Second Half Chapter 24

Since it was confirmed that their goal of winning the Champions League overlapped, it was now time to call for a temporary truce. If they kept bickering like this every time, they would ruin matches that were otherwise winnable. More than anything, he was a midfielder mainly responsible for playmaking, and Aaron was the striker responsible for that attack. Just as Manager Verdi said, if their chemistry didn’t match, they had to make it match—even by force.

Aaron, who had been laughing as if a hole had been poked in his lungs, twitched the corners of his eyes at Jerim’s words.

“What rules?”

“If I’m going to play for the next few years with a guy I broke up with 10 years ago, we’re going to need rules.”

“Hmm, fine. Let’s hear them.”

Fortunately, Aaron seemed willing to comply. Before Aaron’s mood—which was as fickle as British weather—could twist again for some unknown reason, Jerim quickly folded his thumb and took the floor.

“First, no more bullshit like earlier. Skinship is only allowed during goal ceremonies.”

If he were subjected to crazy stunts like suddenly being kissed on the neck or bitten again, Jerim didn’t know what he might do. Regardless of disciplinary action, he was afraid he’d punch the guy’s face and end up on the front page of the newspapers the next day.

And for some reason, this guy’s lower half… seemed to react regardless of the owner’s will… To avoid walking the path of a beast, it was only right to fundamentally block any unexpected physical contact. Except for goal ceremonies, since other teammates would be piled on anyway and no one would know who was hugging whom.

However, from the very first condition Jerim had carefully considered, Aaron reacted with indifference.

“You’re the one who pulled the bullshit. I didn’t.”

“What did you say, you bastard?”

“From what I’ve seen, you’re quite good at pulling bullshit with Lehmann or William. Are you having an office romance? Still, you’re the captain; you shouldn’t go around muddying the waters like that.”

Even though he had told him he hadn’t met a man since breaking up with him, the guy was picking a fight for no reason. Jerim’s neck stiffened at a lineup that was frankly absurd for “bullshit partners.”

“Crazy. Lehmann is six years younger than me, and Will is a newlywed with a daughter. What do you take people for…”

“You’re light, lighter than a dandelion seed.”

Why did this guy call him “light” whenever he saw him, both then and now? It was a false accusation enough to drive one mad with injustice. The number of times Jerim had even dated was small for a successful soccer player, and because every relationship he did have ended in disaster, he hadn’t met anyone at all since the season before last.

Since his relationships always ended with him being dumped, he knew to some extent that he was the problem. However, even while having such mess-of-a-relationships, Jerim swore he had never once cheated. Unlike a certain someone right in front of his eyes.

“Ha! That’s you. I’ve never looked elsewhere while seeing someone.”

“Who looked elsewhere… Ah.”

Aaron, who had been answering nonchalantly as if the scandal with the actress—which had been quite a hot topic for a young player who had just joined the first team—was someone else’s business entirely, suddenly let out an exclamation. Aaron narrowed his eyes and asked back with a suspicious air.

“…So my scandal back then, I guess it did bother you? You said you weren’t curious. That’s why back then, too…”

As he said, it was Jerim himself who had claimed he wasn’t curious and that there was no need for excuses since the relationship had ended ages ago. Despite that, he had pointlessly mentioned the past first, like a human being who had been anxious about it all this time. Realizing his mistake, Jerim quickly added.

“Does it look like I’m asking because I’m curious right now? I’m being sarcastic, you idiot.”

“You aren’t in a position confident enough to be sarcastic to me, though? In the relationship itself, you were always lighter than I was.”

“What do you know to babble like that? Why the hell do you keep driving me into a corner as some light bastard?”

“At the very least, if you had been even half as serious as I was, you shouldn’t have ended the finale like that.”

“What more was I supposed to do with you after seeing those photos?”

At that, Aaron’s expression, which had been crumpled as if something were uncomfortable, transformed in an instant. It was a complete expressionlessness that made the viewer feel chilled. Jerim’s face, recalling that time, also froze cold.

The start of the scandal was an article that featured silhouettes of Aaron and that actress with a vulgar headline. Even Jerim didn’t pay it much mind at first, thinking it was just common third-rate trash. However, not long after, when photos of the two dating at a private riding club were released, it moved beyond the level of being dismissed as common third-rate trash.

And as if to mark the grand finale of the show, the last photo released showed Aaron lightly embracing Delgado while stroking her cheek, wearing an expression dripping with worry and affection.

That decisive photo was released a few days after the initial article. Until then, Aaron had offered no explanation, and Jerim smashed his phone in a fit of rage. After that, they had no contact with each other until they met at the World Cup. In Jerim’s memory, it was an affair that had just fizzled out like that.

“…Fuck, fine. Of course you would.”

Aaron chewed on a curse as he irritably ran a hand through his bangs. It was a tone that said, what would I expect from someone like you.

“Why are you swearing, you son of a bitch. You think I don’t know how to swear?”

When Jerim snapped back in a flare-up, Aaron didn’t respond further. They had fought their heart out and finally managed to create an atmosphere even a tiny bit warm, but Jerim, left in the silence that had returned, secretly regretted it.

He had meant to ask for a truce. That was why he said they should set rules. By bringing up unnecessary things and recalling unpleasant memories, the atmosphere had simply chilled. He thought he was fine now since it was a 10-year-old matter and he had no lingering feelings, but the more he thought about it, the more it felt like the emotions of that time were being revived.

‘I shouldn’t be like this.’

Whether he liked it or not, if he harbored purely private grudges and resentment against a teammate he had to share a meal with from now on, would the team function well?

Jerim, who had poured out his stale emotions once, suddenly snapped back to his senses. I am the captain. Our goal is the Champions League victory. If he didn’t keep reciting that, his string of reason would snap because of Aaron’s way of speaking. Instead of getting angrier, he controlled his emotions by imagining the shape of the Big Ear, which he could see clearly even with his eyes closed.

“Hey, fine. Don’t mention it anymore. I won’t mention it either. It’s not exactly a happy occasion to keep remembering.”

“…”

“Thinking about it now, we were practically broken up by then anyway… I was really young. We’re old as dirt now and it’s not like we’re going to try something again, so it’s even funnier to keep getting our feelings hurt over that issue. Let’s both just coolly forget.”

It was half a statement to himself. To get along with Aaron as a colleague, he had to forget the past. However, Aaron suddenly wore a displeased face even though the victim was offering to coolly forget.

“…You’re really.”

“What.”

“The same as you were back then. Very… cool. It’s a compliment.”

As if he’d believe a compliment given with a face like he’d swallowed a piece of shit. Jerim, having narrowly swallowed back a curse, recited the next rule.

“Second rule: don’t needle people. That includes sniping at me in interviews.”

“As long as you don’t needle me first, I won’t have a reason to do that.”

“When did I ever needle you?”

“Just now, again.”

After he had gone to the trouble of calling for a truce… at that level, isn’t my existence itself just a nuisance to him? However, since he felt the same way—his existence being a nuisance regardless of Aaron’s utility—he didn’t press the matter. After that, Jerim recited a few more rules.

No acting like we used to date. No calling each other by past nicknames. No excessive pretending to be close. But also, no keeping such a distance that it causes rumors of a feud. No mocking reporters during interviews. No excessive provocation toward opposing players. No teasing the manager or teammates. No lying.

The more he spoke, the more even Jerim got confused about what the word “forbidden” exactly meant. To Aaron, who was listening quietly, it must have felt even more tiresome. As soon as Jerim folded all ten of his fingers, Aaron clicked his tongue as if he wanted him to hear.

“A club where the captain reigns like a tyrant. I didn’t realize Sefton was a monarchy.”

“If I were a real tyrant, I would have cut your head off and finished it long ago.”

“If you cut my head off, what about the Big Ear?”

“…”

“I guarantee you, you can’t kick me out. Just watch.”