Chapter Text
Jude knew before anyone else did. That was the worst part. He knew. He knew the signs. He knew the little changes that meant things were getting worse again. The shorter replies. The excuses. The way he stopped making plans because it was easier than cancelling them. The way he started convincing himself that being alone was simpler.
He had already been here once. That was what terrified him. Because last time, he hadn't realised what was happening until everyone else noticed. This time, he could feel himself slipping. And he still couldn't stop it.
The morning started with a message from Erling.
Erling
Breakfast?
Jude stared at it. A month ago, he would have replied immediately. Maybe with an insult. Maybe with a joke. Something. Anything.
Now he watched the message sit there. He told himself he was busy. He told himself he was getting ready. He told himself he would answer in a minute.
Forty minutes later, Erling sent another.
That's a long time to choose cereal.
Jude smiled slightly. Then he put the phone down.
He never replied.
Training became easier to hide behind. That was the dangerous thing about football. There was always something to do. Something to improve. Something to blame.
If Jude felt exhausted, he could call it dedication.
If he stayed late, he could call it ambition.
If he pushed himself too hard, he could call it professionalism.
Nobody questioned someone who wanted to be better.
Especially not someone like Jude.
"You've been here since seven."
Jude looked over.
Antonio Pintus stood near the edge of the gym.
Jude checked the time. He hadn't realised it was that late. "Just getting some extra work in."
Pintus looked around. "The session ended two hours ago."
"I know."
"Then why are you still here?"
Jude opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Because he didn't have an answer that sounded normal. "I just wanted to improve."
Pintus nodded slowly. "I know you do."
The answer surprised him. There was no criticism. No anger. Just understanding.
"But improvement shouldn't feel like punishment."
Jude looked away. "I know."
Again. That answer. Pintus noticed. But he didn't push.
Not yet.
The first person Jude snapped at was Vinícius. Which somehow made it worse. Because Vinícius was almost impossible to upset.
They were walking out after training when Vinícius held out a bottle of water.
"You forgot this."
Jude frowned. "I didn't."
"You did."
"I didn't."
"You literally walked away without it."
"I was coming back."
"When?"
"Later."
Vinícius smiled. "You're impossible."
Normally, Jude would have laughed.
Instead:
"Can you stop?"
The words came out sharper than intended.
Vinícius immediately stopped.
Jude froze.
The silence between them felt awful.
"Sorry."
Vinícius looked at him. Not angry. Just confused. "You don't have to be."
"I do."
"No."
A pause.
"You look exhausted."
Jude looked away. "I said I'm fine."
The words came out before he could stop them. Vinícius' expression changed. Not because of what Jude said.
Because of how much he sounded like he needed to believe it.
That evening, Jude ignored three calls. One from his mum. One from Declan. One from Erling. He stared at the screen every time. He wanted to answer. That was the frustrating part. He wanted to. But answering meant questions. Questions meant honesty. Honesty meant admitting he wasn't okay. And he wasn't ready.
Erling knew something had changed. Not because Jude told him. Because Jude stopped fighting. Before, when Erling asked if he was okay, Jude would argue..He would defend himself. He would insist everything was fine.
Now? Nothing..Silence. Distance. And somehow that scared Erling more.