You see, all it takes is the smallest, briefest glimmer of absolute greatness, of potential brilliance, and everyone is instantly enamoured by you. When the myth is not fully realized, and the hype yet to culminate, every display, every mere peek, makes people expect the absolute best that you will offer to the world.

They fawn at your very existence.

Women love you.

Men love you even more.

Your team loves you—if your prowess, as it were, didn't make it painfully obvious.

Your coaches love you.

People have endless praises for you.

South Korea 4 - 1 Thailand (U-17) - Highlights.

364k views.

13.9k likes.

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"An absolute marvel, what a phenomenal goal! Our future is looking mighty bright! Simply extraordinary!"

"That young lad... whatever he's having... could you please serve us some of that? I'll gladly pay double for it."

"Fucking hell! That third goal was simply monstrous!"

"He's too hot, I can't ㅠㅠ"

"The boy's on fire."

"You're gonna need water to wash down the heat he brings to the game."

"Kim Jun-hwan's goated too."

"He's too hot, I can't ㅠㅠ"

↳ "You've already said that..."

↳ "BUT HE'S REALLY TOO HOT, I CAN'T ㅠㅠ"

↳ "Here, have a tissue."

And with every replay, with every viral clip circulating through countless feeds, the myth grows. And when it grows, the expectations rise. And when they rise, they can easily become too much for anyone to handle.

Some people might not be able to handle the pressure. Some might crack under it. And some will embrace the chaos and turn the tide into a wave of their own. But whatever happens, there's no stopping the hype train.

And that's the beautiful thing about it. It's an opportunity for all those that are involved.

Of course, just as praise was heaped upon me, the critics were going to have their fair share of words for the 'star player'.

"He's good, but Thailand isn't much to speak of, to be fair."

"This isn't anything special, just because you have some pace, and the rest aren't accustomed to that kind of play in this part of the world, doesn't make you some prodigy."

It was pretty common, seeing that side of the debate come about, especially when the competition's level didn't seem that high. That's the way the cookie crumbles. No one would think of me as the second coming of Maradona if I didn't do that exact performance against one of the giants of football.

And that was a valid thought as well, considering the circumstances of the match, and how our other opponents in the future were going to pose more difficult challenges for me to overcome. If we ever lost against any of them, that would cause an immediate drop in the hype and the praises.

Still, in the end, no matter what the opposing side was saying, the important part, the main point, the gist, was that the hype train was taking a ride all the way to Seoul Station.

And people were starting to hop onto the carriage, eager to see just how long the journey can really go.

After hours of cruising through the clouds, we finally made touchdown in South Korea. Incheon International Airport looked the same as ever. A hubbub of activity, the crowd flowing in and out of the airport's grand arch. "Finally home!" Jong-su cried out dramatically. "No offense, but Thailand isn't exactly where my heart's at."

Sung-tae snorted. "If your heart was a thing to offend, sure."

"Oh, why thank you!"

We gathered our baggage and prepared to go through customs.

I looked down at the bag in my hand. After an uneventful trip to Bangkok's busy center, where I was emotionally manipulated multiple times to go see the famous ladyboys of Asia's red-light district, and actually got shown a few pictures for 'verification' purposes, I threw my teammates a flat, disdainful look and spent my free time wandering the markets and shops, carefully hunting for gifts for my sisters and mother.

Dae-hyun still avoided my gaze; that nasty bastard. Sung-tae looked nervously at me and averted his eyes the moment I turned my gaze on him.

The rest were at a loss for words as if the only thing they could come up with was: 'Uh... she really was kinda pretty though.'

"You're a nasty piece of work as well." I looked at Jong-su next to me, and snorted contemptuously.

"I was the one trying to help you, dude! Why can't you see it?"

I gave him a scornful stare.

Anyway, that tidbit aside, I would have to hand it to Jong-su: he did keep a lot of things entertaining, considering our rather lackluster schedule and all. That alone kept me from fully blaming the man. Besides, there was hardly anything bad or incriminating about Thailand.

So far, nothing too exciting had happened in Bangkok, though the infamous red-light district of Patpong I heard a lot about had me momentarily stunned and wary, what with the exotic beauty of those Thai girls, all made up and pretty like peacocks in their tiny short-shorts.

Except that as the guys beside me remarked with a keen, hungry, eye, the 'peacocks' would transform into ugly pigeons after a thorough check, as it did turn out that a lot of them weren't even fully biological.

It would take a keen, experienced eye, however, to tell if what was being displayed under that fluorescent lighting was really a real-life, top-notch girl or a quite realistic replica made for one's 100% satisfaction and amusement. It didn't help matters that most of their patrons seemed to be more curious and enraptured, their wallets a little lighter by the second.

After we boarded the bus that'd take us back to Taereung National Training Center, there was a momentary silence. This time, everyone on the bus was thoroughly exhausted. It was mostly silent save for the hum of the air-conditioning unit, and some dozing off.

Coach had given us some more words of praise before we boarded, telling us we played a solid, united, focused game and the other half was on us.

Still, this friendly match against Thailand, however useful it turned out to be, was ultimately meaningless to our actual progress towards the upcoming FIFA World Cup training camp.

Compared to that, our subsequent performances would be much more critical of a judging parameter, and, as such, there'd be a lot more eyes trained on me to spot the slightest, smallest of lapses.

The subsequent training we'd undergo would be much harsher, since it would be directly aimed at preparing us for the big tournament, where everyone would be at the peak of their prime form.

Coach also said that he'd schedule more friendly matches to keep us fresh and adapt our newfound skills into practice for a more practical purpose, instead of simply repeating drills and exercises to no end.

As I stared idly at the blurry, semi-lit scenery zipping by through the bus's window, a notification from my phone caught my attention.

I thought it'd be Mia—that girl had a way of sneaking up on you when you weren't paying attention. I looked down, frowning slightly.

It wasn't her, and I hated that I was actually a bit disappointed to find out it wasn't. I looked at the sender, and arched an eyebrow in surprise.

"... Su Ah."

Su Ah: Hey, Jae-il.

Su Ah: Saw the match. Congratulations. You played exceptionally well.

"Why thank you." I typed, smiling.

But the reply came with unusual swiftness, almost like I didn't even have a hand in deciding its time of arrival.

Su Ah: Just stating the obvious.

An innocent, smiley face.

Then the reply switched direction like a sly fox.

Su Ah:  Don't get a big head, though.

Su Ah: Idiot.

Su Ah: Idiooooooooooooot.

She added a devil emoticon, one with a shit-eating grin.

My lips curled in amusement, and I put down the phone and chuckled quietly, leaning my head back against the cool surface.

xXx

Su Ah's POV:

You see, all it takes is the smallest, briefest glimpse into absolute darkness. A tiny little peek, a minuscule look of curiosity. An inquisitive, ever-wandering gaze. And that would be the moment when your curiosity gets the better of you. A tiny flicker of something you know you shouldn't chase, and it makes everything else fade. Ordinary life feels irrelevant, frivolous, secondary. The mind folds in on itself, drawn irresistibly toward the source of that flicker, unable to turn away.

Su Ah wasn't even aware of the change as it occurred, or more accurately, wasn't quite able to define it for herself. Her brows wrinkled as her thoughts churned in silence.

Before she knew it, before she could catch ahold of those errant, floating, uncontained thoughts, the floodgates burst open and carried her away to a place far, far away, leaving her restless body as mere luggage. Lately, she had been out of it, quite like her older sister. More often than not had she caught Mia simply... not be there, mentally.

Staring out the window. Holding her chin. Her gaze seemingly absent of all vitality. Lost in a place she couldn't escape from.

Su Ah would notice the murky haze lurking behind her sister's eyes—an eerie, greyish black veil, darker than the dullest night. When had Mia changed so much?

She often posed the same question to herself as well.

Because, when the characters of her story had firmly cemented their relationship, a mere kiss became a boring occurrence, easily predictable and, thus, far more uninteresting and lacking appeal and importance.

As such, Su Ah obviously knew what she should do to spice up her content. She never thought she'd be so invested in that kind of explicit development, but she was a healthy young woman, and as much as she detested having her mind constantly being besieged by erotic scenarios that were bound to be all too vivid due to a lack of a suitable partner for practice purposes.

It was simply something she'd have to live with.

However, fantasies were something that occurred, not something that one willed to occur—hence, the dilemma.

So, when she decided to write her first ever R-rated episode, all she had to go by was the kiss with... well—

"Come on, not again."

Not another writer's block.

"I can't fucking believe it."

The fingers hovered, the cursor flashing steadily, daring the owner of said fingers to add more to the bland and unoriginal words she already typed out.

She didn't know how to realistically convey an R-rated story while still managing to keep an ounce of believability without suddenly getting slapped for her obscene behavior by some moralists out there.

A kiss? She could easily write a hundred different scenarios involving the methodical practice of locking lips. But what would have come right after that would leave her mind reeling from embarrassment.

Su Ah had nothing to go by, other than...

She stared at her own hand. Pale. Slender. Tiny. Not quite like Jae-il's long, strong—

No. No. No. NO!

Su Ah pushed herself off her chair, grabbed a cushion, and furiously began rubbing it against the pinkness creeping along her face, flaring like a wildfire as she rolled on the bed, as if to extinguish imaginary flames.

It did absolutely nothing, other than spreading said warmth to the rest of her body and making her cheeks, for some reason, burn more aggressively than her active imagination.

And yet, while she could usually shake such silly, senseless and pitiful ideas from the confines of her head, there were times when they managed to dig their claws in, refusing to let go. She closed her eyes.

"... Ugh, why am I doing this...?"

It was dark, only the computer's monitor illuminated the room as Su Ah laid sprawled all over her soft mattress. With her eyes closed, she began imagining the story scenario play out.

A passionate kiss. She imagined how their bodies would press against each other, with no room left for second-guesses. His arm would move underneath her and wrap itself around her waist, holding her firmly. Then Jae-il—No, wait, not him. The imaginary, handsome male lead would pull the female lead's head back by her hair, their foreheads touch, then—

Wait, a hairpull? Hmm. Well, there was nothing wrong with that, right? What sane girl didn't enjoy it a little rough from time to time, no matter how much their dignity forbade them to admit so.

Yes, a hairpull.

Push her down on the bed.

A chaste, timid first time was acceptable, as was her being unable to stop her hands from trembling or feeling bashful at the mere prospect of a touch.

But roughness would work too, perhaps? Her arms might fly back, away, flailing uselessly, exposing her defenseless body to his prying eyes. He could completely wrist-lock both her hands above her head, and ravage her virgin body mercilessly.

Ah. Su Ah rolled her shoulders, almost gasping when a faint, unfamiliar warmth and heat blossomed in the depths of her lower belly. She swallowed.

All alone in the quiet night, surrounded only by her soft mattress and silken pillows.

Her hand shook, slithering down beneath the pillow she was holding onto with crushing force. Then under her shorts. Then—

A pleasant shudder coursed through her frame.

Su Ah kept her eyes shut, her breaths growing rapid and erratic, and felt that pleasant warmth coil tightly like a spring about to burst.

Purple eyes, a ravenous, haunting glow emanating from within. That self-satisfied smirk that would twist his lips upwards whenever he thought himself particularly clever, or after scoring a goal. The scent of earth and cologne. The touch of those smooth, large, manly hands.

Something surged violently within the depths of her, flushing and making her acutely sensitive to the rising heat of her body, and the electrifying current pulsating through her. Her body shuddered again as she could finally no longer resist her carnal urges, and her hands touched upon her aching peak.

Like the first bite of candy, once her mind caved, it was difficult to keep the addiction at bay.

"Haah..." She bit her lower lip.

Her knees rose, toes curling tightly. The throbbing pleasure grew, bringing the pressure with it. It rose like steam escaping into the air. She pressed down, hard. Her imagination filled her mind with vivid details and vivid faces.

Until, finally, after what had seemed like an eternity in the silent darkness of the room, and the warm throbbing that refused to dissipate, it released.

Like a jolt of lightning striking the ground.

In the ensuing quiet, her breaths were ragged. Chest rising and falling.

Su Ah pulled her fingers back, slick and trembling. She held them aloft, as if staring at the light shining off the wetness that clung to her digits, in a sense of disbelief.

"Shit…"