Relentless Guys (3)
After some scorching morning sex, we left the hotel. Yuko was walking a bit unsteadily—probably because I'd pounded her enthusiastically right from the start of the day. But once I treated her to a delicious meal at that restaurant she'd always wanted to try, she perked right up.
After parting ways with Yuko, I gave Jose Bravo a call. He'd already heard the gist from my uncle, so he immediately clocked why I was reaching out.
"Adrian was begging me to find you the cheapest yet best property out there."
"Where in the world do you find something that's both cheap and good? Haha!"
"Woo-hoo-ha-ha! Exactly—you're already grasping the truths of this world."
I'm not trying to score points, but somehow, every time I talk to him, the perfect thing to say just pops out—stuff that makes Jose Bravo grin ear to ear.
"But listen. There's one more truth in this world."
"What's that?"
"Conversely, there are plenty of expensive things that are total crap. All show, no substance."
"Ah..."
"Don't worry. I've climbed this high precisely because I never peddle that junk to my clients."
It was obvious self-praise from a successful guy, but it sounded cool instead of arrogant. Words carry weight when backed by actions, right?
A few days later, true to his word, Jose Bravo showed me some solid options. They weren't cheap. Spain's rents are relatively affordable compared to other European countries, but you can't expect bargains in central Madrid. I rented the top floor of a seven-story building. The monthly rent was 3,000 euros—over 4 million won in Korean money—and that was no small sum. But it had underground parking, plenty of nearby amenities, and it wasn't bad overall. Especially the outdoor terrace with a killer view straight over Madrid's plazas. A real gem.
The building itself had that old-school vibe, but the interior was spotless, no defects in the fixtures. Basic furniture and appliances—washer, fridge, etc.—came as options, which I took. The only downside? No bed included.
"So, moving's all wrapped up?"
After days of frantic packing, game day for round 29 had snuck up on me.
"Not yet. Still got some tidying to do, and the bed won't arrive for another two days."
"Bummer. Miguel and I were gonna crash your place for a housewarming after the game."
"I'll invite you guys soon. Oh, the Corear crew's coming too."
"Right! I recommended Corear to my parents, and they said it was fantastic."
"Glad to hear it."
By the way, the guy I'm chatting with is our team's right-back, Joni Montoya. Nickname Joni. He's been tight with Miguel Amaro since their youth academy days at AD Alcorcon, sharing the same rice bowl all these years. I get along with everyone on the team, but I mostly hang with these two. Our on-pitch chemistry with Miguel has spilled over into off-field bromance.
"Hey, Theo, how's your condition today?"
"Perfect, as always."
"Phew. Good. I was worried the move might throw you off."
I smirked at Joni as he let out a relieved sigh. He must've asked out of the blue because today's match was a big deal.
Our away opponents were Getafe B, the reserve team of the La Liga side Getafe CF. Currently sitting third. They'd snatched that spot from CD Guadalajara, who dropped out of promotion contention after a string of losses post our clash with them. Beat Getafe B, and our last five games are all against mid-to-lower table teams. A win today locks in our promotion spot—and maybe even eyes on the title.
"If we beat Getafe today, we jump to third, right?"
"Yeah. They're just one point ahead. Five behind second-place Numancia. Nine from Navalcarnaro up top."
Joni's voice buzzed with excitement as he continued.
"We have to win today. Navalcarnaro and Numancia both lost. Heh."
A win pulls us to six points from first and just one from second.
"Joni, just whip in those crosses. I'll head 'em all home."
Joni had been a benchwarmer, but he'd started the last two games and shone. His defending's a bit lacking, but since I joined, we've gone on the attack, spotlighting his offensive runs. Not the strongest or fastest, but that right foot packs a wallop. Word is, he was the youth team's set-piece specialist....
"Leave it to me. I'll ping 'em right to your head."
"Counting on you."
I grinned at him, then glanced at Miguel Amaro. Huh, he's quieter than usual today.
"Hey, Joni."
"Yeah?"
"Something up with Miguel?"
"Miguel?"
Maybe he's just psyching himself up for this crucial game. But he wasn't this tense even against league leaders CDA Navalcarnaro, so it felt off.
"He's not sick or anything, is he?"
We could win without Miguel—he's great, but his dribbling creates chances more than goals. With me as the finisher, no way we get shut out. The issue? Scoring a ton might be tougher. He drags two or three defenders, opening space for me. And his assists to me? Stacked.
"Nah, he's not sick."
Joni glanced at Miguel and shook his head, adding softly,
"Probably that guy's fault."
That guy?
"Getafe's got Miguel's nemesis. Used to be friends, but they're on the outs now. Miguel hates his guts."
"Nemesis?"
"Yeah. And we lost to them last time. Miguel wants this win more than anyone."
Joni didn't spill details—none of his business. I just nodded and dropped it. Come to think of it, his eyes were sharper in training. I was busy with the move, so I brushed it off.
I didn't learn who Miguel's beef was with until pre-match training. But right before kickoff, in the tunnel as both teams lined up, it hit me.
"Hey, Miguel! Can't even greet an old friend?"
Getafe B's keeper smirked at Miguel. Taller than me by a head, and handsome too.
"Don't talk to me."
Miguel was ice-cold. Obvious enemy number one. I wondered what beef could make him this hostile.
"Lisa says hi, by the way."
At "Lisa," Miguel's brow furrowed deep. The keeper grinned wider.
"Lisa's doing great. Thought you might wonder."
"...Not anymore. Shut up."
"Oh? Forgotten her completely?"
"...I said shut it."
Lisa—girl trouble, huh? Love triangle?
"Oh, right—one more thing."
The keeper whispered in Miguel's ear. Miguel's eyes widened, face flushing red. Ready to swing. Joni jumped in to separate them. The keeper just kept smirking.
"Alright, everyone in."
The ref led us onto the pitch. As we headed to positions post-handshakes, Miguel tapped my back.
"Theo. Got a favor."
"Yeah?"
"Run twice as hard today."
"Twice?"
I could guess why, but played dumb. He glanced at their goal, grinding his teeth.
"I want to give that keeper... the biggest humiliation of his life."
"...!"
"Please. Beat him so bad he can't sleep tonight."
I chuckled at Miguel's burning drive.
"How many goals to satisfy you?"
"As many as possible. More than usual."
My record's seven in a game—more than that? Piece of cake.
"Just thread the passes. I'll crush that keeper's ego like you want."
Miguel nodded with venom in his eyes and headed to his spot. His back looked more determined than ever.