Who Are You?
"Jaehyuk! Can we get a quick interview?"
"You were named MVP of this camp—please, just a word on how you feel!"
"You climbed to the very top after beating out all the rising superstars—Mateo Rodriguez, Raysheen Guillory, Dakorien Moore! Do you think this was a deserved result?!"
The moment the event ended, the questions came pouring in.
Camera flashes burst from every direction, dazzling my eyes. Thanks to that, the ones really suffering weren't me, but the other players.
"Ugh."
"I'm dying."
The players, exhausted far more than I was, simply collapsed onto the floor where they stood. Seeing this, the staff hurriedly pushed the reporters back and helped the players toward the exits.
"Interviews later, please!"
"Player departures are tomorrow. There's still time, so the interviews—"
For the record, there was also a dinner event scheduled afterward—something about fostering harmony between the camp staff and players, or whatever.
I just want to go home.
Dragging my worn-out body along, I followed the path the staff had cleared. Questions still flew at me from every side, but I ignored them and walked on in silence.
Then, without warning—
"Jaehyuk! You've worked so hard!"
A woman suddenly blocked my path.
Her flashy, extravagant outfit stood out in particular.
Who...?
"We're renting out a hotel for a party later—just us. Want to come? It'll be so much fun."
"Who are you?"
"I'm sorry—what?"
She seemed slightly flustered by my question. At the same time, the reporters who had been holding the line for her froze, staring at us with wide eyes.
Click.
Click! Click! Click!
An unrelenting storm of photo flashes erupted.
Honestly, I had no clue what was going on.
"Um... do you, by any chance, not know who Snow White is?"
"Who on earth wouldn't know that?"
That's an old fairy tale, isn't it?
What nonsense has she been spouting this whole time?
I frowned and looked toward the staff. Why hasn't anyone cleared this woman out of my way?
"...Ah, you've never seen me out of costume, so you didn't recognize me. I'm Rachel Zegler."
"Who's that?"
"..."
Seriously, what is with this celebrity-syndrome patient?
Who the hell is Rachel Zegler?
Not wanting to waste another second, I simply walked right past the celebrity-syndrome patient.
What a bizarre character. I've seen it all now.
"Ooooh!"
"Daaamn!!"
"Jaehyuk! That was ice cold!"
"PUHAHAHA!"
The players trailing behind me let out gasps of disbelief. At the same time, the sound of cameras firing reached a fever pitch.
By this point, even I—who had been trying to walk away—was starting to get curious.
So who the hell is Rachel what's-her-name?
"What is this..."
Eunbi, at school, had been browsing online articles during lunch when she stumbled upon something strange.
The articles came flooding down all at once. Even major entertainment outlets were now carrying Jaehyuk's name.
"Kim Jaehyuk, what have you done this time!"
Eunbi immediately posted the articles she'd just found in the family group chat, tagging Jaehyuk.
As soon as Eunbi posted, the family read her messages—except one unread count stayed stubbornly at 1, as if someone hadn't looked at them at all. Then Minhyuk appeared in the chat.
Minhyuk had a point.
But Eunbi still felt frustrated. The issue wasn't who started it—the issue was that the articles were turning it into gossip!
"Ugh!"
What could she even say? Her parents, it seemed, had gone silent because once they started reading one article, they were checking every single one of the others. And that infuriating eldest brother of hers hadn't even opened the chat at all.
He really does need an agency to handle stuff like this.
At first she'd wondered if this was the career path she should aim for herself, but it was far too late for that. Jaehyuk was already becoming a nationally famous football star, and starting next year, his fame was bound to explode even further. The moment he entered college, he'd be living a life that rivaled any celebrity's.
From college football on, NIL contracts become possible, after all...
Name, Image, Likeness.
In other words, he'd be able to make money off his own likeness. Literally earning money the way celebrities do.
In the past, NCAA rules had forbidden college athletes from profiting through NIL, but the policy changed in 2021, allowing college athletes to earn money legally. A player with Jaehyuk's reach could rake it in through endorsement deals, autograph sessions and fan meetups, his own apparel brand, social media, football lessons and clinics—the list went on.
"..."
Hold on a second.
Then what she needed to start preparing for now wasn't an agency, was it?
Jaehyuk clearly had little interest in making money anyway. So what if she took on that role instead?
"Alright, let's do it."
Roughly two years remained until Jaehyuk entered college and started making waves. That was time enough to lay the groundwork for building his brand value. Plenty of teenagers founded companies these days, didn't they?
Let the bear do the tricks while I rake in the money! Everyone wins! Killing two birds with one stone!
...Was this right?
"I'll have to work hard at it."
"Eunbi!! Have you seen the articles coming out right now?! Oh my god! OH MY GOD!"
Ah, and so it begins.
Bracing herself for a long stretch of being hounded by her friends, Eunbi managed an awkward smile.
"Whoo!"
Thwack!
"Nice catch! That's it, Horton!"
Alabama's offensive coach let out a whoop of joy and threw an uppercut into the air. Then, watching Horton sprint away in an instant, he turned to head coach Kalen DeBoer.
"Seriously, did he go through some extra conditioning program or something? Horton's in phenomenal shape!"
"He went out to get some fresh air and came back properly recharged. With some special coaching on top of that."
"Gasp...!"
Special coaching?!
The offensive coach knew, of course, that Nick Saban had attended the camp Horton had just visited. And among coaches, Nick Saban's name was something close to taboo—everyone knew how much comparison and torment Kalen DeBoer had endured since taking over after Saban's retirement.
"Heh, it wasn't anything from old man Nick. Though it's not like he was no help at all."
"I'm sorry?"
DeBoer smiled at the bewildered coach.
"There's a remarkable kid. His eyes are exceptional. Honestly, if he weren't a player, he'd have made a brilliant coach."
"There was a player like that? Which college is he from?"
The coach naturally assumed he was one of the college players who'd attended the camp alongside them. But DeBoer simply shook his head, still smiling.
"By the way, what do you make of Horton? It was only one day, but I'd say he improved quite a bit."
"If he can maintain this form consistently until the regular season, I think we could use him as a rotational backup."
"My thoughts exactly. Let's see what he can do."
"Yes, sir."
Before long, Horton returned from the scrimmage and rehydrated, while the offensive coach offered his encouragement.
"Man, that was great! Horton! Just keep this up, alright?"
"Yes, sir."
For some reason, though, Horton's expression was far from bright.
The coach wondered why for a moment, then moved on to advise other players.
"Phew."
The day before, he'd returned to Alabama. Today, light training had finally resumed—and then a scrimmage. It was, without question, not bad.
But it was exactly that—not bad, and nothing more.
When I went up against that guy, it felt so much more electrifying.
Was it because it hadn't been a real game? That didn't hold up either—his match against Jaehyuk hadn't been a real game either.
How to put it... That something that set his chest ablaze simply wasn't present here.
Come to think of it, he'd felt the same way going up against the other elite high school prospects. That burning passion he'd felt only when matched against Jaehyuk's group...
"Hm?"
Taking a short break, Isaiah Horton checked his smartphone—and before long, his eyes landed on Jaehyuk's name.
"PFFT."
He spat out the water he'd been drinking and scrolled through the article. Soon, Horton muttered in utter disbelief.
"That lunatic."
There was no way he genuinely didn't know who Rachel Zegler was... right? Was he just trying to humiliate her?
But thinking back on the two days he'd spent around Jaehyuk, Horton decided it was entirely plausible.
If anything, the incident might make him even more famous. Jaehyuk had always been criminally underrated relative to his ability.
Maybe it's finally his time to shine?
He won MVP too. Sounds like they won the final scrimmage.
Of course they did.
He'd beaten college players, after all.
Granted, those college players had fielded a team of only seven, and every one of them was bench-level talent—but impressive was impressive.
Those were D1 athletes, after all.
"Hmmmm."
The moment Horton imagined Jaehyuk becoming famous, an inexplicable wave of anxiety washed over him.
And then he dashed off somewhere in a hurry.
"Coach!"
"Hm?"
Horton approached DeBoer and asked quietly, his face tense with worry.
"We really are bringing in Jaehyuk, right?"
"...You worry about yourself, you kid."
His skills were improving, and everything was great, really.
But Horton had developed a rather strange habit.
The camp came to a safe end.
After wrapping up the dinner event without incident, I headed straight home in David's car. I could have stayed an extra day, but that would have been a waste of time. If I could have booked the Dallas Cowboys' training facility, maybe one more day would've been worth it—but the moment the camp schedule ended, it was over.
Too bad. What a shame.
Once I started making money, I'd set up a training room of my own. Something absolutely top-notch.
From there, time passed smoothly enough.
National Signing Day.
Thanks to a full three of our seniors heading to D1 programs, we put on a signing-day performance, and I was officially named captain of the football team.
At the same time, I caught up on the academics I'd been neglecting—grades were a necessity for college admission, after all.
During the football offseason, I also competed in the local short-distance track meets. These days I cared less about placing first and more about whether my times were actually dropping.
And the result: a new personal record of 10.10 seconds in the 100m.
An absolutely blistering speed—the kind that could have eyes on the Olympics or World Championships.
Not that I've given up on those dreams already.
Still, it made the local news and lit up media outlets all over again. According to Eunbi and Minhyuk, my follower count had now surpassed fifty-seven thousand.
Honestly, that was still nowhere near enough.
It needed to blow past a hundred thousand, easy!
"Hey, kid. What are you thinking about so hard?"
"??"
Classes ended, and training finally arrived.
With so many players being rotated out, we needed to build chemistry all over again. The seniors were leaving, and the sophomores and freshmen had to fill the gaps.
Then, out of nowhere, good old Uncle Sanders came looking for me.
"What is it, Coach?"
"We've got a transfer student. He's joining the football team starting today."
A transfer student? But why come find me?
Oh—right, I'm the captain now, aren't I?
"Understood."
"He'll be waiting on the field, so get changed and come out quick."
"Yessir."
The transfer student was one thing.
But I had plenty of other problems on my mind. Since becoming captain, I was now in the position of coordinating the team—but the real issue lay somewhere else entirely.
We don't have a quarterback.
Unbelievably, incredibly—when the senior quarterbacks graduated, we were left with nothing.
There had definitely been a sophomore quarterback back when I joined, but a while ago he'd quit the team, saying he'd decided on his future path.
Are you kidding me? A football team with no quarterback?
How does that even happen?
While I was still wrestling with this monumental problem, I walked into the empty locker room and changed into my gear.
"Huh?"
Come to think of it, why was I the only one in here? Where was everyone else?
Puzzled, I headed out to the field—only to find that, for some reason, everyone but me was already warmed up and ready.
"Captain, what took you so long?!"
"You guys are just fast. What's going on today?"
One of the guys newly promoted to the starting lineup this season grinned and ribbed me.
"Man, and you call yourself captain—haven't you heard the news? Look over there."
"What news?"
I turned my head—and there, standing beside Coach Sanders, was someone who appeared to be the transfer student, waiting quietly.
But why did he look... so familiar?
"Holy crap!"
"We were literally freaking out about not having a quarterback, and—"
"Unreal. But why would he come to Kansas of all places?"
"Beats me."
Amid the players' murmuring, the transfer student finally stepped out of the shade.
"Hello. I'm Mateo Rodriguez, from Texas."
"..."
Why on earth are you here?