Vs. Chelsea (1)
The so-called pile-on hate had noticeably vanished.
Maybe it was because they’d just lived through a 5–1 thrashing.
People really are something else.
To be fair, even I had to admit the last match had been pretty disappointing. Losing was one thing—losing like that was another. You couldn’t even dress it up as a “we lost but we fought hard.”
I scrolled through a few more articles. Plenty of them were already questioning the manager’s ability.
…He’s getting the boot, right?
He’d already shown shaky form last match, and the public backlash was loud enough that the next press conference would almost certainly seal it.
I was still smiling faintly at an article about myself when Jia noona suddenly flinched against my shoulder.
She was awake.
“…Did I fall asleep?”
“Yeah.”
“For how long?”
“About ten minutes?”
She hadn’t even slept that long, yet she still looked at me with worried eyes and gently rubbed my shoulder.
She really did have her cute moments.
“Sorry. Is your shoulder okay?”
“It’s fine. You were cute.”
Even the way she fretted over me right now was adorable—how could her sleeping face not be?
She seemed to take the compliment as a joke, though.
“Should we just stay up tonight?”
“…Why? I have training tomorrow.”
Something about that made me uneasy. What was she planning if we didn’t sleep?
“Mmm… tormenting Yujin?”
“Pretty sure you’d be the one getting tormented.”
“Heh. Then maybe we really shouldn’t sleep.”
“Haha. We still need to sleep.”
“I’m not letting you.”
“You have to go out tomorrow too.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m not fine.”
“Do you hate me?”
“…I like you a ridiculous amount.”
Jia noona kept teasing me, climbed into bed, and we ended up fooling around for a full hour before we somehow managed to fall asleep.
I briefly considered going live, but I didn’t think I could handle the flood of reactions, so I just slept quietly with her instead.
I’m happy.
Every single day lately felt like a dream—and an enjoyable one. I still left for work early, but I got to sleep next to Jia noona. And that “work” was heading to the Emirates Stadium to play football.
It was the life I’d only ever imagined.
“Good morning.”
“Oh. Yujin, you’re here?”
A few players were still away on international duty, but everyone present exchanged greetings like it was nothing.
“Oh. Look who it is—Ddolgaeng-i.”
“Huh? You’re here too, hyung?”
Hong Seoin, who’d played in the A-match the day before, had still shown up for training today.
“Yeah. Gotta show up.”
“You look completely fine.”
Even after a 5–1 loss, there wasn’t a trace of gloom on him.
“I scored, so I’m fine.”
Hong Seoin’s early opener. That was the one thing that had let Korea keep any dignity at all.
We trained together, then headed out for lunch. Destination: the Korean restaurant we somehow managed to visit seven days a week. It was just too good not to.
“Ddolgaeng-a.”
“Yeah?”
“You never talk casual with me?”
“Casual speech?”
“Yeah.”
I could talk to Seoin hyung the same way I talked to Jia noona if I wanted. I just didn’t, because I was only used to doing it with her.
“Isn’t polite speech better, though? Makes me feel more like the little brother.”
“I don’t care either way.”
“Then I’ll stick with this.”
“Look at you, all proper.”
Hong Seoin snorted a laugh and slung an arm around my shoulders. I turned my head and gently peeled his arm off.
“…Could you give me a little space?”
“What, you hate me?”
“Hyung. Have you ever tried saying that to a girl? They’d all fall for you.”
Anyone with eyes would call him handsome, and he was wasting that face on lines like that directed at me.
“Not interested yet.”
“Then never mind. It’s not that I hate you—it’s just hot.”
“Already hot?”
“Yeah. Too much heat.”
Late March already counted as hot weather for me.
As Hong Seoin and I walked the streets of London, people started recognizing us. I’d worn glasses specifically for this, but they seemed to be having the opposite effect.
“Yujin, those glasses look amazing on you.”
“Haha. Thank you.”
I kept hearing the same thing every time someone took a photo. Maybe I should just stop trying to hide.
“Good luck in the match!”
“Thanks. See you next time.”
“Ddolgaeng-a, let’s go.”
“Yeah. Coming.”
Hong Seoin finished a quick round of fan service and we continued toward the restaurant. We’d almost arrived when I bumped shoulders with someone walking with their eyes on the ground.
“Ah, sorry—”
“No, I’m more sorry—”
I apologized in Korean out of habit, and heard my mother tongue come right back.
“…Baek Yujin?”
My eyes went wide as I looked at him.
“You’re Korean?”
“Ah… yes. Are you… by any chance Baek Yujin the player?”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
A Korean in London. That was rare.
“University student?”
“Yes. I’m studying abroad.”
“Oh! That’s impressive. Eating alone?”
“Uh… yeah?”
“Want to join us?”
“W-what about… Seoin-nim…?”
“Hyung, you okay with it?”
“I’m fine.”
“He says it’s fine. Feel free to say no if it’s awkward.”
The guy’s shoulders drooped a little, then he hurriedly nodded.
“N-no, it’s okay. Let’s eat together.”
“Yeah? We’re heading to a Korean place right now. Come on.”
In the end we ate together at the restaurant, and we paid for his meal.
(partially mosaicked student ID)
I’m a student studying abroad in London.
(…snip…)
Anyway, the point: there’s this one famous Korean restaurant in London, right? I’d heard Yujin and Hong Seoin show up there every now and then.
Today on the way there I literally bumped into Yujin and ended up eating with them;
Don’t get the wrong idea—they offered to treat me first. For real.
I thought it’d be awkward, but the kid must’ve sensed it because he kept talking to me super gently the whole time. He speaks so well I kept wondering if he was really younger than me;
I expected Seoin hyung to be all quiet, but he laughed a lot and that kind of shocked me……
Felt like Yujin was doing most of the heavy lifting socially. He’s the same gender as me and I still thought he was cute. Watching the two of them talk just made me feel warm inside.
(selfie with Baek Yujin and Hong Seoin)
Both of them being that handsome is just cheating. Still don’t get how Hong Seoin doesn’t have a girlfriend……
First day I haven’t regretted studying abroad in London.
Time flew, and suddenly it was match day—the first league game after the Champions League fixture.
Matchweek 30 against Chelsea.
No matter how many times I played, the anticipation never dulled.
Even the locker-room banter before warm-ups felt fresh.
“Yujin. How many are you scoring today?”
“When you ask it like that it sounds like I can score whenever I feel like it.”
“Was that not the case?”
“Haha!!”
Wright’s joke lifted the whole room.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
Players started heading out one or two at a time to warm up. I was one of the last through the tunnel.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
The applause swelled. The Emirates Stadium crowd began to stir.
The moment I fully stepped into view, the stands erupted as if on cue.
“Yujin!”
“Young Hero!”
“Save Arsenal!”
“….”
That was definitely for me.
I blinked, then raised a hand and waved. The roar only grew louder.
“Yujin! Young Hero of the East!”
“…Why are they like that?”
I asked Wright out of genuine curiosity.
“Yujin. You scored a hat-trick at home in the Champions League. The home fans have fully accepted you.”
“…I did play well that day.”
Whether it was because of the promise or something else, my body had felt ridiculously light and the goals had come almost easily.
“Even if you call it luck, they still accepted you. Just enjoy it.”
“Just enjoy it?”
“Yeah. What’s the point of feeling pressure here? The gaffer’ll say something similar, so keep that in mind.”
“Mm… got it.”
Enjoy it, huh.
Good advice. If you can’t avoid it, you might as well enjoy it.
But I had no intention of avoiding anything—and no intention of not enjoying it either.
I would face it head-on and enjoy every second.
I waved both arms and clapped back at the stands, urging them to cheer louder while I loosened up. Every clean trap drew fresh applause and shouts, and it felt good.
Different from the first time.
I’d done the same trapping drills during my very first warm-up here, but back then there hadn’t been applause or cheers like this. Just a quiet “oh, so that’s how he plays.” I hadn’t been famous yet, so no one thought much of it.
Now that I had a little recognition and was getting this kind of reception, there was no going back.
This feels too good.
I still wasn’t nervous. Knowing people were expecting something from me only made me want to play even better.
Becoming one with the Arsenal fans was more thrilling than I’d ever imagined.