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Interviewer: "And, random commentator, what did you think about Jude Bellingham's two goals?"
"Personally," the other commentator replied, "I think it was a performance to remember for England, and I'd hope that Norway watches out for that greatness in England's team."
"Next, we'll have a short break before the interviews... See you soon."
⋆. ୨୧˚⋆ In the changing rooms, a while later ⋆. ୨୧˚⋆
"Judeeee! Great goal, man—"
cough cough
"You too, Captain."
Both men nodded at each other in approval as the rest of the team shouted and laughed loudly, celebrating another win.
The guys each grabbed a beer and changed into something more comfortable. Jude pulled on a grey hoodie before getting into a private car and asking to be taken back to the hotel.
Once he got there, Jude didn't have much to do in his room except scroll through social media and see what had already been posted.
Nothing much out of the ordinary... highlight edits, interviews, nothing too crazy. Although he did feel a little bad for the Mexicans, since he'd really pushed himself during the match.
RING! RING! RING!
Who's that?
"JUDYYYY, my cute-cumber!"
Jude groaned.
Haaland... great.
Jude wiped a hand down his face and fixed his hair slightly before looking into the camera.
"Haaland... how are you?"
"I'm very good, my friend! I just wanted to see how your match went!"
Jude rolled his eyes. Erling had always been loud... too loud for most people, but Jude put up with it the best he could.
"It went well."
"That is very good! I'm glad everything went well for you. I heard you scored two goals in two minutes—that's amazing! I am proud. You might almost be as good as me!"
Jude laughed and rolled his eyes.
"Well, just so you know, I'm up against you next week, so be ready. Don't expect me to go easy on you just because we've been on the same team before."
Erling laughed, his voice strong and overpowering, but to Jude it was simply a sign of their friendship.
"I've got to go, but I'll text you later, maybe, Judy. Where's the next city you're flying to?"
"We're going to be staying in Miami for a bit, but... yeah, text me."
Jude hung up just as there was a knock at the door.
It was Harry Kane.
"The rest of the guys are settled in for the night. Amazing game today. Make sure to sleep well. You have tomorrow morning off, but we've got an afternoon flight, alright?"
"Alright, Cap."
Harry shut the door, and Jude locked it before changing into his navy-blue silk pyjamas for the night.
⋆. ୨୧˚⋆ The next morning ⋆. ୨୧˚⋆
"Judeee! Jude, are you dead?"
Bellingham rubbed his eyes, his blankets wrapped around him in odd and wonderful ways.
"Huh?"
"We're all headed out for breakfast. You coming, or do you want to sleep in?"
"Uh... I might join you in a bit..."
"Alright!"
Jude rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to wash his face, brush his teeth, and put some moisturiser on.
He checked his phone while still having his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.
He noticed Haaland had posted some weird Snapchat story, which he stared at for a minute before laughing to himself and ignoring it.
He also found that Haaland had directly messaged him a photo of himself wearing sunglasses... with his hair in pigtails...
Sometimes Jude wondered if this guy was really as old as he claimed to be...
Bellingham spat into the sink and rinsed his mouth before getting changed into some casual clothes, his legs aching as he did so.
That match had really taken it out of him, so he tested his legs by stretching. They felt stiff, so he started loosening them up by massaging his calves and lower legs, making sure he wasn't in pain or strained for whatever the day had in store for him.
Looking at the time, he realised it was around 9 a.m., and the captain wanted everyone ready for their flight by noon. He'd better grab something to eat quickly if he wanted breakfast before they left.
He hurried to the lift and headed down to the hotel's breakfast area, where he spotted one of his teammates, Morgan Rogers.
"Hey, Morgan, what's up?"
"Nothing much. Come for some food, have you?"
"Of course. Can't miss out on some Mexican culture. What are they serving?"
Morgan gestured to his plate.
"Mexican breakfast omelettes. Quite delicioso, if I might say so myself."
Jude looked at the food and had to agree. It did look good, so he grabbed himself a plate and helped himself to one.
⋆. ୨୧˚⋆ After breakfast ⋆. ୨୧˚⋆
Bellingham hopped back up to his room one last time to grab the rest of his things before joining the rest of the squad, who were already waiting in the cars, ready to head to the airport for their flight to Miami.
The flight went about as you'd expect—smooth, with just a bit of chatter and plenty of congratulations after yesterday's win.
⋆. ୨୧˚⋆ Arrival in Miami ⋆. ୨୧˚⋆
The flight landed just after lunchtime, the bright Florida sunshine pouring through the plane windows as everyone slowly woke up from their naps.
"Welcome to Miami, lads," Harry called from the front as people began grabbing their bags from the overhead lockers.
"Finally," Jude muttered, stretching his legs. "My back is absolutely finished."
"You should try being taller," John Stones laughed as they walked off the plane.
The warm air hit them almost instantly as they stepped outside.
"Blimey..." Morgan Rogers sighed. "This is proper heat."
"It'll be worse once we're training," Declan grinned.
The team bus was already waiting for them. A small group of England supporters had gathered outside the airport, waving shirts and flags and cheering as the players climbed aboard.
Jude stopped for a moment to sign a few shirts before Harry gently called everyone over.
"Come on, lads. Hotel first."
The drive into Miami was surprisingly quiet. Most of the squad either had headphones on or stared out of the windows, watching the palm trees fly past.
Jude's phone buzzed.
𝘌𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 🫎
You survive the flight?
Barely.
A second later, another photo arrived.
Erling... wearing sunglasses indoors... giving a thumbs-up.
Jude couldn't help but laugh.
You're actually ridiculous.
Thank you.
---
⋆. ୨୧˚⋆ The Hotel ⋆. ୨୧˚⋆
The hotel overlooked the beach, with huge glass windows and balconies facing the ocean.
"Not bad..." Jude said quietly as he wheeled his suitcase into his room.
He dropped his bags beside the bed before walking straight over to the balcony.
The sea stretched for miles, waves rolling gently onto the sand.
His phone buzzed again.
𝘌𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 🫎
Bet my hotel is nicer.
Jude didn't even look away from the view.
You're impossible.
Correct.
After unpacking a few things and changing into England's navy training kit, Jude headed back downstairs, where the rest of the squad were already waiting.
"No one fall asleep during training," Harry joked.
"I make no promises," Jude muttered.
⋆. ୨୧˚⋆ First Session in Miami ⋆. ୨୧˚⋆
The training ground sat just outside the city, surrounded by palm trees, with the afternoon sun beating down onto the immaculate grass.
As soon as everyone stepped onto the pitch, someone complained.
"It's too hot."
"Who's saying that?" Kyle Walker laughed.
"You've been here thirty seconds."
The session started easily, everyone jogging together while chatting about yesterday's match.
Jude found himself beside Morgan Rogers and Cole Palmer.
"You still buzzing about your goals?" Morgan asked.
"I mean... a little bit."
"A little bit?" Cole smirked. "Mate, if I'd scored two goals in two minutes, I'd still be watching the highlights."
"I've only watched them once..."
"Liar."
Jude laughed.
"Twice."
Once they were properly warmed up, the footballs finally came out.
Almost instantly, the atmosphere changed.
Players split into groups, passing the ball around with quick one-touch football while shouting jokes across the pitch.
"Man on!"
"Too slow!"
"That's shocking!"
Declan Rice nutmegged Trent, earning a chorus of cheers.
"No one saw that," Trent said immediately.
"We all saw it," Jude laughed.
The coaches soon organised a small tournament with four teams playing short matches.
The losers had to collect all the footballs afterwards.
"No pressure then," Bukayo Saka grinned.
Jude's team included Morgan Rogers, Cole Palmer, Levi Colwill and Anthony Gordon.
The matches were fast, competitive and full of laughter.
Cole somehow managed to nutmeg Jude before calmly saying,
"Didn't even mean it."
"You absolutely did."
A few minutes later, Jude got his revenge, slipping the ball through Cole's legs before finishing into the bottom corner.
"There we go."
Cole simply pointed at him.
"That's personal."
Harry's team eventually reached the final against Jude's.
The winning goal came after Jude and Morgan played a quick one-two around the edge of the box before Jude slipped the ball across for Morgan to tap home.
The celebrations were far bigger than they needed to be.
Morgan sprinted away, pretending he'd just won the World Cup, while everyone else burst out laughing.
"Calm down!" Harry shouted.
"It's only training!"
The losing teams spent the next few minutes collecting footballs while the winners stood clapping sarcastically from the halfway line.
"Oh, cheers, lads," Declan called.
"Really helpful."
"I know," Jude smiled.
"We're very supportive."
To finish the session, the coaches organised a shooting competition.
Crossbar challenge.
The first one to hit it won.
Shot after shot either flew too high or bounced underneath.
Eventually, Jude stepped up.
One strike.
CLANG.
Straight off the crossbar.
The squad erupted.
"No way!"
"Finally!"
Jude simply shrugged with a grin.
"Too easy."
"Don't get cocky," Harry laughed.
The session ended with everyone cooling down together before slowly walking back towards the changing rooms, still laughing about missed chances, ridiculous nutmegs and Morgan's over-the-top celebration.
As Jude unlocked his phone, another message from Erling appeared.
𝘌𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 🫎
How was training, Judy?
Jude smiled.
Won the tournament. Hit the crossbar. Pretty good day.
A few seconds later, the reply came.
Cute.
Still scoring against you next week.
Jude shook his head.
We'll see about that.
Jude picked up a towel in the changing room and wiped the sweat from his forehead before getting changed and heading back to the cars with the rest of the team.
Everyone was already tired from the day, so the journey back was fairly quiet.
Checking into the new hotel didn't take long. Everyone collected their room keys and headed off to settle in for the rest of the day...
And then Jude's phone started ringing.
He looked down at the screen.
𝘌𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 🫎
He couldn't exactly answer the phone in front of the whole team, so he quietly excused himself and headed upstairs.
Jude let himself into his hotel room, tossing the keycard onto the desk before letting out a long sigh.
"Home for the next few days..."
He rolled his suitcase over to the bed, unzipped it and immediately began unpacking.
Hoodies into the wardrobe.
Trainers neatly by the door.
Toiletries lined up beside the sink.
His phone started vibrating across the bedside table.
"...Oh right, this dude."
He smiled to himself before answering.
"Hello?"
"Juuuudyyy!"
Jude laughed despite himself.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The dramatic entrance."
"I have a reputation to maintain."
"You certainly do."
Jude rested the phone against the dresser while putting a stack of folded T-shirts into one of the drawers.
"So..." Erling continued. "How's Miami?"
"Hot."
"That's all?"
"It's very hot."
"I can hear you melting."
"I'm unpacking."
"Ah."
Jude pulled his England training shirt over his head before reaching into the suitcase for a clean grey T-shirt.
"You know," Erling said, "most people unpack after they've stopped talking."
"You know," Jude replied, slipping the shirt on, "most people don't call thirty seconds after I arrive."
"I was making sure you hadn't forgotten me."
Jude snorted.
"I've been here less than an hour."
"So that's a no?"
"I never said that."
There was a short pause before Erling laughed.
"I'll take that."
Jude shook his head, smiling as he hung the last hoodie in the wardrobe.
"You really are impossible."
"And yet... you still answer every time I call."
"...You're annoying."
"But you answered."
"I did."
"So you like talking to me."
"I tolerate talking to you."
"Ouch."
Jude could practically picture Erling pretending to be offended.
He walked over to the balcony, pushing the sliding door open. Warm air drifted inside as the sound of the waves reached his ears.
"It's actually nice here," Jude admitted quietly.
"You sound surprised."
"I wasn't expecting the view."
"So you're standing on the balcony."
"...Maybe."
"I know you too well."
Jude smiled to himself.
"That's slightly concerning."
"I pay attention."
A comfortable silence settled between them for a few moments.
Jude leaned against the balcony railing, watching the sea shimmer in the afternoon sun.
"So..." Erling eventually spoke.
"Mm?"
"You nervous?"
"For what?"
"Our match."
Jude chuckled.
"Not even slightly."
"Oh?"
"I'm more worried about you."
"Me?"
"Yeah."
"Why's that?"
"Because if you celebrate in front of me after scoring, I'm definitely tackling you."
Erling burst into laughter.
"You'll have to catch me first."
"I've done it before."
"You've also lost to me before."
Jude rolled his eyes.
"Keep dreaming."
"I don't have to."
"You are unbelievably confident."
"It's one of my best qualities."
"It's one of your most annoying qualities."
"But not the most annoying."
Jude pretended to think for a second.
"...No, that's still when you send me fifty selfies in one day."
"I looked good."
"You looked like you'd stolen someone's sunglasses."
"They suited me."
"They really didn't."
Erling laughed again, the familiar sound making Jude smile without even realising it.
"I'll send you another one later."
"If you do, I'm blocking you."
"No, you won't."
"...Probably not."
"I knew it."
There was another brief silence before Erling's voice softened just a little.
"Get some rest, yeah?"
"We've both got training tomorrow."
"I will."
"And don't overdo it."
"You sound like Harry."
"I'll pretend that's a compliment."
"It wasn't."
"Liar."
Jude laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I should probably finish unpacking."
"Fine."
"But text me later."
"I'll think about it."
"You will."
"...Yeah."
"I knew it."
"Bye, Erling."
"See you soon, Judy."
The call ended.
Jude looked down at the phone in his hand, shaking his head with a smile that refused to disappear.
"...Idiot."
He slipped the phone into his pocket before turning back towards the room, finally finishing unpacking as the evening sun dipped lower over the Miami coastline.
It was a beautiful place, and Jude couldn't help but appreciate it. He spent most of his time in Europe, and while he wasn't saying it was bad there, England wasn't exactly known for its sunny weather.
He wondered what Haaland was doing for training and whether he'd already found some way to get himself into trouble... or get lost... or somehow wander into somewhere he definitely wasn't supposed to be.
Maybe...
Just maybe...
He was actually looking forward to seeing Haaland again.