Second Half Chapter 8

It would soon be time for dinner, and after eating and doing a few things, it would be time for bed. And then there was tomorrow’s schedule. To get even a little bit of proper rest before this evening, he had to kick Aaron out immediately. The exhausted Jerim waved his hand again at the guy who stood his ground as if he hadn’t heard the dismissal.

“I told you to get out? If you have something to say, do it later.”

“Are you getting married?”

An incredibly out-of-the-blue question flew at his back. Jerim turned around reflexively. He didn’t even bother trying to hide the absurdity covering his face.

“What?”

“I asked if you’re getting married. You said you have plans to get married soon. To whom, exactly?”

Did he see some weird tabloid somewhere? Since he lived a daily life where just talking friendly with a woman in public resulted in a flood of articles like <Ban Jerim, Marriage Imminent. Partner is a Beautiful Non-celebrity>, he wondered if that was it again.

But he soon recalled the jokes he made in the recent interview and narrowed his eyes slightly.

‘I’m at the age where I should be getting married soon.’

‘The heart is always more than willing.’

It seemed those words had been translated and their tone shifted to sound like he was getting hitched right away. Or that he was dying to get married quickly. It was a truly ridiculous misunderstanding. It was purely a joke to lighten the atmosphere; Jerim hadn’t even dreamed of marriage.

He had even quit all the relationships he’d started because he couldn’t bear the occasional surge of loneliness, realizing in the end that they were like clothes that didn’t fit him—so marriage was out of the question. After retirement, if a time came when he could turn his soccer-obsessed attention elsewhere, he might consider dating and marriage, but not now.

What he had felt while playing at love with that guy back in his ignorant teenage years was that there was no act as harmful to the spirit as dating. For Jerim, whose performance was heavily influenced by his mental state, mental management was essential, so he naturally grew distant from romance.

And toward this man before him, who had given him that realization—a realization akin to a life truth—Jerim felt no urge to bother correcting the misunderstanding. Let him believe what he wants. Jerim, turning back toward the bed, simply raised his hand and waved it. Even then, having a sense of responsibility as the captain, he rattled off a list of reminders.

“Go unpack and rest instead of barking nonsense. Don’t fall asleep. Dinner is from six o’clock…”

“Doesn’t Korea forbid same-sex marriage?”

Before Jerim could take another step, a languid murmur drifted from behind him. His tone sounded genuinely inquisitive. At the words that seemed to believe he would naturally marry a man, Jerim came to a dead halt.

‘Does he think he turned me gay or something?’

Jerim, who had lived knowing himself only as a firm heterosexual, had his first relationship with a man—and one who was 10cm taller than him with a different nationality and race at that—because of Aaron, yes, but that was a very specific case.

The reasons a relationship with Aaron was possible were: first, they were both at the young age of 16; second, they lived intimately in a dormitory teeming only with men; and third, that age wasn’t called “the bloom of youth” for nothing. At an age when curiosity and sexual desire are boiling over, when a handsome and cute friend sets his mind on seducing you, it was irresistible for the body and heart to move.

Even more, Jerim and Aaron were both in the same situation of having skipped grades to be in the highest age group among the various youth teams divided by age, so they couldn’t help but become close. They ate, slept, studied, and trained together. When you share every bit of daily life from the moment you open your eyes until you close them, how can you not develop feelings?

The point was, it was unfair to be misunderstood as someone who would naturally have a same-sex marriage. In fact, Jerim had only dated women after breaking up with Aaron, so it was a stretch to call him bisexual, let alone gay. Since he had never even felt sexual arousal toward a man other than Aaron, Aaron was simply a very special case.

And what’s with this jerk knowing whether same-sex marriage is legalized in someone else’s country? Honestly…. While grumbling fiercely inside, the words he actually spat out were monotonous and blunt. It was based on the calculation that there was no need to feed a guy who had been dying to pick a fight since the airport.

“Yeah, I’m doing it with a woman, so mind your own business.”

“How? You like men’s dicks.”

Pfft. At the retort mixed with a scoff of ridicule, Jerim finally turned around.

Don’t feed the troll, don’t feed the troll. His reason screamed out desperately, but his body, which was already sufficiently pissed off, moved instinctively. Whenever an opposing team provoked him, his temperament—to endure until he could escape the referee’s eyes and then somehow secretly, definitely get his revenge—was triggered without fail once again.

Jerim leaned against the wall, standing with his weight on one leg. A full, sneering smile appeared on his face as if painted there.

“Are you introducing yourself? You’re the one who’s absolutely crazy for it.”

“Right, we both are. Isn’t that why we dated?”

Jerim’s gaze sharpened further at the voice that just slyly laughed it off. The sight of him not losing a single word and even adding a bonus on top was both unfamiliar and unpleasant.

That guy must be doing this because he’s angry about something too, but Jerim couldn’t guess the reason at all. To say there was a grudge left over from fighting and breaking up 10 years ago, his tone when mentioning the past was quite playful and favorable.

Then was he angry because Jerim shook off his hand at the last final? That made even less sense. If he had felt humiliated by his goodwill being ignored, he wouldn’t have transferred to Sefton in the first place. He clearly knew it was the club where his ex-lover was serving as captain.

It was also a minor incident to be talking about humiliation over something like that. Rationally, he would have obviously felt bad, but it was the kind of thing where a light psychological battle at the airport should have been enough, not something to keep biting at someone like a crazy dog.

‘…What on earth is it.’

Just what was this bastard so angry about that he acted like someone who had spent the last 10 years practicing how to speak like absolute shit instead of playing soccer? After agonizing for a moment, Jerim suddenly felt a sense of skepticism and tossed the thought away.

It’s not like I’m a kindergarten teacher; do I really need to know the reason this bastard is mad? Maybe he just hates me. He had been holding onto it and agonizing over it, which didn’t suit him, when he knew things would be easier if he just thought that way.

Jerim let out a sharp breath, making a mess of his neatly styled hair. His bangs, hit by his breath, floated up and settled back down. Sweeping those bangs back up to clear his vision, Jerim glared at Aaron and smirked.

“I haven’t met a man since I ended things with you. Where does a slut like you get off treating me like the same thing.”

Ah, I really wasn’t going to fight. Even as he spat out the derogatory term ‘slut’ as if it were nothing, he lamented inwardly. Regrettably, Jerim also possessed the ability to speak infinitely vulgarly specifically to those who picked a fight with him, so the conversation ultimately spiraled toward catastrophe.

Would they end up fighting again like the old days, saying things they could and couldn’t take back? But it didn’t matter. Back then, because they liked each other, the fight itself was a heavy blow, but now it would just be a bit annoying; emotionally, there would be no impact at all. No, wait, I’ll be pissed if I lose, so I’d better win first.

However, as if to make his sharp edge meaningless, Aaron’s following words drained all the strength out of Jerim.

“I’m the first and the last? That sounds a bit romantic.”

That guy’s ears must have a function that automatically filters out the word ‘slut’. Like William, who has a filter that over-interprets whatever is said as something disparaging his own body….

At the out-of-the-blue, nutjob-like response, Jerim lost his will to fight. It was the same logic as being able to take down a madman wielding a knife, but having to run away from a madman who suddenly strips off his clothes and rushes at you naked. Jerim asked, twirling his finger against his temple.

“Are you perhaps out of it because you haven’t adjusted to the jet lag? Should I call the team doctor?”

“I’m perfectly fine. Thanks for worrying.”

Maybe it’s not a jet lag issue, but some other mental-related problem. Come to think of it, he had heard somewhere that if there’s a problem with the brain, the personality can turn violent. Since he’s a guy who headers the ball quite often, it was better to believe that repeated impact to his head had caused brain damage.