Chapter 4
Chapter 4
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Dani Castellano (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“There’s a video of your goal online.”
“Yeah?”
“Check out the comments. They’re hilarious.”
After the La Liga second-round match against Málaga wrapped up that weekend, Dad was buzzing like Captain Hook after snagging a fairy floating on a cloud.
His bragging made me feel good, but since I was still smack in the middle of puberty, I couldn’t help wondering if he’d really gone and read the comments. They were probably full of nasty stuff too.
“Eat some fruit too. The lady next door gave us this.”
“The lady next door?”
“She saw your goal and congratulated you with these.”
Definitely the short-haired redhead. Buying goodwill from a future soccer star with fruit? Not a bad move.
No, wait. Can’t get cocky. Scoring against Málaga doesn’t make me a locked-in first-team starter.
I still had a long way to go to compete with Castro on equal footing.
“What’re you up to today?”
“Gotta train. The club gave me a special recovery manual.”
“They have those?”
“They handed it out after I scored.”
Juan Naranjo, the fitness coach who’d grumbled about the high-tech training facility not coming to Gran Canaria until a couple years from now, had pressed it into my hands on the flight back after the match, insisting I follow the schedule to loosen up.
“Alright… I’ll be home, so swing by when you get a chance. Gotta have fun on rest days too.”
“Yeah.”
Dad backed off once I mentioned personal training.
Before making the first team, we’d hop on a ferry to Tenerife for fun on Sundays without games, but now that I had momentum, I was burning to focus on training.
Even if it was tough this year, next year I wanted to force Coach Pepe to weigh me and Castro on the same scale when picking his starters.
By then, Pedri would probably be back at Barcelona anyway, so worst case, I could switch positions and snag the spot he’d played.
I threw on workout clothes and headed out for a light jog.
The buildings in their bold primary colors always felt fresh. Some houses were slathered entirely in red paint, others looked like someone had just stacked Lego blocks.
The 7 Palmas building where I lived was like one massive beige Lego brick itself.
Past the quirky houses and apartments, down a narrow alley, and there were the yachts docked at the harbor.
They were packed so tight, you’d probably evacuate without much loss even if lava erupted on the island. Crazy that so many tourists come out to this remote spot just to yacht.
Enough random thoughts. Time to start recovery exercises at the park by Catalina Hospital. Jogging awaited.
The weekend ended, weekdays began, but my routine of school to training ground stayed the same.
Locals occasionally asked for autographs, but as the neighborhood’s one and only East Asian resident, their side-eyes were nothing new.
After classes, I dodged the packed cafeteria and headed to the training ground.
I planned to find a quiet spot en route to scarf down my lunch. Heading from the Max Pizza by the stadium toward the training ground, a car pulled up and the window rolled down. Dani Castellano.
“¡Niño coreano! Hop in!”
“…Nah, it’s right there.”
“Cars piling up behind. They’re dying to wait while you decide.”
Damn guy. I needed to eat lunch before hitting the training ground. My annoyed face must’ve shown, because Dani chuckled, teasing me as he blew right past the entrance.
“Don’t make that scary face, Your Highness. It’s freaking me out.”
“Cut the teasing and get to the training ground already.”
“Easy, relax. What’d you learn in school today, prince?”
Considering Dani was over thirty, I could put up with it once or twice.
Maybe he was jealous since he was getting old. The short-but-long ride ended, and I let him head into the training ground parking lot first as I walked.
“Why?”
“Haven’t eaten.”
“Lunch?”
I tapped my lunchbox in my bag for an audible reply.
Now leave me alone already—that was the message. Dani gave me this weird look I couldn’t read, shook his head, and walked off to the training ground.
I scoped out a grassy spot by the parking lot.
Same shady tree I’d eaten at during second-team days. I plopped down and shoveled in the half-eaten lunch.
Wasn’t uncomfortable, but anyone spotting me wouldn’t think kindly of it, so I aimed to finish fast and head in.
Dani Castellano. Remember that name. Damn jerk.
Halfway through the bibimbap I’d packed, familiar figures emerged from the training ground: the fitness coach with his stocky build and Dani, scanning the parking lot.
No time to hide—Juan Naranjo’s eyes locked on mine. Broad shoulders gleaming bald head, he beckoned me over.
I hastily packed up my half-eaten meal and trailed them into the training ground building.
Dani, who’d snitched on me, now scowled like something was off. Total slimeball. I thought he was decent despite the goofing around, but people aren’t what they seem.
Dani vanished somewhere before we entered Juan’s office, leaving me to sit and await judgment.
Was eating in the parking lot such a big deal? Is solo dining taboo in Spain? I felt wronged.
“Kim. What the hell were you doing eating in the parking lot?”
“Coach, it’s just…”
“You’re a pro. Las Palmas first-team player.”
“I was hungry.”
Wish my Spanish was better. Regret hit late. I just hated the crowded school cafeteria.
What’s “crowded” in Spanish again? How to explain?
“So, I don’t like lots of people. Being alone is nice.”
“…”
“Wanted to eat alone. That’s it. Nothing else.”
“Kim, if there’s a problem, tell me straight.”
Coach went dead serious, saying weird stuff. My shaky Spanish must’ve caused a misunderstanding, but the problem was I couldn’t even grasp what it was.
“Messing up the conversation. Hard to understand.”
“Okay, I’ll go slow. Tough being on the first team?”
“Nah. Nothing like that. Loving it now. Scoring, playing—best.”
“What about the training ground, outside matches? Close with any players?”
Coach’s darkening face frustrated me.
The topic had veered weird all of a sudden. How long had I even been on the first team? I hadn’t gotten close to anyone in the second team all year either.
As I hesitated, Coach gave me this “I get it” look. Maddening.
“Anyone bullying you on the team? Anyone at all. I’ll keep it from Coach Pepe.”
What nonsense was this? What the hell did that psycho Dani say?
“No, nothing like that.”
“…Okay.”
“Really not.”
I half-pleaded, wronged and baffled. Then it hit me: me squatting in the lot, chowing half-mixed bibimbap, might look pathetic to Coach.
“I was just eating!”
“Alright, calm down. Won’t tell a soul. But promise me something.”
“What?”
“No more solo lunches before training. With me. Okay? Or I’ll have to call your parents. You’re a minor, and as one of the club’s head coaches, I’ve got responsibilities. Promise?”
“…Fine.”
Dani, you’re dead. I’ll kill you for sure.
Juan sighed softly and said to finish my meal in his office first. He pulled an energy bar from his desk for me. Eyeing him, I dug out my lunchbox.
Coach looked rough. If he’d seen before I mixed in the gochujang, his eyes wouldn’t be like that, but now even I had no good excuse.
Yeah, it did look a bit like dog food.