Off-Season (3)
To gloss over the situation, I sold out my friends. I first thought about throwing Tiago under the bus, but since he worked at Corear, there was a risk Aunt Han Mi-ju or Uncle Adrian would find out. So I went with Miguel Amaro and Joni Montoya instead—they had virtually no overlap with my family.
"They're my teammates, but the guys can be real pranksters. They gave me all those condoms as a housewarming gift, haha."
Dad didn't react much, but Mom still eyed me with suspicion. She might have figured it out, actually. If all the condom boxes had been unopened, maybe not—but one was already open, with three used.
Still, Mom didn't press further. If anything, she seemed a little disappointed.
...Or maybe that was just my imagination.
Aunt Han Mi-ju asked Uncle Adrian, "Do kids these days have a culture of gifting condoms like that?" He just shrugged lightly instead of answering.
Something about that look in his eyes stuck with me. It felt like he knew something, with the corner of his mouth twitching up just a bit—which only fueled my unease.
Come to think of it, Uncle Adrian had been at Gonzalo's party where he'd seen my big dick.
I desperately hoped he hadn't pieced together that one of the two women I'd fucked on that bed was Elena.
"When Tae-oh first said he was coming to Madrid, I was so worried. Not as much as you, sis, of course. But get this—he speaks better Spanish than I do! Even my husband mentioned it. Said he sounds like a native."
During dinner at my place—which had somehow turned into this family feast—Aunt Han Mi-ju kept showering me with praise to my parents. They listened with pleased smiles plastered on their faces.
"The real surprise starts now. My father-in-law owns a club, right? So my husband hooked him up with it. We figured an ex-pro like Tae-oh would do well in an amateur league. But! After just one game, the coach there introduced him to the club he's at now. Said he didn't belong there. Oh, and that coach is my husband's friend too."
She slipped in subtle props for her husband as well. Uncle Adrian didn't speak Korean fluently, but he seemed to catch that it was praise for him.
"I'm truly grateful to Uncle Adrian."
"No need. If anything, I'm the grateful one. Thanks to you, Coslada got promoted."
CD Coslada had finally achieved the promotion they'd dreamed of. Starting next season, they'd play in the fifth tier, Tercera Federacion, instead of the amateur leagues.
Uncle Adrian crediting it to me felt a bit embarrassing. I'd only played one game—how much could that really contribute?
But the people at CD Coslada saw it differently.
"You demolished Robledo so bad that the team's morale shot through the roof—straight to God's asshole. We didn't go on a 14-game win streak like Alcorcon, but winning that match was key to promotion. Not exaggerating."
Robledo CF had been a direct rival for promotion, so Uncle Adrian explained that my insane performance against them had been decisive.
I just grinned sheepishly.
"Anyway! Drinks at Tae-oh's tonight, lunch at our place tomorrow. After that, Tae-oh can show you two around properly."
Aunt Han Mi-ju raised her wine glass. For the record, this wine was a gift from Jose Bravo. He too insisted Coslada's promotion was largely thanks to me and sent it as a thank-you. Oh, and he made sure to add, "Just grabbed some random bottle rolling around the house."
What a tsundere.
The next day, after a delicious lunch at Aunt's Corear, I took my parents sightseeing around Madrid. For a few days, we stuck to the city, weaving in spots I'd visited back in school for that nostalgic vibe.
After Madrid, we headed farther out—through Zaragoza to Barcelona, where we stayed a few days hitting the famous spots.
I wanted to turn it into a real long trip and visit every landmark, but my early-20s stamina couldn't match my parents' over-50 energy.
After fun times in Barcelona, we hit Mallorca and Ibiza islands—our final stop.
Ibiza was packed with young people, and for good reason. It was the holy land of clubs... a truly sinful place.
But our family skipped the nightlife.
...Taking parents clubbing wouldn't fly anyway. And honestly, I wasn't that interested.
Thanks to Yuko, my sex drive was always taken care of. The urge to hit on some new girl just wasn't there.
Soccer was the priority in my life right now anyway. Sure, even the best food gets old if you eat it nonstop.
That's where Elena came in. We hadn't hooked up since that drunken night, but if I asked, she'd play coy then spread her legs for sure.
With partners from East and West covered, I ignored Ibiza's night scene entirely, focusing on making great memories with my parents.
This Spain trip was pure healing for our family. Feasting our eyes on stunning views, savoring delicious food with nose and tongue.
And just like that, the vacation ended.
"Make sure you eat properly. And don't forget to call Mom once a day."
Mom still saw me as her little boy. I chuckled and hugged her warmly.
"Don't worry. I'll call all the time. Remember what Aunt said? I'm adapting better than you think. Time to spoil you both now—just take care of your health, okay?"
Mom's eyes welled up again.
"Go on."
Dad, summing up the joy of the trip, seeing us healthy, pride in my success-chasing drive, hopes for even bigger wins ahead, and a simple "don't get hurt" in one laconic word.
I caught the sincerity in that brevity, grinned, and hugged him too.
While Mom stepped away to the bathroom, I quickly shoved a prepared envelope into Dad's pocket.
Seeing his surprised look, I grinned. "Emergency cash. And don't let Mom find out, got it?"
Dad stared silently at the envelope now tucked in his jacket, then slowly nodded.
Mom returned, putting a period on our father-son moment.
I watched until they passed security, then turned and left the airport.
Honestly... my steps felt heavy. Wouldn't see them for a while now.
Suddenly, I recalled what my goalkeeper hyung from Gimpo United days had said: Take care of your parents while they're alive... don't regret it like I did.
No idea why it popped up now. But I couldn't go back to Korea.
To chase my dream, I had to play here in Europe.
I steeled myself again. Time to make it huge on this European stage.
So my parents could be prouder of me than anyone.
...They probably already were.
Waiting to board the flight to Incheon, Cha Tae-oh's mother Han Mi-yeon glanced at her husband—Cha Tae-oh's father, Cha Dong-il—sitting beside her. She chuckled softly.
"Honey, how can a guy who smiles like a kid around me act all serious in front of Tae-oh? Isn't it tiring?"
She was right. Since parting with Tae-oh, Cha Dong-il had been grinning like a kid who'd gotten his dream toy.
The stern demeanor he'd maintained throughout the Spain trip was long gone.
"You wouldn't get it. You don't know how heavy the weight of being the family head is."
"Oh, please."
Truth was, Cha Dong-il used to be stoic and quiet even around his wife Han Mi-yeon. But at some point, he'd started talking more, flashing bright smiles at every chance.
Han Mi-yeon pondered when it began.
'Around when Tae-oh went to university, I think?'
After hearing he'd turned pro, Cha Dong-il had been buoyant often. Though that faded briefly during Tae-oh's dark days at Gimpo United, when he couldn't even make the bench.
But since signing his pro deal with AD Alcorcon, Cha Dong-il hadn't gone a day without a smile.
"Tae-oh takes after me—smart as hell. Never saw me study Spanish, but damn, sounding like a native? I get it now. Haha!"
Cha Dong-il laughed heartily, patting his chest. It should have been a light tap, but it thudded thickly somehow.
"How's that like you? I'm the smart one."
"Hm... Fine, looks are yours—he's handsome. But brains? No way, that's mine."
"Oh yeah? Weren't you saying he got his athleticism from you? Now brains too?"
"You take the looks, I'll take sports and smarts."
"Pass. Hehe."
Han Mi-yeon laughed out loud, playfully poking Cha Dong-il's side.
"Honey, just be yourself around Tae-oh too. Why go all serious just with him?"
"You wouldn't understand. Father-son bonds are like that."
"What nonsense. You're just awkward around him."
"...Can't deny that."
Han Mi-yeon muttered a bit regretfully. "Tae-oh would love seeing this side of you..."
"...Ahem."
Their bond wasn't bad, but showing his light side to Tae-oh felt strangely hard. Like he had to stay dignified, stern, serious—some inexplicable pressure.
"By the way, honey."
"Yeah?"
"Bet Tae-oh slipped you something..."
"...!"
Cha Dong-il's pupils quaked. Han Mi-yeon snickered, poking his side again.
"Right? Cash, huh? Knew it. How much? Told you not to tell Mom?"
"N-no, I didn't get anything... Really..."
"Oh? Lying now?"
"I-it's not... Well..."
Han Mi-yeon burst out laughing at her flustered husband.
"Puhaha! Honey, you think I'd steal it? It's from son to dad—I get it. And you think he only gave to you? He gave me money for a designer bag too."
"...Oh, really?"
Cha Dong-il finally smiled faintly, pulling out the envelope.
Han Mi-yeon snatched it with a wicked grin, tucking it into her bag.
"W-what are you doing?!"
"Confiscating it, duh."
"Confiscating...?!"
"Yup. Confiscated."
"N-no, that's not fair!"
"Please. I know exactly what you'd do—call up your buddies, brag about our son, buy rounds all night."
"Mmm..."
"Remember your last liver panel? Bad numbers. No booze. Get 'em healthy, and I'll allow it."
"...Sigh."
Han Mi-yeon smirked victoriously at her deflated husband.
'Add this to the bag money...'
She calculated mentally and grinned.
'A decent used car it is.'
Her husband's rattling old ride had bugged her forever. No more worries about it breaking down.
Her smile widened naturally.
"...Sigh."
Cha Dong-il's face, meanwhile, grew stonier by the second.