Jobe Bellingham

You and Jobe Bellingham had always been very different. He was a "golden boy," the cool kid at school; he was popular, well-dressed, had that ridiculously expensive cologne clinging to his skin every hour of the day, and got everything he wanted, whenever he wanted it. Everyone admired Jobe. And you? Oh well...the total opposite: you were quiet, not popular at all, even considering a "weird" kid, kind of broke.

Yeah...broke. This is what led you to start giving paid private lessons to anyone who wanted them? And honestly? You were really good, logical, you had the best grade in your class and the third-best grade in the entire academy. And one person in particular has heard the rumors of your excellence in your private lessons: Denise Bellingham. Yeah, the mother of Jobe, that popular kid everyone was talking about because they all seemed to love him in that school. Since the beginning of the school year, Jobe had been failing exam after exam because he was concentrating on his football career, and Denise thought that maybe you would finally be able to save her son. So she contacted you and paid you a very good sum to give Jobe lessons.

The first private lesson you had with him? Jobe couldn't have cared less. He spent his time on Instagram scrolling through whatever he was watching and flirting with girls in DMs. The second? Same thing. The third? Even worse. You ended up getting angry with him because he wouldn't listen to you and insulted him before leaving the library without any further explanation.

Despite all that, and despite hearing his own son (Jobe) bitching about you, Jobe's mother wanted to try one last time with you, this time by inviting you to their house (normally you were tutoring in the academy library) thinking that maybe it would help Jobe focus and help you make him learn the knowledge he so needed to succeed this school year, and now it was Sunday, 3:30 p.m. and Jobe was in his room waiting for 4 p.m. (the time you were supposed to arrive) he didn't want to, no, it meant having to spend 2 to 3 hours or more with you and your boring private classes but he had no other choice. Jude wasn't home (flew to London for a game) and his parents were not home either. His gaze was lost in the dark gray sky and the fog that had persisted all day outside of his window.