Chapter Text
February 18, 2020
The final whistle had blown. Dortmund had pulled off a 2-1 victory against the notorious PSG in the UEFA champions league 1st leg with Haaland scoring in the 35th minute of the match. The 19 year old had put on a show, reminding Europe why Dortmund had moved so quickly to sign him.
“Atta boy erling! Way to shut that ref up, I’m willing to bet my lucky boots that the fucker is blind,” Jadon Sancho, his partnering striker, shouted from behind.
“Yeah, I could have sworn I was on-side for some of those calls,” Haaland replied with a chuckle. Things were looking up for Dortmund, they were on a win streak and had recently signed the 19 year old striker who was a star rising in the soccer world.
As they made their way back to the dressing room, teammates clapped him on the back and offered congratulations. It had only been a month since he’d arrived in Dortmund, yet it already felt like he’d found his place.
“Have you heard they’re looking at that Birmingham kid?” Sancho asked as they started undressing into their post game wear.
Haaland frowned. “What kid?”
“Jude Bellingham. Sixteen. Midfielder. Everyone in England’s talking about him.”
“Sixteen?” Haaland scoffed with a grin. “What’s he supposed to do? Carry our midfield while he’s doing homework?”
Sancho laughed. “Don’t underestimate him. You’ll see.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Haaland left it at that and his mind wandered to the next games. He wanted to be the best striker Europe would ever see, and he will do everything in his power to be just that.
______________________________________
Later that night, Haaland couldn’t shake the conversation from the dressing room.
Sixteen years old.
He’d been carrying expectations since he was a teenager too, but sixteen? That seemed absurd. What could a kid still in school possibly do that had half of Europe talking?
Curiosity got the better of him.
He flipped open his laptop, the glow of the screen lighting the otherwise dark hotel room, and typed two words into the search bar.
Jude Bellingham.
Within seconds, article after article filled the screen.
Birmingham City’s teenage sensation…
One of England’s brightest prospects…
Borussia Dortmund interested in signing 16-year-old midfielder…
Haaland clicked the first highlight reel he saw.
The video opened with a lanky teenager gliding past defenders as if they weren’t there. Calm on the ball. Displaying confidence. Breaking defense lines single handedly.
“…Not bad,” Haaland muttered to himself.
By the time the compilation ended, he’d forgotten he was supposed to be going to sleep. He closed the laptop and thought maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world if the youngster gets signed to Dortmund.
After all, if he was as good as everyone claimed, he might be exactly what Haaland needed. With vision like that, the kid could pick out passes others never saw, setting him up for even more goals.
No complaints there.
July 20, 2020
Jude walked into the Dortmund dressing room for the first time, trying not to look as nervous as he felt. After months of transfer rumors, the move from Birmingham City was finally complete.
At just seventeen now, he’d become one of Europe’s most talked about young talents, but that did little to calm the butterflies in his stomach.
The room was already alive with conversation. Boots scraped against the tiled floor, music hummed softly from a speaker in the corner paired with the smell of fresh training gear.
Jude adjusted the strap of his duffel bag and quietly took in his surroundings. Every face was familiar, not because he’d met them, but because he’d spent some years watching some of them on television.
He spotted Marco Reus laughing with Mats Hummels across the room. Jadon Sancho was joking with a few teammates near the lockers. Then his eyes landed on the towering blond striker sitting a few lockers away.
Erling Haaland.
Haaland looked up from lacing his boots, noticing the teenager lingering by the doorway.
So that’s the Birmingham kid, he thought.
He remembered Sancho talking about him months earlier after the Champions League win over PSG. Sixteen years old. Everyone in England’s talking about him.
Looking at him now, Haaland had to admit he didn’t seem like much. He appeared to be the average teenager with some muscles to grow. He stood awkwardly with his bag slung over one shoulder.
Let’s see if you’re really worth all the hype.
Haaland stood and walked over.
“You planning on standing there all day?”
Jude blinked, caught off guard.
“Uh… no.”
A grin spread across the blond’s face.
“I’m just messing with you.” He extended a hand. “Erling Haaland. Just call me Erling.”
Jude let out a quiet laugh and shook his hand.
“Jude. Nice to meet you.”
Erling nodded toward an empty locker a few feet away.
“That’s yours. Welcome to Dortmund.”
“Thanks.” Jude smiled. “Happy to be here.”
Jude walked over to his locker and set his duffel bag down, carefully unpacking his boots and training gear. As he pulled on his Dortmund training kit, he could still feel the lingering gaze of the towering blond striker from across the room. Whether Haaland was sizing him up or simply curious, Jude couldn’t tell.
A few minutes later, the squad made their way out to the training pitch. The warm July sun beat down as coaches organized cones and mannequins while players stretched and chatted among themselves.
Jude took a slow breath.
This was his first session with Borussia Dortmund. First impressions mattered. He wasn’t here to be the seventeen-year-old wonderkid everyone kept talking about, he was here to prove he belonged here. Every touch, every pass, every decision would be watched closely by not just the coaches but teammates as well.
Training wasn’t just about impressing the staff. It was his first chance to earn the trust of the players around him and begin fighting for a place in the starting eleven.
A whistle cut through the chatter as one of the coaches called everyone together. The conversations died down, and the players formed a loose semicircle around him.
“Alright, lads,” the coach began. “Before we get started, we’ve got a few new faces joining us this season.”
He gestured toward Jude.
“This is Jude Bellingham. He’s just joined us from Birmingham City. Make him feel welcome, yeah?”
A chorus of nods and greetings spread through the group. He accidentally locked eyes with a certain blond.
Jude offered a small smile. “Looking forward to working with all of you.”
The first part of the training session went smoothly, containing some passing and agility drills. Throughout the session, he couldn’t keep his eyes off Erling.
Every pass seemed to roll into exactly the space Haaland wanted, and somehow he was always there to meet it. It was as if he could see the game a second before everyone else.
Jude found himself wondering what it would be like to play alongside him instead of simply watching from the opposite side of the drill.
Finally, it was time to scrimmage for the last portion of training.
Erling and Jude had been placed on the same team, definitely not by accident. This was a test. They were seeing if they were compatible on the field.
The first couple times Jude had touched the ball were easy passes to maintain possession. Passes he could do in his sleep.
The third time he got the ball, he recognized the defender's body movement was leaning towards the right of his body, trying to shut him down.
In a split second, Jude faked right and took the ball across the left of his body, shaking off the defender and revealing space for him to do what he’s known for, to make an opportunity.
Jude spotted Sancho beginning his run and instinctively shaped to play the pass. At the last second, he hesitated. Sancho had drifted a step beyond the back line.
Instead, Jude lifted his head.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Haaland peeling off his defender, timing his run perfectly into the space the back line had left exposed.
Without a second thought, Jude threaded the ball between two defenders.
“Go on!” someone shouted.
Haaland latched onto it in full stride. One touch carried him into the box, leaving him one-on-one with the goalkeeper.
The keeper rushed off his line, trying to close the angle. Calm as ever, Haaland shifted the ball onto his right with a single touch before unleashing a thunderous strike.
The ball rocketed past the outstretched gloves and buried itself in the bottom left corner of the net.
A few of the players let out impressed whistles while the coaches exchanged satisfied glances.
Haaland slowed to a jog, turning back toward midfield. His eyes immediately found Jude.
He pointed at him before jogging over.
“That pass…” Haaland said, shaking his head with a grin. “Most players would’ve forced it to Sancho.”
Jude shrugged. “He was offside.”
“Exactly.” Haaland nodded. “You waited.”
“I saw your run.”
Haaland chuckled. “Then keep seeing it.”
Haaland gave Jude a firm pat on the back before jogging back into position as both teams reset for another kickoff.
They played for another twenty minutes, and with every passing minute Jude felt the weight on his shoulders grow a little lighter. The nerves that had followed him onto the pitch slowly disappeared, replaced by confidence. His passes became sharper, his first touch cleaner, and he began to trust his instincts instead of overthinking every decision.
More than once, he found Haaland making another perfectly timed run. More than once, their connection caught the defenders off guard.
By the time the final whistle signaled the end of training, Jude was breathing heavily, sweat dripping from his forehead. He bent over with his hands on his knees, exhausted but satisfied.
As he caught his breath, he felt a hand land on his shoulder.
“That was quite the performance you had back there.”
Jude looked up, slightly startled, and found Haaland standing over him with a grin.
For a second, he forgot how tired he was.
This was Erling Haaland, the player he’d watched tear through Champions League defenses, the same player he’d studied on his laptop months before ever stepping foot in Dortmund. The striker everyone expected him to impress.
And now he was standing there, complimenting him.
Was he being serious?
Jude quickly looked away, trying not to let the surprise show.
“You think so?”
Haaland raised an eyebrow, almost amused by the doubt in his voice.
“I know so.”
The confidence behind the words caught Jude off guard.
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The rest of the team had already started heading toward the dressing room, leaving the two of them standing on the pitch.
“I guess the rumors were right about you,” Haaland finally said.
Jude glanced at him.
“What rumors?”
Haaland started walking backward toward the tunnel, still smiling.
“That you’re pretty good.”