⚽️Chapter 16: Boom Seok

Coach Park's home sat in one of the quieter, more affluent parts of town. The air was still, like even the wind had manners here. A small garden trimmed with care, wind chimes that whispered instead of clanged, and windows that reflected peace.

It was the kind of house where laughter sounded natural. The kind Min Son had only seen from a distance.

Inside, the scent of jasmine and grilled mackerel lingered in the air. Framed academy photos decorated the hallway — team wins, proud faces, trophies, memories.

Coach Park pulled his wife aside in hushed tones.

"He's been through a lot," he said. "But he's the best I've ever coached. Honestly… there's a 70% chance he plays in Europe."

His wife, Hye-jin, pressed her hand to her chest. "That bad?"

"Worse," Park said, his eyes heavy. "But also… that good."

Hye-jin sighed, then smiled. "Eun-ae's always wanted a younger sibling."

She walked over to Min Son and knelt slightly. "You're welcome here. We've got a room for you."

Min Son bowed deeply, murmuring, "Thank you, ma'am."

She led him down the hallway and unlocked an unused room. Dust floated through beams of sunlight. A closet creaked open to reveal neatly folded old academy shirts.

"We'll clean this up together," she said gently.

They did. Hye-jin even took his dirty clothes to the washing machine, smiling as she worked. "You rest. Breakfast soon."

He laid on the bed, stared at the ceiling... and slipped into sleep.

---

He jolted awake.

BANG. The door flung open.

"Aish! You're the new kid, right?"

Min Son flinched.

A girl with bright rough blonde hair, in a singlet and bum shorts, like some who just woke up from a 5 weeks sleep. burst in grinning. "I'm Eun-ae! You call me Noona, alright? I'm older. Respect your elders!"

He blinked at her, disoriented.

"Oh, don't look so scared. I won't bite," she added, already messing with his hair. "I'm nineteen, you look like… ten? Eleven? You're like a puppy."

He managed a tiny smile, but said nothing.

She kept talking, bouncing between stories about school and weird classmates. Then she reached for his arm and paused.

Her eyes briefly scanned the faint bruises.

Her grin faded for a split second.

"...Hey. You like mint chocolate? It's disgusting. I'll share."

He just nodded. Her energy was overwhelming, but not bad. Just… foreign.

"Breakfast!" Hye-jin called from the kitchen.

---

The table was already full: rice, kimchi, grilled mackerel, doenjang-jjigae, and banchan.

Coach Park sat calmly, sipping tea. Eun-ae dragged Min Son to a seat and dumped kimchi into his bowl.

He picked it up slowly, tasted it — saltier than his mother's, but still warm. It made something ache in his chest.

Coach Park said nothing but watched closely — the way Min Son held his chopsticks, how he glanced at others' bowls before eating, how he chewed like he expected someone to snatch the food away.

The boy barely spoke. But he eat steadly!

---

Min Son barely finished the last spoon of breakfast before she grabbed his wrist.

"Come on!"

"Huh?"

"You're not just going to lie down after eating, are you? Come with me!" said Eun-ae, dragging him back into the room, ignoring his dazed expression.

The boy blinked. His head was still foggy from sleeping on cold pavement just hours ago, yet her energy was relentless—like a typhoon with a smile.

"Hey. Do you know Boom Seok?"

He blinked. "Who?"

Eun-ae gasped like he'd kicked her puppy. "Yah! Are you even Korean? How can you not know Boom Seok?!"

"I don't," he muttered, a little confused.

She pressed her palm to her forehead dramatically. "Unbelievable. Clueless. This generation... Boom Seok is the greatest player to ever kick a football in the history of the world."

Min Son raised a brow. He thought to himself:

"The greatest? Did she even understand the weight of what she just said?"

A smile crept to the corner of his lips. It was rare—and awkward—but real.

Eun-ae didn't notice. She was already gushing. "He's number 11 for Seoul Blade FC. He's gonna be bigger than Messi, Platini, everyone! And also... he's my boyfriend," she added, her cheeks turning pink as she clasped her hands together like she'd won the lottery.

"…Boyfriend?" Min Son echoed, still trying to keep up.

"Well, not officially… but we've talked three times. And he gave me his number. That counts!"

Before he could process that logic, she turned toward the hallway and grabbed her purse.

"He was supposed to come over today," she pouted, "but his coach scheduled a surprise practice match, so I have to go to him. Sooo…"

She looked back at him with pleading eyes.

"You're coming with me."

Min Son's expression froze. "What? Why me?"

"Because you owe me for waking you up gently," she grinned. "And besides, you're part of the family now, right? You'll love it. You'll get to see Boom Seok in person!"

He sighed. Deeply.

No, he didn't have much choice.

But part of him… didn't mind.

---

"Go shower and wear something decent," Eun-ae called as she leaned against the doorframe, sipping from a pink water bottle. "I won't have you walking beside me looking like a tired ghost."

Min Son blinked at her, still in the oversized T-shirt and wrinkled shorts he tried on earlier that morning.

"I don't really—"

"Exactly. You don't." She stomped toward his bag and began rifling through it. "Yah… seriously? This is it?"

She lifted a pair of worn-out pants with two fingers, as if it were radioactive.

"We're going shopping tomorrow," she declared. "For now, tuck in your shirt and try to look human."

---

Thirty minutes later, they were in an Uber headed to the Seoul Blade FC training grounds.

The car ride was mostly quiet. Min Son stared out the window, thoughts clouded. This was his first time seeing a professional training facility this close, and it looked like something from another world. The gates alone were bigger than the apartment block he used to live in.

The pitch they arrived at was pristine. Grandstands curled around one side. And already, boys and men—ranging from sixteen to their early twenties—were stretching, laughing, juggling balls, preparing.

It wasn't just boys. Several girls were gathered at the side. Some had handmade banners. Some were just there to smile at their boyfriends.

Eun-ae's phone buzzed.

"Oppa's here," she grinned.

A few moments later, Boom Seok strolled onto the scene.

He had the face of a K-pop idol, the confidence of a movie star, and the ego of a man who thought the world owed him a Ballon d'Or.

He walked straight up to Eun-ae, arms spread slightly. "You came."

She blushed instantly. "Of course I did!"

Boom Seok tilted his head toward Min Son.

"Who's that?"

"Oh! My cousin. He just moved in last night. He's a footballer too!" she said cheerfully. "My dad says he's the most talented kid he's ever seen. He's sure he'll play in Europe one day."

Min Son bowed politely.

Boom Seok didn't return it. He smirked.

Europe, huh.

That's what they all think, he scoffed internally.

He gave Min Son a slow once-over.

Short. Skinny. Hair's a mess. Doesn't even look like he's ever been in a gym. That's your big talent, Coach Park?

Boom Seok narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.

He doesn't have "it." Not like me. I'm the one meant to wear the armband at Barca, not some underfed street kid.

Out loud, he just said: "Nice to meet you."

But it was so flat, it sounded like "Good luck staying out of my way."

Then he turned back to Eun-ae with a grin. "Stay after the match, okay? I want to hear you cheering."

"I will!" she nodded.

"Good. After the match, we go out."

He winked. Then jogged toward his teammates.

Min Son stood quietly beside her, still watching.

"Isn't he dreamy?" she whispered.

Min Son didn't respond.

But deep inside… something twisted.

Not jealousy. Not admiration.

Just indifference.

⚽️ End Of The Match

The referee blew the final whistle.

2–0. Boom Seok's team had won.

The boys on the pitch cheered like they'd just won a final. Some exchanged high fives; others jogged to the sideline to gulp water and collapse into the grass.

Min Son had sat quietly the whole time, under the shade near the metal bleachers, arms folded, eyes fixed.

He hadn't clapped.

He hadn't smiled.

But he'd watched everything.

Boom Seok scored one goal and assisted the other.

He was flashy. Confident. Always demanding the ball. Every touch was performed like there was a camera on him. And when the match ended, he ran toward Eun-ae like a prince returning from war.

"Oppaaa!" she squealed, rushing onto the pitch. "You were amazing!"

She literally jumped on him, wrapping her arms around his neck. The other girlfriends joined their boyfriends too, laughing, posing for selfies, some already streaming on Instagram.

Min Son remained where he was.

Watching.

Boom Seok was good. There was no denying it.

But to Min Son's trained eyes—

To someone who had spent his nights breaking down passing lanes, studying body feints, and replaying every failed Blitz Curl until his toes went numb—

There were cracks.

Boom Seok never looked over his shoulder before receiving.

His off-the-ball movement lacked bite.

He didn't track back.

His weight of pass was decent—but nothing special.

His assist? Came from a deflection. Lucky.

But Min Son said nothing.

He didn't smirk. Didn't scoff. Didn't whisper anything under his breath.

Instead, he just sat still.

Hands between his knees.

Eyes calm, lips unreadable.

I saw it all.

But he wasn't here to argue. He wasn't here to prove anything.

The sun hung lower now, casting long shadows over the turf.

Boom Seok dried the sweat off his neck with his training bib, then turned his attention back to Min Son — the quiet boy sitting under the shade, still unmoved.

His lips curled into a crooked, self-satisfied smirk, the kind that didn't ask for approval—it assumed it.

> "After watching me today…" Boom Seok thought, adjusting his sleeve with deliberate flair. "He probably gets it now. The weight of reality. If someone like me—faster, taller, cleaner—still hasn't gone to Europe… what hope does someone like him even have?"

He rolled his shoulders like a man carrying destiny on his back.

Around him, the other players began to leave, exchanging playful jabs and one last laugh with their girlfriends. Their cleats clacked against pavement as they disappeared into the locker rooms.

Eun-ae approached with a bounce in her step, eyes gleaming.

"So… where are we going?" she asked, voice light, expectant. Her cheeks were flushed—not from the sun, but from excitement.

Boom Seok didn't meet her eyes immediately.

Instead, he looked toward the goalpost—a large, circular target strapped to the upper right corner. The 90-degree angle. The dream corner.

He raised a hand, pointed like a general giving orders.

> "Sorry, babe," he said, voice slow and carefully regretful. "I've got a ritual. Gotta hit that top bin thirty times. Every day. Non-negotiable."

The apology was mechanical. But the pride in his voice wasn't.

Eun-ae's face dropped a little. "You're kidding, right? You said we'd go out today…"

Boom Seok offered a half-hearted shrug.

> "I'll make it up to you. I promise."

Then—with the grin of someone who knew he could get away with anything—he turned to Min Son.

> "By the way," he said, pacing a few steps closer. "Our usual ball boy's out today. And I kinda need one to keep count for me."

His eyes locked onto Min Son's.

Not cold.

Not warm.

Just full of arrogant amusement. Like he was doing the boy a favor.

> "You mind?" he added, tilting his head and arching a brow with smug charm. "Would you do me the honor?"

His words were smooth.

But the tone? Insult wrapped in velvet.

He might as well have said, "Stand there, little kid, and watch what a real footballer looks like."

Min Son didn't answer right away.

He stared.

Expression flat.

Emotion unreadable.

Then, silently, he stood up.