A Hat-Trick for Dinner
The guys only ever think about messing with me. In the end I got zero real advice and became nothing but their entertainment.
Haa, texting is seriously hard. I’ve barely ever had proper conversations with girls over text. On top of that, the whole vibe between Spain and Korea is completely different. And since my teammates’ advice was worthless, it made things even harder.
…Never mind that.This is actually exciting.
The moment I tried to turn my phone off and head home, Hugo called out to me.
“Hey, Lee.”
I figured he was about to spout more nonsense about going to find Hayun’s house.
“If you pull off a hat-trick this time, ask her to buy you a meal.”
“…Huh?”
“She’s an Espanyol fan, right? Scoring a hat-trick and beating Barca would fulfill the longtime wish of every Perico. The least she could do is treat you to a meal, yeah?”
“Oh.”
“Ask her to buy you food. If she says okay, that’s a date. If she turns you down, I’ll just introduce you to some girls.”
Hugo Romero? Never heard of him. The only person I know is Espanyol’s great captain, the eternal captain, my love, my life, my role model—big bro Hugo.
“…That actually sounds good.”
“Right? Go for it. The key is to toss it out there casually.”
“Why did your tone suddenly get so lame?”
“You told me to toss it out there casually!”
“Doesn’t that just make you look like a loser?”
“…Then what am I supposed to say?”
Wait, that wasn’t right either?
“Dude, what the hell? Why are you turning into such a dork all of a sudden?”
“Just say something like, ‘After the match, want to grab a bite together?’ That’s all you need to ask.”
“Or you could test the waters with ‘My schedule’s free after the game, want to have dinner together?’”
“Lee, are you brain-dead?”
John and Hugo started rapid-fire roasting me.
…Then you should’ve told me that from the start. This is so fucking embarrassing.
“Should I delete the message?”
“…Forget it. Just let me introduce you to some girls.”
“You’re telling me to give up on Hayun?”
“Give up? You haven’t even been on a single date yet.”
That was when it happened.
“Ohhh shit!!”
It worked?!
“Being good at soccer really is the best after all,” Hugo said. Everyone nodded in agreement.
Is that how it is? Then I want to get even better—way better—at soccer.
It was 10 p.m. Kim Hayun had just finished showering. She flopped onto her bed feeling refreshed, sent Suhyuk a good-night text, then let out a small laugh as she scrolled back through their chat.
Whenever she asked him something, he answered with the most carefully chosen, short replies. Maybe it was because she hadn’t talked to someone her own age in Korean in a while, but his pure, straightforward answers reminded her of childhood.
With all her usual bold Western makeup removed, Hayun’s cute bare face broke into another smile.
“This guy is seriously adorable.”
Just thinking about talking to Suhyuk at school tomorrow already felt fun. He had that slightly out-of-this-world side to him, after all.
We’re just friends, but it feels like something more interesting than that.
She thought it was hilarious how he literally froze like ice every time a girl spoke to him. He got along great with the guys, yet turned stiff and awkward the second a girl tried to talk to him. What was the word for it? A model student who had zero interest in the opposite sex?
Right then, another text popped up.
“Pffft—!!”
She couldn’t hold back the laughter. It burst out of her so hard it was almost undignified. Where on earth had he learned to text like that? Who taught him that cringey elementary-school vibe?
If anyone else had sent a message like that, she would have read it and ignored them. But seeing someone who normally seemed completely uninterested in girls suddenly write like this was just too funny.
This guy really only knows soccer. What an idiot.
Then, before she even realized it, another thought floated up.
Heh… cute.
With that, she typed her reply.
Time flew by. Before anyone knew it, it was the day before Derby Vision.
In the Barcelona Derby, the FC Barcelona fans didn’t feel even the slightest tension. Why would an overwhelmingly dominant team get nervous against an underdog? Still, the stands would be packed. Everyone would buy tickets just to watch the slaughter, enjoy the show, and mock the Espanyol supporters.
On the other hand, the Espanyol fans—the Pericos—waited for the match with gritted teeth. They were the ones who always desperately longed to see Barca lose. No one thought of it as “just a youth game.” No matter how young the players were, they were the prospects who would one day carry Espanyol. They were the club’s proud representatives.
The Pericos wanted to wash away the humiliation of getting eaten alive by the Cules every single time.
The Spanish football community was already on fire. In the local football forum where Cules and Pericos gathered most often:
La Masia had put together a balanced lineup for this Derby—players already confirmed for promotion to Athletic mixed with monstrous prospects who could force their way onto the B team any day. One of those was Ebrima Tunkara, a 2010-born player who, like Suhyuk, had been fast-tracked from the U-17s to the U-18s. He was even on the Spanish youth national team and already being called the next Lamine Yamal.
When the Cules started running the thread, the Pericos who had been quietly reading finally jumped in.
Suhyuk’s classmate and seatmate Carlos had posted on the community. That single comment became the laughingstock of the forum for the entire day.
The next day. Finally, one hour before the Barcelona Derby.
After loosening up in the locker room, we sat down to listen to the manager’s speech. He spent a long time explaining the key points of the tactic for this match, then looked each player in the eye.
“I’ve seen you all doing extra training lately. You’ve all gotten surprisingly close.”
The players who had grown closer while teasing me and Hayun let out small laughs. I was pretty shocked the manager had seen those sessions.
“To be honest, I was surprised. Even a month ago I wasn’t sure whether we were a team that could face Barca without being afraid.”
The locker room fell silent.
“The cracks in the team caused by my own incompetence. The familiarity with defeat that came with it.”
…
“We thought we would lose. When we conceded, we hung our heads. When the match ended, we looked for excuses first. That was me until now—and all of you too.”
…
“But not anymore. We can finally bring out the tactics we’ve practiced in a real game. It’s a tactic we can only use because we’ve become one team and because we trust each other. Right?”
“Yes!”
“Outside, they call us underdogs. I think that’s natural. We are Espanyol and they are Barcelona. This city’s face has never been us.”
The manager glared at the tactics board, then shifted his gaze to me.
“Today, we become this city’s face. Even if it’s only for one day, the name that echoes through the streets will be ours.”
“…!”
“Don’t think of it as just a youth match. For today, you are the face of Espanyol, and those idiots from La Masia are the face of Barca.”
“Understood!”
We walked through the tunnel. Just for today. Out of so many days, for this single day, the owners of this city would be us.