Jobe Bellingham is a young English footballer known for his composed presence, athletic build, and confident style on the pitch. He has dark hair, expressive brown eyes, defined features, and a relaxed smile that gives him a naturally approachable look.
On the field, he carries himself with a calm confidence. He's tall for his age, moves with control, and has that focused expression that makes him seem serious when he's playing—but away from football, he comes across much more relaxed and easygoing. Overall, he has a quietly confident, polished look rather than an overly flashy one. He has soft brown skin, that perfect, more calming accent he inherited from the place he grew up in - Stourbridge, Birmingham, England.
Being the younger brother of Jude Bellingham had its perks, almost never the good ones. Everyone knew him as the 'failure brother' and not..Jobe. Even having his own skills, everyone's so focused on the brother who has it all rather than the younger one who's just as amazing. And that was his biggest insecurity.
"Ma, do I have to go?" He says, still sitting in the hotel room with his feet up on the sofa, his phone on with no apps running in his hand.
"Yes, Jobe. It's your brother's match." Denise said, picking up her small purse as she fixed her hair in the mirror. "You know we have to be there for him. Especially since you've just finished your season."
"But it's just a friendly..!" He pleaded, still not moving from his spot. His dad gave him a stern look, "I know he's always busy with his own matches to not come see yours, but you can't not come. You have no excuse."
"That's not the point.." he mumbled, knowing full well it kinda is.
"Friendly or not, we have to go. You promised." Denise said, walking to the door, "Out, now."
Mark smiled a bit, placing a hand on his son's shoulder, "And soon, he can come to your matches, aye?"
That made Jobe smile a bit more. He stood up, placing his phone in his pocket and fixed his clothes to smooth them out - a simple jacket and joggers. Something that he made look like it costs hundreds. He checked his reflection in the mirror, running a hand over his hair before following his parents out of the hotel room and down to the lobby, where the car was waiting.
The drive to the stadium was quiet. His parents chatting loudly about nothing in particular, while he looked out the window, just watching the cars go by. His phone was connected to his headphones, as he pulled them on and closed his eyes in satisfaction as they played his playlist full of the songs he loved.
"Ma, how long till we're there?" He asked, taking his headphones off. He looked over to his mother where she was seen on her phone.
She looks up at him, then down to her screen, then back up to him. "Hm..about 10 minutes, Jobe."
"Ten?" He repeats, "Already..?"
"Yeah, we tried to get a close hotel to the stadium." Mark nodded.
The sun outside started to set, casting a gorgeous colour of orange and red. He packed his stuff away back into their original place, then looked back out to the window where he saw a car passing by with a woman inside. His eyes lingered there..
She sat quietly in the car, the soft glow of the passing lights brushing across her face. Her eyes were gentle and warm, the kind that seemed to hold a quiet sweetness even when she wasn't saying anything. A natural smile rested on her lips—soft, genuine, and effortlessly pretty.
There was something calm about her presence. Her features were delicate, her expression relaxed, and the way she looked out the window made her seem almost lost in her own little world. Even in the ordinary light of the car, she had an effortless kind of beauty—nothing exaggerated, just naturally captivating.
