Need - Jude Bellingham

43

sorry but the only way i'd end up actually writing is if i skip the last few matches so pretend it's the end of the final, England vs Italy and England have lost; Italy winning the euros.

(i updated on accident when it wasn't finished so mb! also i litch haven't proof read cba but comment if there's any bad mistakes i'll go back through it later and correct everything. merry christmas)

———

I watched in suspense as both teams got ready to start taking penalties.
"Do you think Bukayo will do one?" Jobe asked, leaning his arms over the barrier and turning to face me as I shrugged, readjusting my posture to try hide my anxiousness.

"Jude won't," he snorted, Denise pushing him so that he went into the barrier further, groaning slightly.
"Deserved," I commented, laughing as his mum nodded with a grin.

Our attention went back to the pitch as a whistle blew and Italy's first played stood, ready to take his shot that Pickford couldn't save; causing me to gulp.

"It's calm, we're calm. Ayodele stop stressing, we're good, we got this, we-"
"Jobe."
"Right."

Kane stood facing Italys goalkeeper, and soon the whole stadium was on its feet, applauding as the ball hit the back of the net.

Pickford saved the next shot, putting us ahead and making the younger Bellingham shake me in excitement despite my complaints.

Maguire took the next, and scored.

Rashford got into position, wiping the sweat from his face; he was visibly nervous. My stomach churned as I watched helplessly as he dropped to his knees after hitting the post.

Italys next player scored. Making 3-2 to them.

Sancho walked up next, looking around and taking his sweet time, making me chuckle lightly. I stood at the barrier beside Jobe to get a better view, praying that he got it in for his own sake.

Saved.

Italys last player stepped up, but failed to score as Pickford's determination pulled through.

All of a sudden it clicked.
"Kayo's gonna be last," I spoke, almost emotionless, "It's all gonna be on him."
"He never misses, it's chill. Star boy innit?" Jobe made a sore attempt at calming my nerves as I clicked my fingers, twisting my earrings.

As expected, Bukayo walked up confidently but I could see through his facade. He was just a kid man, it wasn't fair.

He booted it, Italys goalie, Donnarumma, catching it in his arms almost immediately. I looked away so as not to see my brother watch his dreams crumble in front of him.

"Shit..." Jobe sat back down, face full of disbelief.
Denise looked at him, ready to lecture him about his language but figured it wasn't the time as I held both hands on the back of my neck, eyes welling for my brother.

Italys bench ran onto to the field to celebrate with their teammates whilst the England squad looked between each other in disbelief.

"I'm just gonna-" I motioned to the stairs, "Bukayo's gonna be- you know."
She nodded, smiling sympathetically, "Go check he's okay, we'll keep Jude busy."
"Obviously he's not gonna be okay mum," Jobe spoke with a roll of the eyes, making me stifle a laugh due to the bluntness, as I jogged to the ground floor and through the hallways with the special pass I had.

I got to the entrance of the tunnel, a reporter stood and waiting for the players to come back inside.
"You're not allowed in here miss."
"And neither are you, fuck off," I made my way towards the pitch but he stepped in front of me.