Chapter Text
Time ticked and sweat dripped as Jungkook reached for the goal under the bright spotlights. Blurred faces filled the stands, rooting for him to make it to the other side. It was an open way and victory was at his hands as the crowd vibrated in a frequency of cheers “Jungkook! Jungkook! Jungkook!’
“Jungkook.”
Someone pushed him. Jungkook jolted awake, heart kicking instead of his legs. The cheering crowds were replaced by a special sort of referee whistle, his mother’s voice.
“Didn’t you hear me call?” Mom inquired a bit impatiently, walking around his bedroom in fast clicks of her low heels, “You’re gonna be late for school, honey.”
Jungkook replied with a groan, his dream being replaced by a nightmare. His body still was facing some effects of the real game he had played on Friday. After a win, he should at least be granted the right to miss a couple of classes, if only his school had one fair line in their statute.
“Do I really need to go?” He whined to mom like a kid, rubbing his eyes that insisted on staying closed.
“Yes, you do.” She threw his uniform on top of him and left the room, but her voice stayed behind. “Get up!”
It was useless to be stubborn, mom was at least two shots of caffeine in, she would never let him stay in bed peacefully. And between her lectures and the school lectures, Jungkook would still stick with the school, where at least he could sleep.
He got up and stretched his sore body, the flashes of the past match working to pump him up. The satisfaction of winning was still a powerful serotonin booster and he knew everyone would be talking about it in school which made the day a little more tolerable.
A mass of brown fur and muscles was lying by his door when Jungkook walked out of the bedroom, almost making him trip.
“Aish, Bam,” Jungkook sighed, not really having it in him to reprimand his dog in any harsher way, "you can’t stay in the way.” The dog raised his big head and Jungkook wasn’t sure if dogs were able to smile, but Bam surely did. “Were you waiting for me?” He asked, overly sweet, scratching his ear. The dog stood on his rear legs, leaning on Jungkook to lick his face as if he was still just a small pup Jungkook could carry in his arms. He never imagined his baby would get so big. Bam himself didn't seem to realize his weight.
Jungkook gently pushed him away to be able to walk to the kitchen. The radio with the “best of the 90’s” broke the silence and saved them from having to talk. Dad was still washing the dishes, the apron too tight around his torso. Mom spotted Jungkook first when he came inside, detecting a sloppy trait that needed correction. Her hands held his shoulders to halt him so she could fix the red tie of his uniform that made Jungkook feel like a 45 year old with an office job he hated.
Bam came on his trail, putting his snout over the table and being quickly prevented by Jungkook’s father from joining (stealing) their breakfast.
“Bam, no! No!” dad chided, pushing him away.
“How many times do I have to tell you to not let Bam inside during meal time?” Mom's complaint was directed to dad, but it was like calling for customer’s assistance, nothing would come of it.
“He must have sneaked in when I went to water the plants,” dad retorted.
“Sneaked in? He’s a doberman, Sungjin, he’s almost bigger than you.”
“It gets hard to take care of everything when I’m already doing all the morning chores, Sukyeong,” he justified, bubbles flying when he shook the sponge, speaking with his hands.
Jungkook served himself the food that had gone cold. No microwaves at his house though, old fear his mom had sadly passed onto him.
“Well, then get a job and I’ll let you quit the morning chores,” mom replied, placing a bottle of milk in front of Jungkook on the table.
“I have a job,” he retorted, not noticing it when Jungkook stole a clean cup from his right. Mom snorted, shaking her head.
“A food truck is not a job.”
“Of course it is a job, if you weren’t so conservative and arrogant, you-,” he silenced the argument when Jungkook dragged the chair over the floor with a loud creak. Both adults looked down, finally realizing they had let poison slip through the cracks of their relationship. Dad forced a smile at him. “Hey champ, did you sleep well?”
“He’s late,” mother muttered, closing her rosé gold watch around her wrist, a most faithful companion she had received as a gift from her father upon the start of high school. Jungkook didn’t think he was a destructive type of person, but he had thought about stepping on that watch a few times.
“No, I’m pretty sure, there’s still half an hour…” Dad checked the clock over the wall, sighing in defeat, “Oh shit.”
“Yeah. I have to go, or else I’ll be the late one.” She gripped Jungkook’s head to place a kiss on top of it. “Have a nice day in school, honey.”
Kook hummed in return, mouth stuffed with rice.
She left the kitchen and his dad went after, either to argue more or maybe for a kiss Jungkook doubted she would give him. Whatever the outcome, the man quickly returned to his son with an excited smile, last night’s win still on his mind.
“How’s your condition today?” He asked, ruffling Jungkook’s hair that mom had just brushed. “You did so well at the game, Kook-ah, I still get jitters just thinking about that last goal.”
Jungkook grinned at him, finishing his juice. A picture of Son Heungmin giving a thumbs up was on the packaging, their sole reason for buying that brand.
“I’m okay, dad, just tired.”
“Eat more, you need it.”
The man didn’t wait for consent to put egg rolls on Jungkook’s clean plate.
“I gotta run,” Jungkook said apologetic, pushing the plate away, “I can’t be late again or you know mom won’t let me hear the end of it”
“Relax.” Dad put the food in front of his face again. “I’ll drive you today.”
“You don’t have to-”
“But I want to,” he insisted, giving the boy more juice too, “you won another game yesterday, let me spoil you the way I can.”
"The team won," Jungkook corrected.
“The team you lead, with goals you created the opportunity for, let a father praise his son,” he asked, beaming at the boy as if he was seeing baby Jesus, “honestly, I asked your mom to let you have some deserved rest today, but she didn’t agree.”
“I do still need to graduate,” Jungkook reminded them both to keep their feet on the ground. It might not be as easy as his dad made it seem when he had accumulated a slew of missed classes and poor grades that were attached like iron balls to his feet.
Dad scoffed at his concern. He always did, not a single parent-teacher meeting he had gone to in that highschool. Jungkook knew he had his reasons that went beyond his blind belief he was harboring the Korean Messi in his house.
“You don’t need to be good at school to score, no one will be asking you the formula of Bhaskara when they hire you at Barcelona. Academics is just not where your talent is, Kook, and the educational system doesn't know how to extract gold from different students. Leave the grades for the kids who can’t do what you do,” he advised, eating some egg rolls too, “I know your mother tries to be Mrs. Perfect, but you can’t listen to her.”
“You know why she’s this way,” Jungkook muttered, “grandpa is paying for this stuck up school, of course mom doesn’t want him to feel like his money is being spent on a failure.”
“But you’re not a failure, Jungkook,” he said in a stronger voice than Jungkook was used to hearing, defending both of them in one sentence, after all, grandpa's favorite offense to Jungkook was saying he took after his father. “Just stick to what you do best, and you’ll be fine.”
Kook nodded, shrinking on the chair to finish his breakfast. Dad lowered his head, supporting his face on his hand as he watched him eat in silence, a position reminiscent of Jungkook’s childhood. His adoration was almost too much to handle. Especially because Jungkook knew he deserved none of it.
“I think I should go, dad." He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Not be late you know.”
“Right,” he snapped out of his thoughts, getting up, “I’ll grab my keys. Put Bam outside, will you, please?”
Jungkook did as told, using the rest of the fish to attract his dog back to the terrace where he was supposed to stay when no one was home to tame his 40 kilogram playful self.
“I’ll take you for a walk later, okay?” Jungkook promised to the dog when he hooked the chain to his collar. Bam tilted his head pleading. “Don’t look at me like that. You know I can’t you to school.”
Jungkook rubbed his neck to soothe that overgrown child, until he was called by his father with a honk.
The old car was on its last leg, a bad deal his father had made, but would swear up and down had been worth it in order to get money for Jungkook’s physical therapy when he needed it. Six blocks away from the school's entrance, Jungkook gripped the door handle.
“You can drop me off here,” Kook determined.
“But it’s still far-”
“It’s fine, just drop me off here.” Jungkook lowered his head, not daring to verbalize it. But it was easy to see the reason as fancy cars slid by their stumbling junk. Jungkook’s father knew it too. He couldn’t forget the day he'd been called by the principal when his son punched the kids that made fun of him for smelling like tteokbokki. That persecution was finally over when Jungkook changed schools, the last thing he needed was to be the teokkbokki kid again.
Dad nodded in agreement though his lips could not sustain the smile anymore.
“Okay. Have a nice day, Koo.”
He pinched Jungkook’s nape lightly.
“You too, dad. Thanks for the ride.”
Jungkook jumped off the car, running the last blocks towards the large structure of Jeongsang High School. Few people were coming in through the gate, Jungkook was one of the last late comers. There was still a chance he might arrive at the class before the teacher though, as long as he picked up the pace. Most of the teaching body had been at the school since before the Korean war, he knew from experience he could beat their speed and avoid a sermon.
3rd year class A was full when he arrived as the missing piece of the puzzle. No teachers were around, as denounced by the loudness of the students chatting over each other. Someone did catch Jungkook’s late arrival though.
In the first desk, near the door he had just pushed open, a pair of long eyes peeped from behind a book and glasses, thick brows furrowed to question him. Jungkook knew exactly who it was. He wiggled his brows, defying the boy to say something when there was no one there to reinforce the rules he followed strictly. Kim had no guts. He only shook his head, silently berating the jock for his infringement of the school code.
A paper ball was thrown by someone at the back of the class, hitting the nerd's head. Taehyung pouted, looking back to see who among Jungkook’s friends was behind it, but only found faces laughing, no trace of guilt.
“Don’t tell me someone as hard headed as you gets bothered by a paper ball, Kim,” Jungkook faked shock, widening his eyes as he approached.
“I'd rather be a hard head than an empty head like you, Jeon,” Taehyung returned, always using the lamest 5th grader comebacks.
The door opened again and Ms. Park came inside, eager to begin the Korean literature class, which could only be said about her. And well, maybe Kim.
“Good morning everyone,” she chirped, walking in small but quick steps to take the chalk, “take your seats.”
Jungkook purposely bumped on Kim’s desk on his way, causing the ridiculous set of colorful pens to roll down. An empty seat had been saved for him at the back, next to Jaechan and Hoseok, the only way to get through those classes.
“You lucked out,” Hoseok whispered when Jungkook took his spot. Jungkook shrugged with too much smug for such a small win.
“I’m fast.”
However the classes were slow. Ms. Park's speech dragged, the pointers of the clock going in a sluggish rhythm and the students had to pin their lids open. When Kim’s cotton voice began to read the lines of the book they were supposed to be studying that semester, it was too much to handle. Jungkook’s head fell forward and he slept to the point of drooling.
Physics class was a bit better, since at least he could occupy himself in attempts of calculating. It was also a bit worse in the sense he was forced to realize once more that he didn’t know shit and would be royally screwed on the next test. Eventually Jungkook gave up on that period too and killed the minutes by doodling on the pages of problems he couldn’t solve.
Break time was the only chance to breathe. His friends always sat at the same table on the patio, beneath the shade of a cherry tree that was losing its blossoms sooner than Jungkook would have liked it too. He caught those pink buttons that colored the stone table into his hands, preservong the pieces of beauty for a little longer. Jaechan instead pushed them away to seat on top of the table.
“I can’t believe the coach is gonna have us training extra hours,” Jae complained, taking the lid of his energy drink. Jungkook was in awe it still had any effect when he consumed so much of it daily.
“We need more practice,” he said, frowning at his attitude, “the regionals are upon us, Jae. I won’t lose to those Mirae pricks again.”
“Jungkook’s right,” Hoseok agreed, eating a protein bar that they had learned to churn down under the coach’s duress, “we have a great chance to get far on the nationals this year. And if you’re tired, Jae, then stop getting late to practice so the coach will spare you the extra laps around the field.”
“You would understand why I’m late if you actually got someone to suck your dick,” he replied, rolling his eyes before setting his sights on Kook, “right, Jungkook?”
“Yeah, right,” Jungkook mumbled in return, even though he had no idea why Jae seemed to think he was getting laid a ton. But maybe the reason was behind him.
“Jungkook sunbaenim,” a thin voice interrupted their conversation, just as Hoseok drew in the air to reply to the provocation.
The source was a baby-faced boy whose hands trembled, carrying a cup of coffee. His eyes went wide when they met Jungkook’s, like a deer caught in the headlights. It would have been cute, if the other players weren’t all laughing at his obvious attempt. Kook was pretty sure he had seen him around some other time, but genuinely had no idea of when.
“What?”
“I brought you coffee,” the boy said, moving his hands forward, “to congratulate you for your win yesterday.”
Oh! That was where he saw him. Jungkook remembered the squealing boy at the front row with a huge "JUNGKOOK IS THE BEST" sign that all the guys in the team had poked fun at. That was a trainwreck happening right in front of his eyes. His admirer handed him the cup, the liquid threatening to spill when he shivered over the contact.
“I-It’s caramel macchiato! The way you like. I asked them to make the foam pretty for you."
Jungkook thinned his lips, looking at the heart shape over the liquid. The surrounding eyes had grown curious to watch the disaster unfold.
“Lame,” Jae said to Hoseok, not making any effort to not be heard.
“You know, since this is your senior year, I was thinking maybe I should-”
“Is he trying to ask Jungkook out?” Jae's ex-girlfriend Yunha butted in, coming closer along with two followers whose names Jungkook never quite remembered, but he did remember them trying to do the same to him before.
The boy choked, raising his eyes up to Jungkook for a moment before they lowered again. It was a pitiful sight. Which only excited the vultures around.
"Oh he likes our Jungkookie?" Someone chuckled, as if they were that close to him.
“I think he pissed himself,” another person teased, making the boy even check his pants in terror, which only caused laughter to erupt. Jungkook chewed his cheek. He wanted the other to run off already, wasn't it clear enough that was not where he belonged? Why should Kook have to be the bad guy?
“Come on, JK," a yell came, claps and whistles sounding.
"Are you going out with him or what?”
“Yeah, end his misery."
All eyes were on him, telling him to go ahead, put the boy in his place. Jungkook looked at the coffee. He could hear their thoughts in his head. Drop the coffee in the trash. Do worse, spill it on him. His free hand locked inside his pocket, nails scratching the paper skin. The anticipation had the air electric, demanding him to answer. His jaw locked under the pressure.
“Ah, I see, what this is…" He smacked his tongue, ignoring the sight of fear that flashed before his eyes, "you should know better. Why would I go out with you? Don't you know I'm busy with much more important things?"
"I-"
"But hey, thanks for the free coffee.”
The tension eased. Some snorts were heard on the court. Some disappointed rumble echoed too in face of the lacking show. Still, tears dwelled on the boy's eyes. Jungkook walked away not to see it. Why should he be responsible for other people's heartaches? That boy chose to make a fool out of himself, Jungkook was not to blame. God knows he had done his effort to preserve his reputation, others should be responsible for themselves and do the same.
He stared at the heart that began to dissolve in the warm liquid as he walked. Ah fuck, it must have even costed extra to make that silly detail. Why would he spend his money for him? Jungkook didn't date, people already knew that. He thought he had rejected enough confessions over the years to have made it clear where his priorities were. Anyone could have told his little groupie that much, a number of boys and girls had had their try asking him out. If he really admired Jungkook's football skills, then he wouldn't even consider asking him to divide his time between the sport and a relationship.
Distraction did not let him see the person invading his lane before they collided. The cup of hot macchiato hit the ground with a splash, spilling over both of their bodies.
“Shit,” Jungkook grumbled, crouching down to get the cup back. A few pieces of stained paper were stuck to the floor, ruined. Drawings that he barely had time to take a good look at, before their owner was on his knees, picking them up quickly to hide them back between his books.
“Fudge,” he said in the voice that always put Jungkook to sleep in class, “sorry.”
“Fudge?” Jungkook mocked the self censorship. “What are you, Kim? 7?”
Kim’s glasses had slipped to the tip of his nose and behind them laid bullets in the glare he directed at the jock. None of the usual box shaped grin to be seen. Jungkook had never been at the receiving end of any of those grins. Might as well be the only person in school since Taehyung made it his mission to be an obnoxious ass kisser to everyone else.
“At least I know how to apologize, Jeon. How old must you be if you're too self centered to even do that much?”
"I'll apologize to you the day deers hunt lions," Jungkook replied sour, straightening up again. He used to be taller than Kim, but the other had caught up almost entirely last winter. Maybe a centimetre or two still separated them. At least Jungkook would tell himself so, it was enough that Kim had the deeper voice. “Besides, you bumped into me. You’re lucky I’m merciful."
Taehyung rolled his eyes to the back of his head.
“We bumped into each other, you nitwit,” he retorted and Jungkook was confused whether that was supposed to be an insult, “you were not attentive to your surroundings, makes me wonder how you can be good at sports."
“So you admit I’m good?” Jungkook had a sly smile when he leaned forward. Taehyung’s pout at the realization he had just complimented the jock had him chuckle, winning the round.
“Watch your way, Kim,” Jaechan said, coming up behind Jungkook, “you’re easy to miss.”
“You should probably go clean your grandpa's shoes,” Yunha advised, coming along with him, “though I doubt anything can ruin them further.”
“Do your friends always speak for you, Jeon?” Taehyung raised a brow, unfazed by the comments. Jungkook scoffed.
“Why? Do you want me to speak to you instead, Kim?” Jungkook provoked, amused to see him fume when all his bullets ricocheted.
“You might, but I doubt you have anything to say that would remotely interest me.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes in response.
"I don’t give a damn about your interest."
He walked away to let Taehyung deal with the coffee mess, feeling blazes beneath his skin. Even after paying for his crime, which should have taught him a lesson, Kim still carried that stupid defiance on his posture. Jungkook didn’t knew if he should admire or hate that. Most of the time he was annoyed.
“I can’t stand him," he mused thinking of Taehyung’s stink face.
“He is a pain,” Jae agreed promptly, walking by his side, “if he wasn’t useful for people’s grades he would be getting his ass beaten all the time.”
And Jungkook was partly responsible for it. Only partly though, and a small part at that, most of it was a direct consequence of Taehyung’s own stupid actions. Jungkook’s mouth still tasted bitter whenever he remembered that soccer game in their first year, the whole Jeongsang stand in mortal silence as they witnessed the regional trophy being pried from their hands and their breakout player injured; all, except for Taehyung, whose cheers erupted lonely on their side, harmonizing with Mirae’s kids screams when that gremlin Park Jimin scored the decisive goal.
That was the day he learned Kim’s name, though he had seen him around plenty of times before. And he had been finding ways to be compensated by that mockery ever since. And sure maybe Jungkook’s childish prank to fill his locker with trash was a bit much and had unlocked a sense of retaliation shared by most of that school of bandwagoners that he had not planned, but if Kim hadn’t been dumb enough to afront the football team then none of it would have happened, so really it was his own doing.
It had only been really bad through the first year. Kim’s salvation was his smartness and his willingness to be used by anybody who needed help with homework or tests. Jungkook wondered if he was putting up with that servitude in hopes people would want to befriend him. If that was the case he was playing a losing game.
To make the morning worse, it was not enough Kim had left his clothes stained, Jungkook also had to see his face during history class in the most exciting event a teacher’s pet’s life could have: the day tests were returned graded. Of course he got another perfect 10, all smiles and little shakes of his fists. Jungkook had more to worry about though. His test came back with the number 2/10 written in red over the paper.
"Shit," he said for the second time that day, knowing he would hear a share of sermons over it. History was his worst subject, mostly because Mr. Kim loved dumping information on them and giving test questions that made Jungkook’s brain hurt trying to sew the historical facts together.
"Don't panic yet. I want to talk to you after class, Jungkook," he informed in his gentle voice and even if his subject was aversive, Jungkook couldn't help feeling a little more partial to him in comparison to his other teachers. Maybe it was the fact they were close in age (or that Kim Namjoon was the hottest man to ever teach a history class). Jungkook gulped, nodding, even though he didn’t want to talk. He already had been having those talks since his first year.
Nevertheless, as the other students left class eager to go home or to their clubs, Jungkook made the opposite way towards the teacher who wiped the board clean, knowing he didn't have a choice.
"What is it you want to talk to me about, teacher?"
Namjoon left the eraser aside to focus on Jungkook’s droopy face, sitting just a little of his weight over his desk.
"Jungkook, I’ll go straight to the point.” And that candor was something he also liked about that teacher, so Jungkook nodded for him to go on. “I’m sure you know by now that your grades have been a matter of concern, in particular because, as you already know, all students must have a certain performance on scholar work to be allowed the chance to participate in extracurricular activities, like the football team."
Jungkook sighed, the tie feeling like a rope around his neck.
"Yeah, I know."
But the team was not just an extracurricular, it was his one ticket to the next phase of his life. He had accepted his grandparents' offer to study at Jeongsang solely for the sports structure they offered, a structure his father had told him many times could be crucial in his development, and the name their traditional football team carried, that would surely bring scouters. They both were naive to not realize Jungkook would have to meet that difficult grade requirement in a demanding school.
"You've been dangerously threading the line for a while now, but this is senior year, you have to bump up your studies. Your athletic ability is outstanding and can give you a career path, but your education matters as well. I want to help you with that."
"Teacher, with all due respect, I'm just not meant for this.” Jungkook returned his sincerity. “I'm gonna be a soccer player and that's it. Just give me the chance to take another test or something please."
Namjoon stared at him from behind his round glasses for a couple of seconds. His long finger rubbed his chin as he studied what to do with that difficult case.
"Did you study for this test, Jungkook?"
Jungkook’s mouth dried up under his stare.
"I tried, okay?” He confessed, looking down at his sneakers. “But practice has been burning all my energy and reading about a bunch of dead people no one cares about doesn't do enough to pick my interest.”
He held his breath, realizing too much had escaped, pushed out by frustration. Kook stepped back, away from the debris of the sole tolerable relationship with a teacher he had. But Namjoon’s nostrils didn’t flare the way he expected them to. Instead his eyes lowered, as if he reflected on the honest statement.
"A bunch of dead people?” Namjoon asked, hanging on the words. “Is that all you took from my classes?"
Jungkook dragged in a breath, realizing he had probably made everything worse.
"Look, Mr. Kim, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, okay? I'm sure you're a great teacher, and you’re always super kind to me — I appreciate it —, but this is just not for me."
"I see…” He nodded slowly, before peering at him again. “Well, it’s a shame you think that way, Jungkook. I think you have much more potential than you yourself might believe. You can go now."
Jungkook took the chance, turning away and dashing out of the classroom, too bothered by the almost pitiful look the teacher had directed him. Namjoon simply could not understand his dedication to the sport, or else he wouldn’t think Jungkook was choosing too little for himself. All those academic types always looked down on the jocks anyway, it was no surprise. Just because Namjoon was young and handsome and cool didn’t mean he wasn’t a teacher at the end of the day.
When Jungkook got to the locker room, all his teammates had already changed into their uniforms, a remix of their laughter and cracking puberty voices filled the walls. Hands reached out to shake his as he walked by and Jungkook had once more the confirmation of where he belonged.
“What did teacher Kim want to talk to you about?” Jae asked, pulling his socks up his shins.
“He wanted to give me a lecture, so his consciousness can rest at ease that he has done his best to shape another young life," Jungkook answered sardonically as he pulled his half unbuttoned shirt over his head. He heard some whistles and mockery shrieks, teasing him as he was the only one still changing. "Teachers are all the same."
“Stop raising the standards, Jeon,” someone yelled.
“How many hours have you been spending at the gym?”
Jungkook grinned at the flattering comments, his nose scrunching up as he dressed in the blue and red mantle of the Jeongsang team, his second skin.
“It’s in his genes,” the goalkeeper Minho commented and Jungkook couldn’t help feeling belittled by the comment. He didn’t know if that was the “inferiority complex” he had seen someone talk about on Hello, Counselor or the true intention of Minho’s words. “He’s Seokjin’s cousin after all.”
“Come on, boys, I want to see you all on the field for warm up,” the coach rushed them with his claps, “no whining.”
The group of boys shut the lockers, going outside in a disorganized mob. Jungkook quickly put on his socks and shoes and followed them out. The air was fresh even though the sun was shining and Jungkook was grateful summer had not arrived yet.
Sweat soon soaked up their shirts anyway, making the fabric stick to their bodies. It was what the people in the bleachers came to see, their squeals and screeches disturbed the concentration of the players. Jaechan waved at the audience, always ending up taking his shirt off near the end to put on a little show. Some of the rookies were still getting used to the attention, all blushes and grins.
“They are looking over here,” Jae celebrated, stopping next to Jungkook when they waited for the throw-in.
“Can you focus?” Jungkook asked him impatiently.
“Oh come on, why be a jock if we can’t enjoy some of that? Live a little.”
“This is distracting,” he complained, glaring at the excited teenagers he was supposed to lead, “why do these people even come to disturb our practice? There’s plenty of games for them to attend. Hey! Cha!” Jungkook yelled, calling the attention of the boy who was too busy waving at someone to see the ball that passed by him, “Pay attention! You are a defender, for God’s sake! Defend!”
“Sorry, cap!” The boy apologized and shrunk up, smacking his own forehead for the mistake.
“You’re not the coach, JK,” Jae reminded, holding his shoulder, “and this is just practice. Chill.”
Jungkook ignored his friend, getting in the way of the opposing mid-fielder’s beeline towards their goal to break their attack apart. Stealing the ball was Jungkooks favorite part, the look of confusion and frustration when he dribbled that prized possession away never got old. But there was no time to finish his attack when the whistle sounded.
“We’re done for today,” the coach yelled.
“Good job, everyone!” Jungkook clapped at his team, gently tapping the arms of the boy’s that passed by him. “Great defense you made, Minwoo.”
“Thanks, cap,” the second year boy smiled proudly at the compliment.
“Your speed is improving, Eunggi, I like to see that,” Jungkook praised, pointing his index finger at the breathless boy that passed by.
“Jungkook,” the coach called him before he could leave the field, waving his hand, “we need to talk.”
“What is it?” He asked, walking back towards the man. “Something wrong with the team? Is it Inseong’s knee?”
“No, the team is fine,” the older man tranquilized him, adjusting his black hair beneath his cap, “Inseong is recovering well. We have to talk about you.”
“Me?” Jungkook raised his brows. He had nothing to be called out on, his attendance at practice was perfect, his body was fine, no health issues in the past months, he had been consistently showing a great performance even for his own high standards.
“Principal Moon came to speak to me.”
“Oh,” Jungkook replied, letting his head weigh back.
“You already know what this is about, don’t you?”
“Yup,” Jungkook confirmed to the darkening sky, “it’s about my grades not meeting the minimum required to play.”
“Exactly. You know how this works, Jeon.”
“I’m going to improve,” he assured, though he didn’t know how.
“I hope you do. You are talented, Jungkook, and you can be a brilliant player, which is why I have been defending you as much as I can, but rules are rules. Your teachers are fed up and they are pressuring Moon to take an instance. I’ll be forced to kick you out of the team if you don’t bump your grades up and I don’t want to do that.”
“Kick me out?” Jungkook repeated, all the air knocked out of his lungs like he had just taken a hit to the chest. “What? Seriously?”
“My hands are tied. We can’t afford to lose you, Jungkook, but I might not have a choice.”
“I can’t afford to lose the team either,” he retorted, not needing any more pressure.
“Then do what you need to fix this mess. Just nothing that would get you expelled. Or if you do, then make sure to not get caught.” He winked and tapped Jungkook’s arm. He might get away with cheating at a test or two, but all of them? Impossible. Besides there was homework, assignments... “You're dismissed."
Jungkook made his way towards the locker room, the ground cracking under his feet.
Last night, he had been celebrating a win and less than 24 hours later he was crushed by a heavy defeat