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The first time Park Sunghoon met Kim Sunoo, Sunghoon was 18 and Kim Sunoo was 17. Sunghoon was a freshman at university on a sports scholarship for soccer, with prospects as limitless as stars in the night sky, while Kim Sunoo was a newly debuted star that went viral overnight.
Sunghoon wouldn’t say he was completely off the loop when it came to celebrities, but he hadn’t heard of Kim Sunoo until one of his teammates, a senior by two years, shoved a phone in front of his face right before practice one day.
He couldn’t exactly leave since his senior had his arm around his shoulder quite firmly, forcing him to stare at some music video on his screen. It was frankly hard to listen to the actual music with all the noise going on in the locker room, but the set looked colorful and something out of a children’s movie, an abundance of pastel colors and CGI forest critters.
Not really Sunghoon’s style.
That was Sunghoon’s last thought before his eyes zeroed in on the singer that appeared on screen from behind a CGI tree trunk. Rosy cheeks, even rosier lips tilted upwards, dark pupils on coy eyes cutting through the screen to spear through Sunghoon’s chest—he only had a second to feel like a bus ran him over before another of his seniors was squealing on his ear loudly.
“Oh my god, is that Kim Sunoo? Make some room!”
Sunghoon found himself squished between two sweaty teammates but not for long, because it seemed the moment the name Kim Sunoo left his senior’s lips, the entire soccer team crowded around them to also watch the music video.
Sunghoon couldn’t understand why they couldn’t look up the video on their own damn phones.
The overall excitement of his teammates over this video was strange enough, but even more strange was the way Sunghoon could not unglue his eyes from the boy on the video. He wasn’t sure what the storyline behind the video was, but it didn’t matter to him. The boy was dashing enough to command Sunghoon’s attention the whole time.
The sequins in the boy’s costume would sometimes catch the light and project onto the canvas that was the smooth, smooth skin of his pale neck and jaw. Sunghoon felt like clenching his teeth all of a sudden.
He’s dressed like some fairytale prince, Sunghoon thought. How fitting.
His teammates cheered and clapped when the video ended, as if they were in a concert venue and not in some stinky boys’ locker room. They all slowly went back to finish grabbing their stuff for early morning practice, chatting animatedly. His senior on his right, the one that had shown him the video, was giving him a sly grin, eyebrows comically arched up.
“So, what do you think about our Kim Sunoo?”
Sunghoon resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose at the use of “our.”
“Uh, he seems fun,” he cautiously commented, not wanting to upset him. “Nice song.”
The other nodded enthusiastically, seemingly satisfied with that answer.
“Great song, deserving of being #1 in all streaming sites right now,” he boasted, as if it was his own song he was talking about, “and going viral on Tik Tok outside of Korea as well.”
“As expected of 'perfect idol' Kim Sunoo,” threw in another of his teammates, who had apparently been listening in to their conversation. “Those visuals truly deserved to be shared with the rest of the world.”
Sunghoon resisted the urge to huff at that despite having had similar thoughts. He had always been complimented himself because of his looks, but it usually kept most people at bay, too shy to approach him. This Kim Sunoo seemed to draw everybody in like moths to a flame, eager to praise the guy on his beauty.
“What he needs to do is leave that good for nothing boyfriend of his,” chimed in one of Sunghoon’s classmates, the only other Freshman on the team. “What does he even see in a guy like that? He’s not even half as good-looking as Kim Sunoo and he’s way older than him.”
“Well, they’ve dated for many years now,” explained his senior, who Sunghoon realized was probably a big fan of Kim Sunoo with how much he knew about him, “that just goes to show that Kim Sunoo doesn’t care about looks but about what’s in here.”
He pointed to his chest.
“Well, I would treat him right,” one of the older guys said with a laugh. “I know how to be a gentleman on the streets and a freak on the sheets.”
“Stop being disgusting,” berated the team captain, lining them up to start warming up. “If you have this much energy to conjure these types of images in your head, that means you have enough energy to run ten more laps today.”
A collective groan left the mouths of the group, but they all hurriedly complied before the coaches arrived.
Sunghoon lost himself to his routine easily after that, his training and daily activities capturing back his attention. The date was not of note for Sunghoon at the time, but he started seeing Kim Sunoo everywhere he went after that day.
All of a sudden Sunghoon couldn’t escape the idol’s face—a number of popular products hiring him as CF representative of their brands seemingly overnight. He couldn’t escape the idol’s voice—all the radios in the country blasting his debut song everywhere. All the guys he knew started using berets and silk ties, all Kim Sunoo’s trademarks, and the idol was solely responsible for the rising popularity of cell phone charms these days when he showed off his on some variety show.
Sunghoon, who usually abhorred following fades and remained somewhat reserved when it came to what was popular amongst his peers, was a little embarrassed to realize just how much he liked Kim Sunoo. Somehow knowing that everybody and their mothers also did was not enough to smother that shameful flutter in his chest anyways.
Kim Sunoo quickly went from the moniker 'perfect idol' to 'perfect boyfriend' amongst his fans, and people describing their ideal types on popular forums would simply comment 'Kim Sunoo' and receive thousands of upvotes.
It probably wasn’t an exaggeration to say that the entire country had fallen in love with the idol, the young and the old finding him equally charming. He was actually dubbed as 'the nation’s darling' by a popular news site and the nickname stuck. He could do no wrong. It was as if Kim Sunoo had developed a Midas touch, bringing success to any project he partook in, and Sunghoon didn’t expect the idol to ruin all this with a controversy any time soon.
Sunghoon could somehow tell, though—call it intuition if you will—but he could tell that Kim Sunoo the idol did not come about without effort and hard work, a result of hours and hours of practice, his image perfectly curated to please.
And please Sunghoon it did.
Sunghoon’s music library had all of Kim Sunoo’s releases including B-sides and were featured in many of Sunghoon’s workout playlists. Despite the good music, Sunghoon lamented the fact that the Kim Sunoo hype would probably die down after a year or so just like all the other viral stars before him, but in the blink of an eye, four years had come and gone by and the idol was more popular than ever before.
Four years had also passed for Sunghoon. University had gone by in a blur of practice, injuries, more practice, even more practice, games, more games, scouts, some more practice, even more games, more scouts and then, abruptly, graduation. And then, team offers.
Home and international team offers.
Sunghoon was realistic about his skills and felt justified in assuming that he would get at least two club offers based on what he knew was a solid performance out on the field. It never occurred to him that he would receive this particular offer when one morning he spotted the thick, cream-colored envelope with a familiar coat of arms emblazoned on front. He refused to believe what he was seeing until he had read the content of said envelope three times to make sure he was seeing correctly.
'Did you hear? Senior Park Sunghoon got an offer from the Manchester United Football Club to join their youth farm system this upcoming fall,' the rumor mill around Sunghoon’s university had reported.
"Mom, Dad," Sunghoon gulped. "I’m going to England!"
Sunghoon would remember this conversation with his family for many years to come. He had never been apart from his family, his relationship with his parents and sister more tight-knit than a lot of his acquaintances’ relationships with their families were. However, Sunghoon was unwilling to look back and regret not taking this opportunity.
It was time for tearful goodbyes, for packing a lifetime of belongings and memories in containers to ship off to another continent. He had dedicated his life to this path after all, ever since at five years old he’d boldly proclaimed he was going to be a soccer player when he grew up. He had worked non-stop to make this a reality since then, and his family had made a lot of sacrifices for him to get where he was to hesitate now.
Sunghoon found himself on a plane to meet his fate across the world by the end of that fateful summer.
The first time Park Sunghoon met Kim Sunoo in person, Sunghoon was 23 and Kim Sunoo was 22. Sunghoon was the fresh meat in the Manchester United F. C., still fighting for a chance to make his debut into the world stage, while Kim Sunoo already had the world under his pretty little heel.
Sunghoon knew, in theory, that people in his home country were proud of his accomplishments in the international soccer sphere, his family never failing to send the links of all mentions of his name in any article or sports interview. He also knew, in theory, that this made him somewhat famous. What he did not know was that he was famous enough until one of the front office reps informed him that International Superstar Kim Sunoo wanted to stop by Old Trafford the day after tomorrow and watch their training. Sunghoon’s training.
Sunghoon was sure that what he was currently experiencing was shock. Did he just win the Super Lotto? Was it pathetic to be this shaken at the possibility of meeting an idol when he was in the same team as veritable soccer legends? Sunghoon honestly couldn’t care less if that was the case.
Some of the newer recruits like Sunghoon found out about Kim Sunoo coming to observe their training and hooted, excited to meet the star as well. It wasn’t that long ago that he had achieved a #2 album on Billboard and gained huge international attention outside of Asia, but they couldn’t possibly know who Kim Sunoo was to Sunghoon.
His college years had had a Kim Sunoo soundtrack with how much Sunghoon had listened to his music back then (still does). On cold morning runs, to boost his mood. On balmy evenings at the gym in strength training, to push through one last rep. On colorful and loud nights at some college party his seniors had cajoled him into attending, to lose himself for a minute and actually enjoy being young.
Apparently, the idol was in the UK to receive a popularity award, and part of his sightseeing adventures would include observing Park Sunghoon during practice.
Sunghoon pinched himself.
That night, he sat in the common room, remote tightly gripped in hand and ass parked in the couch ready to watch the awards show. It seemed like an eternity and a half before Kim Sunoo was announced as the next performer.
When Kim Sunoo finally appeared on screen, Sunghoon was both the most and least prepared to see him he had ever been. It somehow felt real just then that he was going to meet the idol in person in less than 48 hours. He didn’t sleep a wink that night. Or the next.
His dormmates kept eyeing him throughout breakfast the morning of D-day. Sunghoon did not mistake their looks for concern; he knew that look—the look of a rival seizing its opponent’s wounds in order to strike true and emerge victorious. They weren’t teammates yet. After all, not everybody would make it to the first string. They were probably glad Sunghoon was not in top shape at that moment because any advantage over another could be the difference between staying or being flushed out of the system.
Sunghoon felt like literal shit. His exhaustion was incapacitating enough he had been stretching for 10 minutes before he even realized he was out on the field. He let the coaches’ instructions wash over him like white noise. It was easy to do since his English was not quite where it should be yet.
They had been practicing half-court kicks somewhat successfully (some of Sunghoon’s were going a little wide), when the head assistant barked his name from the sidelines. Expecting a scolding, Sunghoon made his way towards him with his face downcast. Right before reaching him, Sunghoon looked up, and without his permission, his eyes went straight behind the assistant into the bleachers.
Standing there, bundled up in a dark winter coat, blood red scarf around his neck and smiling blood red lips, stood Kim Sunoo. Sunghoon almost missed the hand wrapped around Kim Sunoo’s waist and the man connected to that hand.
Must be that producer boyfriend of his.
The only thing separating Sunghoon from Kim Sunoo was a banister and a couple of steps. Not trusting himself, he leaned his weight on the railing and looked up at the pair. At Kim Sunoo.
“Hello,” a voice he’d only heard in recordings until now greeted. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Kim Sunoo.”
Sunghoon didn’t think he could go back to only recordings after this.
“Everyone knows who you are, baby. You don’t need to introduce yourself.”
Kim Sunoo merely wrinkled his nose at the dude and smiled somewhat sheepishly at Sunghoon. Sunghoon felt like clutching his chest. Is he too young to have a heart attack?
The boyfriend certainly did not introduce himself and immediately launched into a tirade, unprompted, on how he’d been to a number of championship games all over the world, had talked to a number of former and actual Manchester players, and boasted about all the insider knowledge he had about the upcoming trades.
Sunghoon felt his polite smile crack on his face, struggling to keep it on and nodding interestedly when appropriate. If he kept stealing looks at Kim Sunoo under his fringe, no one was none the wiser. He kept expecting the idol to be louder, more talkative, like on variety shows. Break into song, do the complex choreographies like in the fancams.
Kim Sunoo did none of those things. He was calmly standing next to his man, nodding along and unconsciously pouting his lips here and there in concentration. Kim Sunoo was so normal and right in front of him, close enough to see how his eyelids were a bit swollen, a bit reddened, but eyes flitting around like a hummingbird would. Close enough to see the puffs of sparkling condensation that left him because of the cold. His hands were clasped in front of him, and Sunghoon frowned when he noticed they were colored an angry tint of red.
Slowly, wanting to draw as little attention to himself as possible, Sunghoon slipped his gloves off his hands. The boyfriend was too busy looking for a picture on his phone he took with Maguire and Fernandes at some party to notice, so he lifted the gloves up for Kim Sunoo to take.
The idol whipped his gaze down to meet his—a moment so charged Sunghoon almost took the gloves back—and opened his mouth to say something but didn’t. Kim Sunoo’s slim, pale hand finally reached for the pair and tugged them on, delicate hands now hidden from view.
Only then Sunghoon felt like he could breathe. The boyfriend found the picture and showed it to him; Sunghoon made sure to appear impressed enough. It didn’t seem he had noticed the exchange at all.
A sharp whistle in the back signaled the start of the daily skirmishes. Sunghoon winced. He couldn’t believe he had to go back already.
“You have to go, huh?” Kim Sunoo softly said, somehow voicing his thoughts. “Thank you for your time.”
Sunghoon’s mouth wanted to hang open.
“No—, I—, no, thank you for your time, I can’t believe—, It was good. Fun.”
Nailed it.
The boyfriend leaned over the banister to fist bump him, wishing him well. Sunghoon saw him squeeze Kim Sunoo’s side, turning him to go.
“Bye-bye, Park Sunghoon,” Kim Sunoo threw over his shoulder, eyes crinkled in a devastating way. “Continue doing well.”
Sunghoon was ready to win his team three championships right then and there.
He wanted to coolly run back to the field and join practice, not once looking back, but Sunghoon didn’t turn his full attention to practice until the pair had left the bleachers through one of the side exits. Practice really kicked his ass the rest of the day.
He finally made his way into the dorm at the end of the evening. He was still thinking of doing a night run later but he wanted a chance to call his parents and sister for a bit. He stopped short when he saw a guy he most definitely did not know come out of his room and close the door behind him.
The guy saw him and stopped, hand still on the doorknob, though he didn’t look particularly guilty. If anything, he looked unimpressed.
“Oh, it’s you,” he remarked. “I get it now.”
“Get what?” Sunghoon reflexively asked, then frowned. “Who are you? What were you doing in my room?”
“I’m Yang Jungwon,” he held a business card towards Sunghoon. “I’m Kim Sunoo’s manager.”
The business card only read 'Yang Jungwon' and a Korean number scribbled right underneath. Sunghoon wasn’t sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
“Okay, Yang Jungwon,” Sunghoon acknowledged slowly. “What were you doing in my room?”
The guy shrugged. Shrugged handsomely. Can good-looking people be managers to the stars?
“Just my job. See you around,” he walked past Sunghoon like it was nothing and left.
He stood there for a good ten seconds trying to put his thoughts in order before going into his room. On his desk sat a meter-high gift basket.
He approached it cautiously, and grabbed the card sticking out. The message was typed out:
I know being away from home can be hard, especially close to the holidays. I hope this gift basket makes it a bit easier.
-the Kim Sunoo Team
The gift basket was filled with all sorts of snacks from back home, even some that Sunghoon hadn’t had since he was a child. It really felt like Christmas had come early. He was arranging his goodies in piles of things he wanted to keep for himself and piles he was going to share with his roommate when he noticed a small parcel sitting right behind the basket.
It was wrapped in plain brown paper and had some cute stickers haphazardly placed all over its front. In permanent marker, somebody had hastily written 'Park Sunghoon.'
Curiosity piqued, he unwrapped the package and found his gloves and a keychain. A Big Ben keychain. Sunghoon laughed, endeared, spinning the little keychain on his finger. It was one of those keychains you could get at the souvenir shop after a tour at the Tower.
He grabbed his gloves and—
Would it be weird if he—?
He smelled the gloves.
Yep, definitely weird.
Not sure what Sunghoon was expecting but the gloves smelt freshly laundered. When did Kim Sunoo even have the time to wash his freaking gloves?
The gift basket was already gift enough, but Sunghoon felt close to swooning at the gloves and keychain. He chose to believe that Kim Sunoo had gotten the keychain himself, wrapped the parcel himself, placed the stickers himself, and not left it all up to his cute manager, who did not look the type to use cute stickers at all if his impassive face was anything to go by.
His roommate walked in at that moment and stopped at all the mess in Sunghoon’s desk. Renan, who was Brazilian, was not exactly friendly but he also wasn’t unfriendly, so Sunghoon liked him just fine.
“Food?” he asked, extending a package of Honey Butter Chips. Renan smiled at him and accepted the chips. Sunghoon promised to himself that he'd call his family tomorrow night instead.
Laying in bed some time later, he had a nagging thought that wouldn’t let him sleep. He reached for his phone and stared at his lockscreen (a picture of Leo Messi wearing his F.C. Barcelona jersey) before making a grab for the business card he had shoved under his pillow.
He saved the number under the contact name of Yang Manager and locked his phone. Then unlocked it again. He opened his messages and started typing out something before promptly deleting it. He re-typed what he had deleted and added an emoji. Then deleted the emoji.
23:27
Thank you so much for the gift basket. Please thank Kim Sunoo properly for me.
23:28
Also thank him for returning the gloves. He didn’t need to do that, they were his to keep. I have other pairs.
This is Park Sunghoon btw.
He put his phone down, not expecting a quick response, but was surprised to hear his phone ping almost right away.
23:29
???
Sunghoon had all of three seconds to feel “???” himself before he saw the little bubble indicating the other person was typing.
23:30
Consider me properly thanked😁
Nooo I couldn’t leave you gloveless!! What if your fingers fell off and you couldn’t play soccer anymore…🤯😱
This is Kim Sunoo btw 😊
Sunghoon’s phone fell on his face. Hard.
His stomach dropped when he realized that he had accidentally sent “grjylfjt” when scrambling to pick up his phone.
23:32
Grjylfjt to you too😝
Sooo did you like your keychain????
Sunghoon was torn between gushing and trying to save whatever little dignity he had left.
23:36
Yeah, it’s really cute!
23:27
I haven’t been to the Big Ben yet so I really like it.
Sunghoon couldn’t believe he had just lied about visiting the Big Ben. Why did he do that?
Sunoo’s reply came surprisingly fast again.
23:38
Omgggggg 😳😱😨 no way!!!! you live in the uk now and you haven’t been to the big ben?!!! 🤯
Next thing you’re gonna tell me is that you’ve never ridden one of those big red buses!!!!!
Sunghoon quickly typed back, still in disbelief at just who he was currently texting.
23:40
You mean the double decker buses? Yes, of course I have.
23:43
Phewww!! That’s a relief! there might be hope for you just yet🥸
He didn’t know how to respond to that, but he didn’t want to stop texting Kim Sunoo just yet. Fortunately, Kim Sunoo was an enthusiastic texter and did not need much to go on from, it seemed. His image was a complete 180 from earlier, where he had been quiet but polite. Sunghoon felt it really was a shame that they couldn’t talk like this face to face. He ignored the little voice in his head that said he would’ve been too nervous to talk to him face to face like this anyways.
He valiantly fought sleep but his eyes closed on their own accord at some point during the night. Since the morning bell woke him with just enough time to get changed and head to the field, he couldn’t check his phone and see where the conversation had left off until much later.
Sunghoon had answered a text from Kim Sunoo asking him about his favorite tea now that he was living in England (he had answered “Uh, bubble tea” as a joke) and hadn’t gotten a response since. Sunghoon deflated and felt like wallowing for the rest of the day. So much for wanting to be funny.
That night he called his family and was about to tell them about meeting Kim Sunoo (texting with Kim Sunoo!!!!!) but stopped himself. He didn’t think they would believe him. Heck, it sounded pretty unbelievable to him and he had lived through the experience. Also, a part of him wanted to keep this a secret for some reason. He shoved a choco pie into his mouth and held his tongue.
The first time Park Sunghoon played as a first string in a league game for the Manchester United F.C., he was 24 and he played a total of 18 minutes and 30 seconds before he got sent back to the bench.
Those were the best 18 minutes and 30 seconds of his life. He was far from the Park Sunghoon that had arrived at boot camp more than a year ago. He no longer had anything in his life that wasn’t soccer. Not even Kim Sunoo, who he hadn’t heard from since that eventful day. But that was ok. Sunghoon had a lot going on. He couldn’t spend any more time on idols, even if they were the perfect idol.
Some of the people that had been scouted at around the same time as he did started dropping out like flies. Sunghoon had to say goodbye to Renan four months after his first game. That only solidified more the urgency of staying ahead of everybody else, pushing himself harder during training and even more so during games. His game time increased little by little over the next year and a half to the point he was playing entire halves before being sent back to the bench.
Despite the accomplishment, he felt barely held together by a stitch. He couldn’t talk as often to his family as he would like these days, and the feeling of loneliness increased tenfold. He didn’t really befriend anyone else, but at least the regulars had a grudging respect for him now. English was no longer a barrier for communication, but Sunghoon’s cautious and taciturn disposition was.
Some nights, despite being majorly exhausted and muscles cramping from exertion, Sunghoon couldn’t sleep right away, mounting trepidation climbing up his throat and threatening to spurt from his ears, nose and mouth . He couldn’t even go out for a run to get rid of the feeling of his skin being too tight on him because his legs would not be able to hold him up for long after another grueling day of practice.
When he played his first 90-minute game for the Manchester United F.C., Sunghoon silently cried in the locker rooms both in relief and at how utterly underwhelming it all felt. It was supposed to shift something inside of him, make everything click in place, but it hadn’t.
Sunghoon figured it meant he had not yet achieved what he needed to achieve, so he wiped his tears with his jersey and didn’t think twice about throwing himself back into the thick of it. One game wasn’t enough. Sunghoon wanted to be out there, every day, each and every single time.
From then on, three years after first setting foot on Old Trafford, Park Sunghoon from the Republic of Korea became the first Korean regular player in the Premier League.
It all sounded grander than it was, Sunghoon thought tiredly.
And for the first time in over three years, Sunghoon was granted a two-week leave to go home. Sunghoon almost turned it down when he was called into the offices that morning. It seemed counterproductive to rest now when he’d just gotten to the world stage not long ago. He was left with the impression, however, that the Front Office wasn’t actually asking for his permission on this, so he obediently packed his suitcase and booked the flight.
No longer having to live at the dorms, Sunghoon had found a flat not far from the stadium with the help of the Department of Talent Management, or the glorified HR of the soccer stars. He lived there alone.
He called his housekeeper to let her know he’d be out for a couple days and took care of minor errands before setting out.
Sunghoon was not expecting much from his visit home. Maybe visit his old alma mater and old coaches and play some skirmishes with the current university team. Maybe hit his favorite food joints, watch some TV, not move from the couch for days on end.
He was not expecting freaking paparazzi waiting for him when he got off the plane.
Is that fucking Dispatch? he deliriously thought before flashes of other cameras blinded him for a moment. He had worn his comfiest hoodie and pants combo and was severely regretting it. Other people were starting to stare and record with their phones, probably not recognizing him but concluding he must be some kind of public figure.
He but ran to the black van parked right by the airport’s entrance, which the Front Office had arranged for Sunghoon to pick him up and take him home upon landing. He was eager to get rid of his pursuers. The ad on the side of the van almost stopped him in his tracks. Smiling in all his full-lipped glory, ad Kim Sunoo was holding a multi-vitamin drink that promised to replenish all lost electrolytes after vigorous exercise. He was snapped out of his shock by the noises from the paparazzi almost reaching him. He threw himself at the door and climbed in, quickly giving an address and catching his breath.
The further the van took him from the airport, the less anxious he became.
“Excuse me, would you mind stopping at the next convenience store? I am very, very thirsty,” Sunghoon asked, bowing at the driver’s reflection in the rear-view mirror. The driver, who had been sneaking glances at him throughout the entire ride, agreed quickly, flustered.
Sunghoon walked into a GS25 and felt like he was dropped into an alien planet for a second. It was both so familiar and unfamiliar to once again visit such a convenience store that he hesitated at the entrance for a second. It felt like coming home at the end of the day and realizing somebody had moved all your furniture around. Unsettled, he pushed forward and nodded back at the employee’s polite greeting.
Sunghoon felt like life was playing a practical joke on him. The sheer amount of products that had Kim Sunoo as the advertisement model was astounding. Probably more so than five years ago. It looked like a tiny Kim Sunoo convenience store. Hangover remedies, drinks, chips, pastries, umbrellas - and Sunghoon was mad to say that the marketing worked on him.
He was halfway out of the door with his purchases in hand before he realized that he had unknowingly bought the multi-vitamin water Kim Sunoo was advertising. He wanted to laugh at himself. He drank a sip, hoping it tasted like shit to further prove how much of an idiot he was.
The drink was good, because of course it was.
Back in the van, he absentmindedly kept turning the bottle in his hand, Kim Sunoo’s fresh and hydrated face appearing and disappearing with a flick of his wrist. Before he knew it, he had pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the label. He opened a chat he had not visited in years (had not let himself visit) and selected the picture.
16:42
Image1.jpeg
16:43
It is very kind of you to welcome me to Korea. You shouldn’t have bothered.
Ah, Sunghoon thought. I am an idiot.
Before he could try to undo his sent messages, the van had arrived at the address. He hurried to get his suitcase despite the driver’s protests that he would do it for him. The driver harrumphed and asked for his autograph after visibly mulling it over, handing him a ballpoint pen and a napkin with a grease stain on it. Sunghoon signed it.
Sunghoon was left staring at the gates of the place after the driver took off. It was a very nice place. He hesitated to call it home since he had never actually lived there, but his family did live here now. Sunghoon had bought his parents this house with his pro player salary as soon as he was able, and he was pleased to see it looked just as nice as the virtual tour and the realtor had promised.
He pressed on the intercom to announce his arrival and was greeted by a squeal from the other side, the automatic gates sliding open. He was climbing up the steps when he got a load full of sister in his arms, almost topping them both over.
Sunghoon started laughing and crying, taking two steps at a time to reach his parents who were both making their way down to him. When they all huddled close together, Sunghoon could confidently say he was now home.
In the midst of the cheerful and teary reunion, Sunghoon did not notice his phone vibrated in his pocket with an oncoming message.
Sunghoon was herded in and given the tour of the house (despite already having had one over Facetime) and shown to his room. His parents had decorated it to look almost identical to his old room, posters and all. That made Sunghoon tear up even more. After dumping his suitcase, his sister came to get him to all eat together.
“Are you sure you’re not jetlagged, honey? Maybe you should sleep first,” his mom suggested.
“He’s a pro soccer player,” his sister whined, “he can use some of that stamina of his to eat one meal with us. Mom made all your favorites, too!”
“I’m okay, Mom,” Sunghoon comforted her, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. He could do that now. “I’m actually starving, I can always sleep later.”
His sister was right. His mom had made all his favorites and he couldn’t believe how good it all tasted. His family bombarded him with questions about Sunghoon’s recent activities.
“Anyone special, son?” his father threw out, looking down at his bowl as if he didn’t really care for the answer. Both his mom and sister turned their laser gaze on him at the same time.
“Uh, no, not really, Dad,” he gulped down his food, feeling a knot in his chest. “I don’t have a lot of time for that, uh, with all the training and games.”
Sunghoon hoped that would be enough to placate them. It wasn’t. His dad looked somewhat disappointed.
“You’re always going to be busy, Sunghoon,” his dad chided, “you have to make time if you want to find somebody.”
“I have this friend whose son is a doctor, and he is so smart, graduated top of the class,” his mom started. Sunghoon was saved by his sister.
“Mom, Sunghoon can’t date one of your friends’ kids. He’s a celebrity! He needs to be dating other celebrities, not some nobody.”
Maybe not so saved after all.
“I am not a celebrity,” he argued weakly, his sister rolling his eyes at him.
“Yeah, okay, sure,” she said, “that’s why you’re on TV and magazines and your visit to Korea is the hot trending topic on Naver.”
“Who told them?” Sunghoon asked, feeling somewhat violated.
His sister laughed at his face.
“Who told them,” his sister repeated, mimicking his voice.
Sunghoon was going to throw his plate at her.
“The Manchester United F.C. told them,” she explained, “the Club put out a statement about your leave two days ago.”
“Oh,” he simply responded, not knowing what else to say.
“Well, famous or not, it’s Sunghoon’s turn to do the dishes,” his father said, putting an end to the discussion.
Sunghoon grumbled good-naturedly but got to work on them right away. If you’d told 14 year-old Sunghoon he’d be happy to do the dishes when his dad ordered him to, he would’ve laughed heartily.
His parents insisted on showing him all the recorded interviews they had of him from the last championship in the living room, where he leaned his head back against the couch, squeezed between the two of them.
His sister had insisted on taking a selca with him, posted it to SNS with a smushy caption about having his favorite brother back (“I’m your only brother,” he told her. She had shrugged), and went out with her friends to the mall.
He dozed off after the fourth interview. Who knew he had been interviewed that much. When Sunghoon woke up next, he wasn’t sure what time it was but the house was dark. He was now laying on the entire couch and somebody had tucked him in with a pink blanket of some cartoon kittens.
He fumbled for his phone in order to get his flashlight going, the bright screen burning his eyeballs for a moment before growing used to the light. He almost dropped his phone when he saw the notification waiting for him there. He unlocked his phone but locked it back immediately, suddenly nervous.
He made his way to his room, banging his toes and shins on furniture in his haste. He threw himself on the bed, heaved a deep breath, and opened the new text message.
17:07
Image2.jpeg
It was a picture of Sunghoon at the airport from this morning, the Dispatch logo at the bottom of it. Kim Sunoo had edited the picture and added all sorts of stickers and emojis to it, and drawn with his fingers the words “Welcome back to Korea, Park Sunghoon” in hot pink.
Sunghoon’s face was a burning hot pink as well.
00:37
😂😂😂
Sunghoon knew that wasn’t his best, but surely just waking up still jet lagged excused the small slip?
It was better than sending “❤️❤️❤️” for sure.
A notification of an incoming call popped on his screen then; had he not been using his phone, he would not have noticed, his phone perpetually in Do Not Disturb. Seeing it was a British number, he answered.
“Sunghoon Park? This is Raymond Kent, from the Media & Network Department at MAN UTD. We have worked together before.”
“Uh, yes, hello. I remember,” Sunghoon greeted back. “How can I help you?”
“Glad to catch you awake. I was counting on that jet lag to work in our favor. I am aware that you’re on personal leave at the moment, yet I know you understand, the work we do never truly stops.”
Sunghoon had a bad feeling about this.
Taking his silence as agreement, the man continued.
“During your visit, we will need you to attend some official events here and there, for the Club, you see. Don’t you worry, we have hired a team to help ferry you back and forth for those.”
“Sounds like it’s all been taken care of,” Sunghoon said, careful to keep his voice devoid of any emotion. It seemed to work, the man on the other end of the line clearing his throat.
“Yes, you could say that, ah,” the man cleared his throat again, “I will send you the schedule after this call so you can look it over and prepare accordingly. Uh, nice talking to you, Mr. Park. Enjoy your time at home. Best wishes from the Front Office.”
Sunghoon hummed and hung up. His phone started receiving notifications of events scheduled into his email calendar. He was almost afraid to look.
An interview with Seventeen Korea, Men’s Health Korea, attend the inauguration of a cross-discipline sports facility in the Yonsei’s campus, as well as attend the yearly Boys Soccer Tournament organized by the Seoul Interscholastic Athletic Association.
Sunghoon hurled his phone as far away from him as he could without outright throwing it on the floor. Fucking sh*t.
No way they had squeezed all these events in the five seconds he was to be in Korea. Sunghoon’s head started hurting. He was feeling wide awake now, which would not just do.
Making a grab for his trusty melatonin, he finished the multi-vitamin water from earlier. He didn’t have the heart to throw Kim Sunoo’s face in the wastebasket. It was not that long afterwards that Sunghoon thankfully fell into a blissful sleep.
Next time he woke up, Sunghoon knew he had slept for a long time. He also knew he needed a shower ASAP. He plugged his phone, which had died at some point, and did just that.
It was coming back from the shower, towel draped around his neck to catch the moisture, when Sunghoon saw his parents’ text letting him know they were out working and so was his sister, that they loved him and that they left food out for him.
Lured by the promise of food, Sunghoon made his way to the dining room. He grew excited at the sight of the covered dishes, which is why he realized he had company too late. He yelped and skittered like a scared animal upon realizing somebody was sitting at the head of the table nursing a cup of something.
It took a moment for Sunghoon to remember the name, it’d been that long.
“Manager Yang!”
“Just Jungwon is fine,” the guy said, not making a move to stand or leave.
Sunghoon’s heart was beating frantically against his chest after the scare. Once again he felt like somebody must be playing a practical joke on him. He was suspecting this was a hidden camera segment. If it was, or even if it wasn’t, he thought it better to play along.
“Okay, Jungwon,” he acquiesced. “What are you doing in my house?”
The sense of deja vu heavily came over Sunghoon. He wondered if Jungwon would answer just like he had back at the dorms all those years ago.
“Your parents let me in. And your sister gave me tea. She was very accommodating,” he answered with one of his not-answers.
Sunghoon scoffed.
“Of course she was,” he grumbled.
The guy had lost the little baby fat he remembered from before, hair curling handsomely over his ears and neck. He looked broader than before, neck a long line. He was dressed all chic as well, bomber jacket visible from where Sunghoon was standing. Of course his sister was accommodating. Hell, even he was feeling accommodating.
“I was hired by MAN UTD to make sure you get to all your schedules during your stay in Korea,” he explained. “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other these next two weeks.”
He looked just as unimpressed as he had once before.
“Aren’t you Kim Sunoo’s manager?” he blurted out, the question that had been on the tip of his tongue the whole time breaking free.
If possible, Jungwon’s face looked even more serious, eyebrows slightly furrowed and a dimple appearing on his cheek due to his pursed lips.
“I’m not at liberty to discuss former or current clients,” he responded, clearly dismissing the issue.
Sunghoon sighed.
“I’ll be stopping by in order to get you ready for and take you to each event on time. Tardiness is not tolerated. All wardrobe and make-up decisions are handled by my team.”
Sunghoon blanched at that.
“Make-up?”
Jungwon ignored him.
“I’ll be taking my leave for now. I will be back tomorrow at 5:45 a.m. to start preparations for your Men’s Health interview. You’ll have some time to read over the questions and acceptable answers while the team gets you ready.”
“Okay,” Sunghoon saluted weakly, finally sitting on the table and making a grab for the food there.
Silence greeted his response, and thinking Jungwon had left already, he started eating. A muffled chuckle made him look up. Jungwon was looking at him differently, head tilted appraisingly.
“‘Okay?’ That’s it? You’re certainly easier to handle than Sunoo hyung,” he mused aloud, “I like you already. See you tomorrow. And thank your sister for the tea.”
“I will not,” Sunghoon answered brightly, flashing his teeth somewhat obnoxiously. “See you tomorrow!”
Finally Sunghoon was allowed to stuff his face with his mom’s delicious cooking. Faced with the rest of the afternoon free, Sunghoon felt a little unsure as to what to do. He would definitely practice if he was back in Manchester, but it felt wrong to practice when he is supposed to be taking a break.
He went out on a run anyways, figuring some cardio didn’t count as practice.
14:32
Ever gone so long without a break that you no longer remember what to do in your free time?
Yes, Sunghoon was now back to being addicted and chasing the sugar high of texting global idol Kim Sunoo and, sometimes, even getting a response back. He truly doesn’t know how he held off from texting the number non-stop for three years with how many random things he felt the need to say.
14:38
Yes.
No emojis, no images. Sunghoon, contrary to popular belief, could read the room. He tried to switch the conversation a bit.
14:39
Does running count as not taking a break for me, do you think?
14:43
Idk, does singing along to a song on the radio count as not taking a break for me???
Sunghoon really thought about that one before responding.
14:49
It doesn’t count. Because it’s fun.
15:03
Then i guess we have our answer 😁
Sunghoon finished his run with an extra burst of speed that wasn’t there before. He thought about hitting up some of his former classmates and hanging out but since he had to wake up early for that one interview, he opted not to.
He spent the rest of the afternoon browsing social media and perked up when his family came back in the early evening. He invited them out to dinner to some upscale restaurant his sister said had amazing steak and to walk around the Hyundai Seoul mall. Sunghoon was not one to take many pictures but he wanted to keep memories of this time.
Sleep came easily to him that night, and he woke up just as easily at 5:30 sharp. A shower and some random outfit he plucked straight from his still half-packed suitcase had him opening the door at the first knock. Jungwon and another young man stood there, both looking owlishly at him.
“You weren’t kidding,” the other guy told Jungwon yet not taking his eyes off of Sunghoon, “we really do have our work cut out for us with this one.”
Jungwon smiled, dimples on full display.
“Yes, we do. Good morning, Sunghoon hyung. This is Jay. He’s my entire make-up and hair team.”
“Yo! Nice to meet you, man,” Jay genuinely greeted, extending his hand, “it’s such an honor to meet the Park Sunghoon. I’m a big Manchester fan.”
Sunghoon shook his hand. He already liked the guy.
“United or City?” Sunghoon couldn’t help but tease. The other laughed.
“…Yes,” Jay pretended to answer after much thought, making them laugh again.
Sunghoon welcomed them in, Jungwon and Jay carrying in boxes, lights, a mini wardrobe, furniture - basically turning the living room into the backstage of some music show.
They sat Sunghoon in a chair and Jay immediately got to work, discussing this and that about the styling with Jungwon. Coming to a decision, they gave him some “trendy” outfit (Jay’s words) Sunghoon wouldn’t in a million years buy on his own.
Jay chatted with him as he went, telling Sunghoon everything he was doing and why he was choosing a particular brush or a particular lip tint color. Sunghoon appreciated the gesture, though it all really went over his head. Jungwon was sitting across from him, typing furiously on his phone and constantly checking the time.
“Sunghoon hyung, look over here,” Jungwon suddenly called.
He looked up and saw Jungwon was recording him. Not knowing what to do, he flashed a peace sign at the camera. Jungwon nodded approvingly and went back to his phone.
Once Jay started on his hair, Jungwon went over the questions with Sunghoon, coaching him on how to answer succinctly yet in an engaging way. Jungwon really broke down how to do this easily, giving Sunghoon an extra boost of confidence.
Interviews were his least favorite part of being a public figure, but if he had somebody advising him like this back in Manchester it wouldn’t be so bad.
“The Men’s Health interview is going to be easy,” Jungwon said on the way to the location, “because they’re going to focus on your soccer career, athletic achievements, all that jazz. Seventeen is what worries me, but thankfully we have until next week to prepare for that. The inauguration of the sports facility is in two days.”
“This whole fame thing is stupid,” Sunghoon concluded out loud, making even Jungwon laugh.
“Tell me about it,” Jungwon griped.
“Okay, we are here,” the driver announced, the van rolling to a stop. Jay flashed him a thumbs up and Jungwon wiggled his eyebrows, urging him to move. Sunghoon took a deep breath, like he did right before a game, and exited the vehicle.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Jay consoles him at the end of the shoot. Sunghoon thinks his hands are forever gonna be glued to his face in shame.
“Why did they make me bite my lip like that in the picture?” Sunghoon wailed, “Is a normal picture not good enough these days?”
“It’s Men’s Health,” Jay reasoned, “it’s supposed to be sexy.”
Both guys ignored Sunghoon’s muffled “Since when!”.
“It was awkward,” Jungwon sentenced, once again typing furiously on his phone, “but your face really hard carries how awkward you are.”
“Thanks,” Sunghoon mumbled, dramatically trying to cool down his burning face. Jay handed him a cold vitamin water in sympathy. It’s the brand Kim Sunoo promotes.
“Not everybody can be Sunoo, I guess,” the stylist mused, looking at the bottle’s label, “he is every photographer’s dream.”
“And director’s,” Jungwon added.
“And stylist’s,” Jay sighed dreamily, “he should let me style him sometime.”
Jungwon hummed noncommittally. Sunghoon meanwhile was trying hard to appear uninterested in the conversation, especially since he’d noticed how reticent Jungwon turned the moment he mentioned anything about Kim Sunoo.
“Sunoo hyung is,” Jungwon started, finally giving all his attention to the conversation, “Sunoo hyung is what I call a self-made natural, which I know sounds oxymoronic. Every single expression, mannerism, and quirk has hundreds of hours of work behind them. He is now at the point that it looks effortless to everybody else. I have not met a more hard-working person in this industry than him.”
Jay whistled appreciatively. Sunghoon’s hand twitched, wanting to reach out for his phone and message Kim Sunoo about anything, once again struck with the realization that they were acquaintances. Friends, a dreamy voice whispered in his head.
The following days passed by in a blur. Jungwon provided him with a written speech for the inauguration of the sports facility and guided him through the hand-shaking and picture-taking part of the event.
He got to hang out at his university with some of his old coaches and the current student players there. Some of his former teammates also came and they played scrimmages until word got around that Sunghoon was on campus and the field became flooded with people wanting to meet him. Sunghoon escaped as soon as he was able.
He continued spending time with his family, visiting whatever new chic place his sister would recommend. He even went out drinking one night with some high school classmates and got back home later than he usually would. He watched TV until his eyes felt like popping out. He and his family jokingly did all the touristy stuff in Seoul, arguing that Sunghoon had forgotten what Korea was like in his time abroad.
The Boys Soccer Tournament he had to attend also came and went without a hitch, Sunghoon finding himself actually excited watching the kids play. A photo of him smiling in the bleachers made it to the trending page on Naver, and Sunghoon found his phone swamped with messages and notifications, but no message from the one number he really cared about.
Jungwon and Jay showed up at his house the day of the Seventeen interview bright and early with all the equipment from last time, but Jungwon looked noticeably more agitated. He grilled Sunghoon harder on the segments and questions.
They first would record the “In My Bag” segment, which basically would have Sunghoon showing to the camera what he carries with him at all times. Sunghoon thought it would be pretty boring to see all the stuff at the bottom of his bag but Jay assured him people wanted to know what pro athlete Park Sunghoon deems important enough to keep on him.
The next and last segment to record was the “20 random questions for Park Sunghoon” segment, which sounded pretty self-explanatory, but Jungwon went over a pool of 40 questions that the interviewer could potentially ask just in case. Sunghoon didn’t know what Jungwon was so afraid of, but he was making him nervous.
The entire ride there was quiet. Once they got to the studio, Sunghoon visibly relaxed. There were only about seven staff members and the set was minimally furnished. There were only three cameras pointed at him. He could do this.
“Hello, I’m Park Sunghoon, defense player for the Manchester United Football Club, and today we are doing “In My Bag” with Seventeen Korea.”
“Cut! Great, let’s keep going!”
Sunghoon produced the stuff from his bag and repeated the bits about them Jungwon and he had come up with.
Phone, keys, earbuds, basic toiletries, water bottle, vitamins, cologne, gym towel, tennis ball (he had to explain that one a little more), pain relief spray, another pair of cleats, and compression tights.
He thought the recording had gone well, but Jungwon’s face was very serious. The Seventeen staff looked sufficiently charmed and Jungwon didn’t actually intervene so Sunghoon trudged on to the next section.
The questions were interesting, despite Sunghoon knowing what they were beforehand. What position he’d like to play besides his own, what would he be doing if he wasn’t a pro soccer player, favorite celebratory meal after a good game, etc.
When they asked what song would best represent a turning point in his career, Sunghoon’s mouth went faster than his brain and he blurted out Kim Sunoo’s ‘Lose to Win.’
He and Jungwon had gone over this one and they had chosen some generic top 40s English song, but of course his brain had other plans. He saw Jungwon face-palm from behind the cameras but he trudged on.
“When I was first scouted into MAN UTD and was in the lower leagues, it was hard to stay positive when coaches never had a word of praise and pushed you to train harder and harder. It felt like going out to the field every day and playing a losing game. Eventually, as I climbed higher and higher, I realized those supposed losses were building blocks for the wins of the future. Just like the lyrics say, sometimes you have to lose to win, in relationships or in pro soccer leagues.”
Sunghoon’s mouth was dry after that, but he finished the interview soon after. The staff congratulated him and animatedly wished him well in his future endeavors, claiming they were now fans. All in all, Sunghoon was in good spirits.
He had finished all the schedules for the Club so now he could enjoy his remaining time at home in peace. Jay congratulated him and bid him goodbye after exchanging contact info, claiming he had an event to get to. Only he and Jungwon returned to the rented van.
“We have one more stop today,” Jungwon told him after a couple of minutes of riding silently.
Sunghoon frowned.
“I’m pretty sure we are done with all the schedules for the Club,” he slowly said, statement sounding more like a question.
Jungwon nodded.
“This isn’t Club business officially. You have an audience with the Minister of the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism.”
Sunghoon pursued his lips.
“Okay,” he settled in the seat more comfortably.
Jungwon chuckled.
“Seriously, every time you do that I can’t quite believe you agree to things this easily. My easiest charge by far,” he grinned.
Sunghoon smiled, too.
“Well, I figured I can’t really refuse, right? And I didn’t do anything bad, so the meeting is probably something positive. Probably,” he shrugged.
“What an easygoing guy you are,” Jungwon said lightly.
He looked like he was hesitating to say something. Sunghoon was curious but not worried. When Jungwon cleared his throat, Sunghoon knew he was ready to talk.
“Sunghoon hyung,” he started, voice determined, “you’re a nice guy.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Jay and I, we really liked you. You really are easygoing despite the cool and aloof aura you’ve got going on. You’re a pro soccer player competing on the world stage yet remain humble and very down-to-Earth.”
Sunghoon’s mind was trying to guess where this conversation was going, but he really couldn’t tell. He nodded in acknowledgement at the praise but was a little wary.
“We just don’t want you to get embroiled in situations that could hurt you, you know? You have a great life, every day going down in history as a legend in the sport and in your country. You’re all about reaching the impossibles, but don’t hitch your wagon to the wrong star this time is what I’m trying to say.”
Sunghoon was feeling a little agitated, a churning feeling in his stomach. He didn’t appreciate the flowery manner of speaking Jungwon had adopted all of a sudden when the young manager had been nothing but blunt with him since the moment they first met.
“Manager Yang, please speak clearly to me just like I’ve spoken clearly to you. We owe each other that courtesy, I think,” he snapped at him, flexing and unflexing his hands that were deep in his pockets. His fingers bumped into the familiar shape of a Big Ben Tower keychain.
“I saw the keychain, Sunghoon hyung,” Jungwon said, startling Sunghoon into retracting his hand away from the keychain as if caught, “I not only heard but also saw your expression when talking about ‘Lose to Win’ today. I had to ask the director to cut that part.”
“I’ve also read a few of the text messages over the years,” he confessed after a couple of tense seconds.
Sunghoon felt embarrassed beyond belief for some reason.
“Sunghoon hyung,” he firmly said, looking straight at Sunghoon, “please give up on Sunoo hyung.”
Sunghoon couldn’t restrain the laugh that burst out then. Jungwon looked a bit startled at his reaction.
“Give up? Since when does liking a celebrity equals being in love with them? Being acquaintances is the same as being star-crossed lovers now? I’m not sure what to say to you now that I know what kind of impression you have of me!”
Sunghoon thought he did a good job keeping the edge of hysteria in his voice at bay. It was really difficult to keep his cool when he was feeling this humiliated. Jungwon looked grim, but had a stubborn angle to his mouth.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt. You and Sunoo hyung both. Understand this is why I even dared to say anything.”
“I’m not sure what brought you this much worry,” Sunghoon interrupted him, “but don’t worry any longer. I’ll be out of you guys’ orbits pretty soon.”
Jungwon looked conflicted but didn’t say anything else thankfully. The van pulled up to the entrance of the Marriott Hotel in Seocho-gu shortly after, where a small welcoming party headed by the minister’s assistant was waiting for them to lead them to one of the executive conference rooms. This was all done in a whirlwind, thankfully not giving Sunghoon much time to brood over the conversation he just had.
Jungwon led the introductions expertly and everyone settled down quickly around a table, the minister at the head of the table and Sunghoon to his right. Sunghoon thought it’d be difficult to concentrate on whatever the minister had to say, but after he bluntly stated what he wanted right off the bat, Sunghoon could not have dragged his attention away from the man even if he’d wanted to.
Park Sunghoon, we want you to lead Team South Korea in the upcoming World Cup in Milan.
He walked out of the conference room and hotel as if drunk and dazed after the meeting a couple of hours later, stumbling on the steps before hopping back into the van. Jungwon asked him like two things on the way back to Sunghoon’s house, but Sunghoon doesn’t remember what he responded; Jungwon didn’t say anything after that.
He waved distractedly at Jungwon and the driver when they dropped him off, rushing to go inside. It wasn’t until later in the evening that he realized that that was the last time he would see the manager and regretted a little not properly saying goodbye.
He made his way up to his room, closed the door, laid down on the bed in his day clothes and all and stared at the ceiling. He let out the loudest scream as he kicked his feet up in the air and whipped his arms back and forth until he’d let it all out.
He was going to represent his country in the World Cup. He was going to be on Team South Korea. They wanted him to lead Team South Korea. He was going to be in the freaking World Cup.
He’d said yes, immediately. The Minister talked about arrangements with his Club but Sunghoon was honestly not listening. It would all work out. Probably. He was going to be in the freaking World Cup leading Team South Korea.
The haze did not leave him even as he boarded the plane back to England the next day. Saying goodbye to his family wasn’t as hard because he knew he’d be back sooner. He spent all his waking hours during the flight to England watching games from the previous World Cups to “strategize” (he was oh so excited). Suddenly Manchester looked different to him. The streets, the people, his teammates, his loft. It was easy for his body to get back to his daily routine at the Club, but his heart was back in Korea.
The director and some of the coaches kept remarking that the trip home had done Sunghoon a world of good; that he was playing sharper than ever, was consistently making contact with the ball, and had a more calculating edge to his gameplay. Sunghoon was living and breathing soccer again. It felt like all those years ago when his only goal was climbing the ladder of success.
Sunghoon took the Big Ben keychain off his keys and carefully put it away in a drawer.
He stopped using SNS altogether and focused on preparing for when the official summons for Team South Korea came. This is why it took that long for him to hear the news at first.
“Kim Sunoo broke up with that boyfriend of his,” his sister told him on a video call about three months after returning to Manchester. Sunghoon stilled. His sister had her eyes cast down, probably doing her nails as they talked; she wasn’t looking at him. She had no way of knowing anything about Sunghoon’s relationship (or lack of one) with the man but he still felt paranoid.
“The idol?” he feigned innocence, trying to appear nonchalant. His sister hummed, waving her hand back and forth. Definitely doing her nails.
“Yeah. I know you’re not on SNS much, but it was huge news over here. They’ve been dating forever, and all of a sudden Kim Sunoo’s agency put out a statement that the both of them had broken up about three months ago. They were kind of forced to, though, since the ex was spotted making out with some chick at a club,” she confided.
Sunghoon had a hard time swallowing. Three months ago? This was around the same time Sunghoon was in Korea and he was still exchanging messages with Kim Sunoo then. Had he already broken up with the boyfriend when they were talking? Sunghoon hadn’t been able to tell.
“Didn’t know you were so interested in celebrities’ lives,” he teased her, getting a middle finger for his troubles.
“I am not,” she denied, rolling her eyes, “but it’s THE Kim Sunoo. The closest thing to royalty we have nowadays. News channels even had it as breaking news and everything. How awkward for him, at the end of the day he is also a human that dates.”
He and his sister talked for a bit more after that and hung up. Sunghoon somehow found himself not able to sleep, but his hand refused to reach for his phone. It was none of his business. What would he even say? Hey, just heard you’re single now. I am sorry but I could be more sorry for sure. But, like, if you’re genuinely sad, then I am genuinely sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?
He really didn’t want to know anything else about the situation, yet he still opened the first article on the search bar.
“Global Idol Kim Sunoo and Producer Tee Y. reportedly end their 9-year relationship,” read the headline.
The article didn’t actually go into any detail, citing busy schedules as the reason for calling off the relationship. Kim Sunoo’s agency had done all the work, putting out a clean and simple statement that really didn’t say anything. Despite this, the article had an overwhelming amount of traffic based on the upvotes and downvotes in comments.
[+100,289, -27] Hul… Kim Sunoo is single now
[+98,825, -55] Even if I didn’t like Tee Y. for our Ddonnu it’s a damn shame when a relationship that long ends. Find strength Kim Sunoo!
[+83,972, -37] Tee Y. was such a greasy looking guy. Good riddance!
[+76,392, -48] Kim Sunoo is single now… Daebak… Didn’t think I’d live to see this.
[+38,298, -96] Can’t wait for the post-breakup album release. No one can perform such strong emotions on stage like Kim Sunoo.
[+19,292, -888] Sunoo oppa… let’s find a better looking man next time, ok?
Sunghoon closed the tab and threw his phone away from him. He rubbed the palms of his hands aggressively over his eyeballs and sighed.
21:04
Hi. Believe it or not, I just heard about you and your man. I hope you’re okay. I’m here if you need someone to talk to-
He had a hard time coming up with that text. Sunghoon ended up not sending it.
Time slipped by him after that, and he received his summons one early autumn morning. He was ready to go and already had accommodations a rock throw away from the Sangam Stadium. This time, leaving Manchester for this long, it felt a bit bittersweet. He had the gut feeling that whatever happened during the duration of his stay in Korea and the subsequent World Cup, it would change his life completely.
Due to his contract with the Club, he was going to be the last summoned player to arrive. This had made Sunghoon uncomfortable, hoping that the rest of the team didn’t think he had a celebrity disease or something, but forced himself to stop stressing about that possibility. He was going to be leading the team after all, and he needed to focus on starting with the right foot with them.
Sunghoon was relieved their first meeting was going to be in the field. It somehow made him feel more in his element. The airport taxi dropped him off at the entrance of the stadium where he rushed towards the group of men already lined up. Heaving his suitcase and bag higher on his shoulder, he reached the sides of the minister, his administrative retinue, their technical director and his staff. They bowed at each other in acknowledgment. He looked at the faces of his now teammates that were expectantly staring back at him. Most of them were very young, and had very limited World Cup experience between them.
Before they could begin the introductions, a voice cut in.
“Did you come straight from the airport or something?” one of the older-looking guys blurted out. He couldn’t have been more than 32 years old.
The silence that ringed a couple of seconds after felt immense in the empty stadium. Sunghoon hesitated for a second and earnestly said, “ I really wanted to be here right away, so yes.”
“Wow,” a guy with a huge head of hair and bright eyes exclaimed, “European pro players really are a different breed. So committed!”
This broke the ice and the people gathered teetered, someone slapping the guy’s head on the back. Sunghoon shot him a smile which was returned, together with finger guns. He liked this guy already.
He was formally introduced to the team as the captain, and the team was introduced to him right back. Sunghoon learned the smiley guy’s name was Jake, and he was Korean born and raised in Australia. Jake introduced him to the defender Lee Heeseung, who showed him a calm smile and a fist bump. They seemed to really click. Overall, the energy of the team summoned was good, lots of nervous and hopeful energy. They agreed to all go out for dinner that same night to welcome Sunghoon and start training early the next morning.
14:23
Heard you are in Korea, soccer superstar. Don’t be a stranger and say hi to your good friend Jay when you have the chance.
Sunghoon smiled and responded in affirmative. He and Jay had maintained contact after going back to Manchester. The stylist never mentioned his former manager or Kim Sunoo to him, and neither did Sunghoon. It wasn’t awkward with Jay, though. He was happy to hear from him. It didn’t occur to him to wonder how the stylist found out about his arrival.
Dinner that evening was a success. Only the TD and his assistants attended besides the players, so the atmosphere was more comfortable than earlier when all the entourage had been there. They had rented out a Samgyeopsal place for the night since their party was about 30 people or so. Sunghoon could tell his now teammates and the staff were curious about him. He tried to be friendly and accessible, lending an ear to everybody around him. The effort really pushed him the entire time, but he knew it’d be worth it. He also hoped a good first impression would soothe ruffled feathers tomorrow morning when his drilling during training would inevitably be received with complaints.
Sunghoon had not been this excited to work out just how to sync up with a team in a while. Every day ended in the blink of an eye, the exertion of the day sweetening his nights. He and Heeseung were a lethal defensive combination, and Jake was scarily good as a midfielder, his presence sometimes seeming larger than life despite his slight stature. Jo Hyeonwoo, their goalkeeper, was tall as hell and always had one long limb blocking the net just at the nick of time. Seungwoo was a former student from Sunghoon’s university, so he already had an idea on the guy’s skills, but seeing it in person was a different story. Their synergy grew as a team with each passing day.
On D-300 to Inauguration Day, Sunghoon received the fright of his life when Lee Hweechan screeched from the bench over. The team was taking a quick water break, not wanting their muscles to cool off too much before getting back in the field. Hweechan had his phone in a death grip and looked like he was shaking.
Sunghoon thought he had gotten hurt for a second before the man jumped up and ran to them, waving his phone around.
“Did you see who’s doing the World Cup theme song for Milan?! Did you all see?!”
“Oh, they chose who already?” Kyungmin, their center fielder, asked absentmindedly. Murmurs of polite interest could be heard, the team not used to Hweechan saying much besides grunting in agreement or cursing in celebration after a well-executed play.
“You bet they fucking did,” Hweechan crowed, small eyes glinting, “the one and only Kim Sunoo!”
Sunghoon had been taking a swig out of his water bottle at that exact moment, so he promptly choked on the water, hacking painfully. He went ignored, the rest of the team going from polite interest to an uproar, rushing to crowd Hweechan and his phone.
“Hweechan hyung is a big Kim Sunoo fan,” Heeseung explained as he patted Sunghoon forcefully in the back, “he’s an active fancafe member and everything.”
“Of course I am,” Hweechan boasted, “what kind of fan would I be if I can’t even do that? I have to continue doing well in soccer so that I can keep supporting our Kim Sunoo well! As it is expected!”
“Wow,” Sunghoon finally said after catching his breath.
Heeseung handed him his water bottle back. Some of the other teammates tried teasing Hweechan for being such a fanboy but he was having none of it. He was also a bulky, scary-looking guy, so nobody tried too hard to mess with him. He roared his intent to win this World Cup for Kim Sunoo since he was doing the theme song, running back to the field with renewed enthusiasm.
Sunghoon made his way back a little more slowly, kind of dazed at the news still.
Does this mean I am seeing him again?
Sunghoon smacked himself before he could think anything further than that.
Running a team was an experience that consumed Sunghoon completely, fortunately. He was the kind of guy who had to listen to everybody’s point of view before coming to a decision, and though he knew some teammates were a little frustrated with that approach, he could tell they respected it at the end of the day. As the date loomed closer and closer, Sunghoon knew their strength as a team did not rely on experience but on how much of a wild card they were. They were young, flexible, and unpredictable. Their group stage looked like a challenge but not insurmountable, having to first face Belgium, Panama and England. Sunghoon knew enough players in Team England and Belgium to plot a strategy with the TD.
About a month before having to head to Milan, the team had to attend an event in their honor organized by the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism partnered with Nike, their official sponsors for the World Cup. It was some high-brow dinner extravaganza in a Gangnam club high up on a luxurious-looking skyscraper. He took his sister as his plus one, who looked like she was living the dream hanging from his arm and snapping several pictures a minute.
The organizers had rented limousines to bring the team to the venue despite Sunghoon’s weak protests that it wasn’t necessary. Jake and his mom wore matching grins as they traversed downtown on the limousines, looking at the glittering night life through the tinted glass. So maybe the limousines were a good idea after all. Heeseung’s brother, his plus one, had everyone cracking up in no time, the atmosphere in the vehicle comfortable and intimate. Sunghoon felt energized by this, feeling like he could get through events such as these if he had people like these on his side.
Sunghoon sure was glad he asked Jay for pointers on what to wear when he realized a crowd of paparazzis were lined up to take pictures of them as they entered the building. They shouted his and his teammates’ names as they walked up, begging for a second to ask a question or two. The security hired for the event did not allow them to stop, parting the sea of cameras for them. Sunghoon was glad for this.
The building was deceptively modern looking on the outside, but they had gone through great lengths to make the grand lobby look like a replica of the Versailles palace. A huge crystal spider chandelier hung regal from above them, throwing prisms of light across the room. The rest of his teammates were making their way into the lobby from outside when two sharply dressed representatives greeted Sunghoon and the party, indicating they were to follow them into the elevators to reach the event upstairs.
“Sunghoon! Park Sunghoon!”
Sunghoon looked bewildered around him, having clearly heard someone calling his name. His sister and Jake turned to look at him questioningly, Sunghoon shrugging his shoulders at them helplessly. He felt his skin prickle and an unexpected urge to look up. For a moment, the light hit a chandelier crystal just right and directly blinded him. He raised his hand to block the beam and blinked rapidly to adjust. When his sight cleared, he felt like rubbing his eyes in case he was seeing things.
“Park Sunghoon! Hi!” Kim Sunoo greeted happily from the second floor, half of his body over the banister to wave at him with a smile so big it pulled his eyes into little crescent moons.
Sunghoon heard gasps from around him, including his own. His body reacted before his mind did, his hand waving stiffly back but incapable of yelling anything back. Kim Sunoo did not seem to take offense at this, mouth splitting even wider into a smile. His blonde hair floated around his face like a halo, framing his rosy cheeks like a gilded crown. Looking up at him, Sunghoon had the thought that this must be how it feels to be touched by the first sun rays breaking from the clouds after a deluge.
“See you in Milan, okay? Fighting Captain Park! Fighting Team South Korea!” he cheered, raising his fist in encouragement and laughing. With a flick of his hand as a goodbye and a wink that Sunghoon saw clear as day, Kim Sunoo disappeared from over the banister and from view.
Sunghoon was sure he would’ve stayed rooted to the spot for the rest of the night if it had not been for his sister and Heeseung’s brother pulling him up from each arm into the elevator. The elevator was huge, having a capacity for 40 people, so their party split into two groups. The moment the elevator doors closed in on them, his sister whirled on him and stomped on his shoe with her sharp little heel. Sunghoon couldn’t even gasp in pain before his sister was bunching his coat in her hands and pulling her to him.
“You know Kim Sunoo?” she gritted, eyes absolutely furious. “You know Kim Sunoo and you never fucking told me?”
“Yo, bro, was that Kim Sunoo?” Jake asked good-naturedly, sealing Sunghoon’s doom further, “I didn’t know you knew him, that’s so cool! Think you can get me an autograph?”
“You son of a bitch,” his sister spat.
“We have the same mother!” Sunghoon cried, scandalized.
Heeseung intervened, urging everybody to calm down and wait until they were sitting down to talk more. Sunghoon could tell the older was also itching to know more, but Sunghoon felt as if struck dumb. As the elevator raced them to the top of the building, his stomach was suspended in zero gravity inside of him. His hands felt shaky, so he shoved them into his pockets. The moment the elevator’s doors opened, now facing a very modern looking hallway where a neon sign that winked “Red Fox” at the end of it beaconed them closer. Sunghoon didn’t get much of a chance to panic about what had just happened since he was swept into the event, having to greet strangers left and right and pose for both pictures and selcas. The venue was surprisingly large, housing around 400 guests, and looked just like any other high-end club does in any part of the world. Sunghoon would know, having visited many because of Club activities throughout the years.
He was finally shown to his seat some undetermined time later, his sister and his teammates already sitting and drinking merrily. Jake shoved some drink that stung his nose immediately at him.
“You are gonna need it,” he simply said. Sunghoon felt a pinch on his other side, and he peeked at his sister’s expression. He gulped down the drink in one go.
“Care to enlighten us, brother of mine?” she sweetly prompted, head tilted to the side in a mockery of attentiveness, her eyes pinning him to his seat.
“Uh, it’s not what you think,” he started.
“Try me,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Someone handed him another drink. He threw it back, his throat feeling closed up. He started from the beginning, omitting a few things here and there (a lot) to not sound as pathetic. His sister was looking at him as if he was a gum she had stepped on accidentally, while Jake and Heeseung had complicated expressions on their faces. The MC kept droning on and on in the background, completely ignored by this particular table.
“You are not just in love with a celebrity,” his sister said at the end of his rant, “you are in love with THE celebrity. Just like the rest of his fans all over the world. You never take the easy way, huh, dearest brother?”
“I suppose I don’t,” Sunghoon admitted, not seeing a reason to deny his sister’s words. Seeing Kim Sunoo had felt like a revelation a long time coming, like a confirmation of all his hopes and fears all in one. He remembered his conversation with Jungwon what felt like ages ago. He had tied himself inexorably to the shooting star that was Kim Sunoo and he could not find it in him to regret it anymore. Even if he and Kim Sunoo kept orbiting close enough to each other to see but not to touch, Sunghoon would take it. His stomach settled, a warmth spreading from the tip of his toes to his head.
“That’s just the alcohol, bro,” Jake laughed, pointing to Sunghoon’s sixth drink. Sunghoon giggled, realizing Jake was probably right. His sister took pity on him and squeezed his hand.
“Not all hope is lost,” she consoled him, “you’re quite the catch. All you have to do is do something really legendary to catch his eye, like winning him the World Cup trophy.”
“Uh oh,” Heeseung voiced, “I know this face and it’s spelling trouble.”
“You guys,” Sunghoon gurgled, sitting straight in his chair to lend more importance to his words, “I am going to win Kim Sunoo the World Cup trophy.”
“That’s my man!” Jake cheered. Sunghoon’s head felt heavy all of a sudden and he dropped it down to his chest, wanting to rest for a second.
“Sunghoon,” somebody shook him awake way too quickly, “Park Sunghoon.”
“What is it?” Sunghoon slurred.
“I don’t know what you just said but you need to wake up. Let’s get some breakfast into you so we can drop you off at your apartment.”
“Breakfast?” He echoed, trying to open his crusted over eyelids. His head was pounding and his mouth smelled like a sewer.
“Yes, breakfast,” Sunghoon recognized the voice as Heeseung, “it’s 11 in the morning.”
“Eleven in the morning?” Sunghoon echoed again.
Someone laughed way too loudly in the room with them, making Sunghoon wince.
“Get your friend up on his feet, dude,” Heeseung’s brother said, “I’ll get the car going.”
Close to an hour later, and two hungover pills later, Sunghoon was cognizant enough to hear the Lee Brothers’ account of what happened last night. Sunghoon had fallen asleep on his seat for a bit before waking up, downing five more drinks and then passing out for good. The Brothers felt bad for his sister, who would have had to deal with his drunk ass, so they volunteered to watch over him and take him back to his place the next morning. His phone was full with messages from his sister scolding him for embarrassing her and asking him for Heeseung’s number. Sunghoon snorted and let her know he was alive before going back to nursing his cup of water.
After forcing some food into his stomach, they dropped Sunghoon off at his apartment, where he took a long shower and promptly passed out again after taking some painkillers. He knew he was going to regret drinking that much tomorrow morning at practice.
They were going to head out of Korea and fly to Milan in about two weeks, so they were taking it easy in practice, the TD not wanting to risk any of the players being too fatigued or getting hurt before leaving.
Sunghoon resisted the urge to show up to practice with some dark sunglasses perched on his face, but regretted it when he noticed that everybody kept looking over at him, and it was starting to spook him. It was like they kept expecting a bomb to go off at any second. Sunghoon tried to shake it off, concentrating on his stretching. Even Jake looked a little subdued, greeting Sunghoon quietly and taking his place next to him without a word. Hweechan, in the middle of practice, stopped what he was doing and purposefully strode towards Sunghoon. Everybody stopped and stared. He saw Heeseung try to make his way to them before Hweechan could reach him, but he was not going to make it in time. Sunghoon cleared his throat, not knowing what to expect.
Hweechan got really into Sunghoon’s personal space, chests almost bumping together. He let his thick hand drop hard on Sunghoon’s shoulder, patting it.
“Take good care of him,” Hweechan admonished, “or I will personally end you, Captain.”
“Uh,” Sunghoon intelligently responded, but it seemed good enough for Hweechan, who nodded solemnly at him and went back to training. Everybody seemed to collectively sigh in relief.
“I think he just gave you his blessing to court Kim Sunoo,” Jake said, entertained. Sunghoon did not find it as funny.
“Yeah, well, I don’t need anyone’s blessing,” he huffed, hating that he did feel somewhat touched at Hweechan’s words.
A couple of days later, Sunghoon was browsing through SNS mindlessly when he saw that the official Kim Sunoo account (which he followed) posted a picture of Kim Sunoo in Il Domo. Hweechan helpfully informed him that the idol was there ahead of time to record the music video for the theme song.
In a week exactly, Team South Korea would also be flying out to Milan for the inauguration, but Sunghoon couldn’t wait that long. He grabbed his phone and composed a text that he sent before second guessing himself.
13:33
Hey, how’s the weather in Milan? I’m trying to figure out what to pack lol.
Someone please take Sunghoon’s phone away from him.
13:58
Hey!!! Welcome to your daily weather report with your favorite weather correspondent Kim Sunoo🙆😜☀️
13:59
Today’s temperature in Milan is 26 degrees celsius, with clear skies and an air quality of 68, perfect for a walk around your favorite plazas and sightseeing spots🌞📸
14:02
There’s just something about Italy that never goes out of style no matter how many times I’ve been here🤌
14:04
I heard from one of the staff that it might rain a bit later in the evening so make sure to bring stuff for that🌧☔️ because apparently that happens a lot here😅
14:06
It’s also sort of really humid here it’s a nightmare for hairdos everywhere
14:07
Except you have really nice hair so this probably won’t be a problem for you hahahah
He thinks my hair is nice?
Sunghoon did not squeal. But he came close.
With each passing day, the urge to get to Milan and see Kim Sunoo grew stronger and stronger, making him anxious and impatient when he should have been the most focused. The others didn't seem to sense anything amiss, not commenting on how much time he was spending on his phone these days.
Kim Sunoo really gave him a daily weather report of Milan, as well as sent him pictures of interesting things in the city, pretty clouds, seemingly anything that captured his fancy, really — and Sunghoon was so in love it was ridiculous. Sunghoon kept trying to convince himself that it was alright to keep liking Kim Sunoo from the sidelines and not do anything about it, but he had a hard time not growing hopeful when they kept messaging back and forth like this. Surely the idol was a little bit interested in him as well? He slipped his keys back into the Big Ben keychain and tucked them in his pocket.
It was finally departure day, and they left Seoul late at night with less fanfare than Sunghoon thought. He was more than used to long international flights, so he pulled out a sleeping mask and curled in his seat to get some shut-eye. He ended up staying awake for longer texting Kim Sunoo, who excitedly told him what food to try the moment he landed in Milan. Maybe it was the late hour, or the growing feelings within Sunghoon’s chest, but he could not stop his fingers even if he tried.
22:56
I want to see you.
I want to see you in Milan.
Kim Sunoo took longer to respond than usual, but Sunghoon somehow wasn’t worried. Out of the two of them, Kim Sunoo was the bolder of the two, dropping compliments here and there shamelessly, honey-sweet words that would fluster Sunghoon and confuse him. It felt nice to flip it on Kim Sunoo for a change.
01:32
I don’t know if you’ll have enough time to do that
01:35
You’re gonna be really busy once you get to Milan
Sunghoon frowned.
01:37
It doesn’t matter how busy I get, I will make time to see you.
01:39
If I have to make it all the way to the final to see you at the closing ceremony, I’ll do it.
Sunghoon lowered his phone to the side, settling down on his seat to rest. The FIFA World Cup Kick-Off Celebration Concert would take place the day after tomorrow and they were expected to attend, but more importantly, Kim Sunoo was one of the star performers of the event. The Opening Ceremony as well as the first official match was the day after that. Sunghoon needed all the energy he could get.
Between the jet lag, the mounting excitement of the World Cup, and the energy gathering in the fashion capital of the world, the team buzzed with a high level of activity. The moment the plane touched ground, they were surrounded by people, staff, the media, and fans. They were ferried to their lodges in a caravan of buses and vans with all their luggage, equipment, and God knows what else. Sunghoon was truthfully overwhelmed by it all, but was greatly encouraged when Heeseung dropped on the seat next to him on the bus and thanked him.
“What are you thanking me for?” Sunghoon asked, mystified. Heeseung smiled, his gleaming white teeth reassuring.
“For handling all this,” he waved his hand around, “so well. You keep the team calm, focused. Everyone sees you standing tall and with your head raised against everything that comes our way. It’s inspiring. So reliable. Thank you, Captain.”
They bumped fists, and something finally settled within Sunghoon. The concert came and went that night, and though Sunghoon didn’t usually enjoy such large-scale events, the team had a lot of fun and it was infectious. He screamed his lungs out together with the crowd when Kim Sunoo took the stage towards the end of the concert, heart feeling ten times fuller. He jumped up and down, danced on his seat, pulled Jake and Kyungmin close and sang in their ears without a care in the world. He didn’t fail to text Kim Sunoo how much fun he’d had on his set, the idol sending back heart emojis.
The next day, donning for the first time their official jerseys and uniforms, lining up with the teams that had made it to this stage, their faces projected in the giant screens peppered throughout the stadium, Sunghoon felt the immensity of what was going to take place here in Milan. The roar of the crowd, the words in different languages being spoken over the intercom, the smell of the synthetic grass at his feet. The Captain band felt tight on his bicep, but not stifling. He and his team were standing at attention, eyes focused on the ceremony taking place. Compared to the concert last night, the Opening Ceremony was a much sober occasion with political and sports figureheads leading the event. In less time than he thought, the ceremony had come to an end and they were directed towards the exits, vacating the stage for the first official match to take place in two hours time.
Their first match was scheduled to take place the next day. They faced Belgium in a nail-biter game that saw its first goal until minute 63 by senior Lee Seongwoo and its second one on minute 84 by midfielder Lee Donggyeong, and ended in the first victory for the South Korean team with a final score of 2-1. This boosted everyone’s morale immensely. Their next game versus Panama also ended in a 2-0 victory for the team. Sunghoon’s days passed in a blur of strategizing, sleeping, eating, playing to then rinse and repeat.
Their next game versus England was a huge blow towards Sunghoon and the team. Despite their confidence and good streak up until that point, their 1-0 loss against England threatened the team’s progress towards the round of 16. Sunghoon felt somehow responsible for their loss, despite everyone’s reassurance that this wasn’t the case.
At the end of their group’s matches, it was the goal differential that gave the team the edge over England, the other runner-up in their group, and allowed them to progress to the round of 16. That night, some of his teammates bawled like babies back in their hotel rooms, relief and emotions running high. Sunghoon felt short of air, lightheaded, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. They were still here, they were moving forward, and they had another chance to keep fighting for that trophy at the end of all this. That night, Sunghoon received the sweetest congratulations from Kim Sunoo, and everything seemed possible right there and then.
The team faced Spain and the feared Thiago Alcantara in their next match, pulling a 1-0 victory thanks to Jake’s goal on minute 57. It was South Korea’s first time qualifying for the round of 8 in World Cup history. Their TD congratulated them all and told them that whatever happened in the next game, they had already made history and they could go back home filled with pride. For Sunghoon, nothing short of the final was good enough. He had his eyes set on another goal, and nothing was going to get in the way of him reaching it. He had always thrown himself completely into achieving great things, and he had always felt an echoing emptiness within him after reaching a new peak, feeling terribly lonely at the end of the day. For the first time in Sunghoon’s life, he was doing something about this loneliness-shaped hole in his life, and it felt right to do so.
Their next match versus Brazil ended in a 1-0 victory for them thanks to Hweechan’s goal, landing them on South Korea’s first final four. Sunghoon couldn’t believe more than two weeks had passed since first arriving in Milan, and that they were getting closer and closer to the end. The team really could not celebrate as effusively as they would have liked since they wanted to maintain their condition, but some of the assistant staff somehow got ahold of some soju from who knows where and livened up their gathering that night.
Now that they were in the final four, their matches were scheduled more far in between than in the beginning. A lot of their days were now suddenly filled with interviews and meetings with all sorts of sponsors and important figures. When he expressed his frustration over dealing with these sorts of events, Kim Sunoo comforted him and offered him a few tips on what to answer on certain kinds of questions or other such helpful advice, or sometimes simply consoled and encouraged him with sweet words.
The next match was against Portugal, who matched their team’s aggressive passes strategy, causing them difficulty. The number of contacts that each team had with the ball in this game kept climbing higher and higher, few chances for scoring presenting themselves. It was finally Heeseung’s goal that secured the team’s ticket to the final against Germany. The roar of the stadium at the final whistle shook Sunghoon to the core, the team running as one to crowd Heeseung. It took Hyeonwoo’s almost 2 meters of height to pluck Heeseung from the team’s clutches, the cheering and celebrations getting a little too rough.
Sunghoon shed tears every time he was interviewed post-game, smile breaking free despite his best attempts at appearing cool, calm, and collected. He didn’t think there could be another feeling like the one he was currently experiencing, heart soaring. Getting scouted by MAN UTD, getting to first string, becoming a regular player — nothing could compare to getting his team to the World Cup’s final. Except maybe what — no, who — was waiting for him at the end of all this.
19:33
We made it to the finals.
19:43
I know
Sunghoon pulled the phone to his chest, a smile inevitably arching on his lips.
19:45
I am going to see you at the Closing Ceremony.
I told you I would.
19:50
You did tell me
You never fail to surprise me, Park Sunghoon
19:53
How’s a guy supposed to resist such attentions?
19:55
Don’t resist.
Don’t resist me.
19:56
Give me your heart, Kim Sunoo, and I will give you the World Cup trophy.
That Sunday evening, right before the closing ceremony, Sunghoon made sure to wish Kim Sunoo good luck. He had heard from Lee Hweechan that the performance would be broadcasted in more than 215 countries to over 600 million viewers, so he figured the idol would feel a bit nervous. He was gratified when he received a response almost immediately, the message saying that now that he knew Sunghoon would be watching his performance attentively, he would give it his 110 percent. Sunghoon felt ridiculously endeared at this.
Entering the stadium one last time, jersey sitting comfortably on his frame, the Captain band’s weight on his arm a comforting one, Park Sunghoon urged his eyes to capture everything like a video camera would, wanting to remember this moment forever. There was a strange reverence in his and his team’s eyes, resolution burning within them. Whatever challenge they were about to face, they had never faced the likes of it before, but they were about to jump into the thick of it together as a team and that’s all they had needed until now.
A lot of emotive speeches and motivational words were shared in that locker room that afternoon, and though the words were now lost in Sunghoon’s memories, their impact is one that he carried with him for many years to come. When the time came for him to say something, more than forty pairs of eyes locked unto his, the knot in Sunghoon’s throat dissolved into nothing, and he spoke.
He didn’t know how long he spoke for, or what he said exactly, but his team roared with him at the end of it, and it shook off any lingering doubt and fear in his marrow and bones. They all rushed and embraced in the middle, a tangle of limbs and smiling faces. They walked out to the light of the stadium as a single man, souls and hearts aligned. Standing in the middle of the field, both feeling incredibly small and Herculean at the same time, Sunghoon’s eyes somehow zeroed in on one of the preferred seating areas where a familiar blonde head bobbed up and down on its seat. He felt settled in his skin and in his cleats.
After the South Korean national anthem came the Germany national anthem. Sunghoon knew Germany was the favorite to win, yet South Korea had unexpected passionate support from the fans as a rising dark horse that made it to the final. Some of the German players seemed ridiculously large, better fit for rugby or another such contact sport. A few other words were boomed over the speakers all over the stadium, and the first whistle rang in the next seconds like a gunshot. Sunghoon did not have a chance to think much after that because the tension and aggressiveness ramped up immediately.
Sunghoon knew immediately this game was not going to be like any other they’ve had when Germany committed a foul within the first two minutes of the match. The sharp whistle from the referee broke through the blood rushing in Sunghoon’s ears. More than a soccer match, the first half became a bodily strength match with all the fouls being committed left and right, including Sunghoon’s team that had gotten tired of being shoved around by Germany. By the end of the first half, Germany had accumulated four yellow cards while South Korea had two. Sunghoon was growing increasingly frustrated at their inability to complete any play because the referees kept having to intervene. The crowd’s booing increased as well, especially after a nasty play that sent Kyungmin tumbling into the sidelines.
Half-time was a tense affair, their bodies bruised and stinging. Their staff worked tirelessly to numb as many of their aches as possible, and their TD switched their strategy to one that seemed to Sunghoon more of a throw-a-punch-first-ask-questions-later approach. The whistle that indicated the beginning of the second half came too soon, the team hurrying to huddle and encourage each other before heading back on the field. The break seemed to flare more violence instead of assuaging it, the fouls increasing as the minutes on the clock scurried away. Sunghoon was violently pulled back by the jersey and thrown to the ground, where the players running right behind him could not avoid him in time and stepped all over him. He laid on the ground dazed for a couple of seconds before Heeseung’s worried face swam into focus. This gave Germany their sixth yellow card of the game, and a free throw for Sunghoon. The shot went a little high, the German goalie easily sending it sailing over the net.
He willed himself to shake off the fall and concentrate on not only surviving the rest of the game but also look for opportunities to score. With his heart on his throat, he saw Hyeonwoo save a shot from going in at the very last millisecond with the side of his cleat. The ferocity only kept increasing, reaching the seventh yellow card of the match for Germany and the fourth for South Korea, ending with the expulsion of a German midfielder after a nasty elbow to the face to their forward Kwon Changhoon that resulted in a very bloody nose. Sunghoon figured the nose was broken.
The whistle that signaled the end of the second half came as a surprise to Sunghoon, mind still caught up in dodging hits and pulls. He only had the fleeting thought that 90 minutes was possibly not enough time to accomplish what they had set out to do before the team was called to the bench by the TD.
“They’re giving us the two extra time periods,” the TD confirmed, face grim, “and we need to end it there before we head to tie-breaking kicks. We are at a disadvantage there and we know it.”
Sunghoon wiped the sweat off his face with the collar of his jersey, mouth pulled down. The TD was right. Their forwards were good, but Germany’s forwards had proven to be monsters. South Korea had to rely more on their strong Defense to keep the score at zero this time around. Besides, anything could happen during the kicks, and it would all fall on Hyeonwoo’s shoulders. Sunghoon didn’t want that weight on his goalie’s mind. He was their fucking Captain for a reason.
They were quickly sent back to the field to continue on to the first extra time period. On minute 103, another German player got sent out of the game after a foul against Donggyeong, marking Germany’s eight yellow card. South Korea promptly reached their fifth yellow card of their game as well.
The second extra time period began, and the bile in Sunghoon’s throat kept threatening to rise out of his mouth. On minute 115, South Korea got a chance at a failed attempt at scoring close to their penalty area, where Sunghoon’s body scrambled for the ball before his mind could catch up to him. He saw an opening with Heeseung, and he sent it over to him. Their side seemed swarmed by German players, but somehow Sunghoon could clearly see around him as if in slow motion. He saw Heeseung make a pass to Kyungmin, who together with Jake and Hweechan, took the ball past the half-way line and into German territory. Sunghoon willed his legs to go faster, trying to reach his teammates.
It took a moment to realize what had happened, the noise in the stadium reaching a point where the very heavens seemed to shake. Seungwoo had scored the match’s first goal on minute 116, pushing South Korea closer to the World Cup title. He ran with all his might to the group of teammates that had rushed to crowd Seungwoo. Sunghoon’s feet felt like they had wings on them, jumping into the fray and being caught in the arms of the man of the hour, who had shed his jersey somewhere as he celebrated the goal. Sunghoon felt blinded by the flashing lights, the noise, and the proximity of his teammates. A whistle reminded everybody that the game still had four minutes to go, but Sunghoon’s heart had landed among the stars.
Sunghoon can’t recall play by play what he did in the next following four minutes, but it ultimately didn’t matter. The final whistle blew and with it marked the end of the World Cup’s final match. His throat couldn’t possibly produce more sound, his yelling lost within the cacophony that took over the stadium and the announcement that, for the very first time in history, South Korea was a World Cup champion. The whole team and bench had poured onto the field, where they all held each other close, joyous shouting and tears accompanying their figures.
They were firmly directed to line up for the awarding of the iconic trophy and corresponding medals, and never in his life had Sunghoon wanted to stop celebrating and hugging his teammates less than in this moment, but his Captain role took precedence and he ordered everyone into walking orderly towards the sidelines. However, it was like they were all glued to each other, arms thrown over each other’s shoulders, some of the guys getting carried on piggy-back and on princess carries as they made their way to their assigned spot. Sunghoon couldn’t muster the courage to scold them, his own arm thrown over Jake and the other waving at the frenzied crowd.
The team waited impatiently for the trophy to appear. A guy in a suit Sunghoon assumed must be some important Italian figure walked into the field soon after holding a small trunk Sunghoon had only seen on TV; he knew the trophy was in there. After ceremoniously opening the trunk and raising the heavy-looking trophy for the stadium and the world to see, the man in a suit set it down on a pedestal in the middle of the field and took his leave with a model-like woman hanging from his arm. Sunghoon hadn’t quite caught their names. The FIFA President, together with three of his vice-presidents, solemnly walked and stood in front of both teams. They produced medals that they proceeded to hang from both teams’ necks, Germany for being finalists and South Korea for being world champions.
The FIFA President finally headed over to the pedestal and grabbed the trophy, turning to the South Korean team. Sunghoon’s eyes could barely see through the sweat and tears. The roaring of the crowd had somehow become muted in his head, but the closer the trophy came their way, the more the mounting excitement of the audience crescendoed. When the President was close enough to them, Sunghoon heard him ask them who he should give the trophy to. The sure and joyful shout of “To Park Sunghoon!” warmed Sunghoon to the bone, making him laugh and cry even harder. He saw the man’s hands extend his way with their precious cargo.
He didn’t know what he expected, but the trophy was warm to the touch and incredibly heavy. Its weight felt right in his hands. He drew it close to his face and landed a kiss on the top of its round shape. He raised it above his head and shouted, his teammates joining in and raising their hands above their heads in celebration. Sunghoon shook the trophy in his hands above his head, his face filling the screens as the crowd cheered. The screens started displaying different seating sections where you could see fans celebrating the victory, painted red and blue faces and bodies jumping up and down, flags and clothes flowing in the wind.
The screens then focused on Kim Sunoo’s face who had been in the midst of hugging his seatmate and celebrating the idol’s home country win. His red lips were pulled in the widest of grins. His performance make-up, which consisted of colorful crystals that covered from his forehead down to his fine nose and under his eyes, reflected winks of light onto the surfaces close to him. He was sporting the South Korean jersey on top of the outfit he had performed with earlier. The screens were able to capture Kim Sunoo’s face journey from joyful to confused as his eyes settled on something off the screen.
Park Sunghoon broke away from his team and made his way to Kim Sunoo with the trophy in his hands. He jogged trying to get there faster, his teammates’ shouts of encouragement and his restless heart propelling him forward. He could see in the screens Kim Sunoo’s confusion, yet the idol still made his way out of the seat and descended the remaining stairs to reach the end of the seating section, the only thing separating him from Sunghoon a banister and a meter of concrete. Sunghoon thought it was hilarious how he always seemed to be looking up at Kim Sunoo, a figure above him, a star in the skies, but things were different now. He reached the raised concrete platform and hoisted himself up, scrambling for purchase with his feet and arms as he tried not to drop the trophy on his head and die of a concussion.
“What are you doing?” Kim Sunoo shouted, panic in his voice.
He leaned over the banister to catch Sunghoon under the armpits and pull him up. The idol was surprisingly strong, lifting Sunghoon effortlessly. Once Sunghoon had thrown his arms over the banister, feet securely pushing against the platform, he deigned to throw a smile to the blonde. Kim Sunoo smiled back, amused and exasperated in equal parts. Their faces were incredibly close to each other, Sunghoon almost going cross-eyed at the nearness.
“Hello,” he greeted, voice hoarse after all the screaming he had done.
“Hello to you, too,” Kim Sunoo responded, smiling at him. His eyes looked brighter than the crystals adorning his face and clothes.
“I came to give you this,” Sunghoon explained, pushing the trophy into Kim Sunoo’s hands, “like I told you I would.”
“I’m pretty sure you guys still need this,” Kim Sunoo shot back without much heat, gingerly taking the trophy from Sunghoon, who took advantage of his free hands to more securely raise himself up on the banister. His arms and legs were shaking with exhaustion, the toll of the last month starting to take hold of him.
Kim Sunoo’s eyebrows dropped, his mouth naturally forming a pout. He seemed to take pity on Sunghoon.
“Park Sunghoon, what are you doing here?” he asked, voice dropping into a whisper that Sunghoon still somehow heard clear as day. Kim Sunoo’s eyes seemed to search for something in his. Sunghoon knew he would find it all in them.
“I came to collect your heart,” he said, the most sure he’d ever been of anything in his life, “because I have given you the World Cup trophy like I told you I would and because you already have my heart. You’ve had it for a long, long time now. It’s only fair.”
“You did tell me that,” Kim Sunoo agreed with him, depositing the trophy back in Sunghoon’s hands. His hands now busy, Sunghoon could only hold on to the banister for dear life when Kim Sunoo’s soft, soft hands circled his cheeks and curled behind his sweaty, matted hair to pull him even closer. He closed the gap between their lips, landing a searing kiss on Sunghoon’s lips. Sunghoon could feel every bump of noses, every shift in their moving lips, every bob of their throats as they resisted the urge to break for air. The crystals glued to Kim Sunoo’s face scratched Sunghoon’s face a little, the other’s fluttering eyelashes then sweeping over the area soothingly.
The kiss lasted several eternities in Sunghoon’s head, but it was probably five seconds at most. When they both pulled back to look at the other, Sunghoon felt the last piece click in place within him. Kim Sunoo smiled at him, blush apparent even under the heavy make-up. His lips were enticingly reddened, and Sunghoon could taste some kind of fruity flavor on his from their kiss.
“You can’t collect something you already have, silly. In case you haven’t realized, I kinda really sort of like you. Romantic stylez.”
Sunghoon laughed, almost slipping down the platform. Kim Sunoo made a grab for him again.
“Is that a yes?” Sunghoon asked again, wanting to make sure.
Kim Sunoo rolled his eyes.
“It’s a super yes, Park Sunghoon. Kind of hard to say no to the guy that brought you the World Cup trophy, you see,” he sassed, tucking a strand of Sunghoon’s hair behind his ear, “now please take that trophy back to your team and wrap up all this celebration stuff properly. I will wait for you.”
Sunghoon smiled and dropped down the platform, catching himself before tumbling to his knees, trophy and all. He ran towards his team who impossibly cheered even louder and ran towards him with open arms to meet him halfway. Sunghoon threw the trophy into the closest hands and jumped into the fray.
The first time Park Sunghoon met Kim Sunoo, Sunghoon had been 18 and Kim Sunoo had been 17. Sunghoon had been a freshman at university on a sports scholarship for soccer, with prospects as limitless as stars in the night sky, while Kim Sunoo had been a newly debuted star that had gone viral overnight.
The first time Park Sunghoon kissed Kim Sunoo, Sunghoon was 28 and Kim Sunoo was 27. Sunghoon was the Captain of the newly crowned South Korean team that won the World Cup for the first time in its history, while Kim Sunoo was the brightest star the world had seen in decades.
For Sunghoon, Kim Sunoo was not only the brightest star; he was the North Star, which had finally guided him home. He had followed that star to the ends of the Earth, and it had guided him true. Their story together was just beginning.