonely. How could he be, when he was surrounded by adoring fans and eager admirers at every turn? No, I was just a fleeting distraction, a temporary diversion from the monotony of his charmed existence.

As I continued to stare at his message, a sense of resignation settled over me. Perhaps it was time for me to accept the truth and move on, to leave behind the fantasy of what could have been and focus on building a future for myself, one that didn't depend on the whims of a man who could never truly be mine.

With a heavy heart, I made the difficult decision to close the message and push Jude's words to the back of my mind. There's nothing I could say or want to say.

Trent's voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present moment. I glanced up at him, grateful for his easygoing demeanor and the sense of comfort that radiated from his presence.

"Where's your head at?" he asked, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. I realized that I must have appeared distant, lost in my own thoughts while we lounged in his flat.

"Sorry, long day," I replied, offering a simple explanation for my preoccupied state.

Trent nodded understandingly, his expression softening with empathy. "If you're tired, you can call it a night," he suggested, his tone gentle and reassuring.

I considered his offer for a moment, tempted by the idea of retreating to the solitude of my own space. But the thought of spending time with Trent, surrounded by his easygoing presence, was too appealing to pass up.

"Please, and miss out on hanging with you?" I joked, a playful smile taking over my face

His laughter filled the room, a warm and comforting sound that eased the tension lingering in the air. "I see, I see," he replied.

As the evening progressed, the sounds of laughter and conversation filled Trent's flat, creating a lively atmosphere that pulsed with energy. However, I found myself feeling increasingly overstimulated by the noise and commotion that came with it.