Obsessed | Jude Bellingham

30.

Bianca Dawson
Only girl in the world
•••

Rihanna had the right idea when she made her song "Only Girl (In the World)." My AirPods blasted the song as I zoned out, the lyrics connecting on a whole other level. The beat pulsed through my veins, each word resonating with my thoughts. It wasn't just music; it was a message that reflected my own feelings. I just wanted to be the only girl in his world, the center of his universe.

As I lay in my room, staring at the ceiling, the song played on.

"Want you to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world," Rihanna sang, and I knew exactly what she meant. I wanted Jude to look at me like I was the only one who mattered, the only one who could make his heart race. The desire to be his everything was intense, almost overwhelming.

I knew I could be possessive, but was that really such a bad thing? In a world full of distractions and temptations, wasn't it natural to want to hold on tightly to what you loved? I justified it to myself, thinking about how much I had invested the time, the effort, the sacrifices—all of it was worth it if I could be the one who made him feel complete.

The song's chorus hit, and I closed my eyes, mouthing the words "Like I'm the only one that you'll ever love," Rihanna crooned, and I imagined Jude's eyes on me, filled with love and admiration. I could see us together, building a future where no one else mattered but us. It was a fantasy, a fantasy I was determined to make a reality.

There was a part of me that knew my possessiveness stemmed from insecurity. It was like a vine that grew unchecked, wrapping itself around my heart and squeezing tightly. I tried to tame it, but it always found a way to creep back in, thriving on my fears and doubts. I hated how it made me feel, like I needed constant reassurance that I was enough.

Being possessive was like holding onto a rope during a storm. The harder you grip, the more it cuts into your hands, but letting go feels even scarier.

I wanted to be the only girl in his world, the one he thought about first thing in the morning and the last thing before he slept. If he perceived me that way, I wouldn't have seen the doubt in his eyes earlier when Alexis told him about the drink. Her words had planted a seed of suspicion, and I could see it growing, no matter how much I tried to ignore it.

I hated that they were in the same place, breathing the same air as he was . She had already caused so much pain, and now she was back, trying to drive a wedge between Jude and me. When she told him she thought I did something to her drink, it was like a punch to the gut, a reminder that I wasn't the only one in his world.

If I were the only girl in his world, he wouldn't have hesitated and he wouldn't have doubted me for even a second. But I saw it there, I could see it in his eyes, flickering, a part of him wanting to believe her. It stung, and my possessiveness roared to life, demanding that I find a way to push her out of our lives for good.

I replayed his words in my head, lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling. Alexis seemed to had been so sure of herself, so smug. It infuriated me. I could almost hear her voice, dripping with false concern. It made my blood boil. Why couldn't she just leave us alone? Why did she have to stir up trouble and make Jude doubt me?

I turned over, clutching my pillow tightly. It wasn't just about Alexis. It was about everything she represented—the past, his fucking past. The fact that he had other women before me makes me sick.

If only he saw me as the only girl in the world, none of this would matter. But the truth was, he had a history, a past that included other people. I couldn't erase that, no matter how much I wanted to. All I could do was be here, now, and prove to him that I was worth his trust and love.