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It is Sunday afternoon and Taeyong finds himself seated among the sea of people wearing matching royal blue shirts opposite a crowd of emerald green. The energy is elevated, the booming sound of drums equally matches the unified sound of colors. It’s crazy to see how jam-packed the arena is, housing two groups of supporters for a basketball game — the Green Hunters of the West and the Blue Assassins of the East.
Taeyong doesn’t even know a thing about the rules of the court except there’s a ball and you have to shoot it in the ring. He may have caught a few episodes of Kuroko no Basket while his otaku of a roommate is watching — not that it helped him understand the fundamentals at least — he’s pretty sure real-life basketball players are not supposed to have an ability to break ankles with just a blink of an eye.
“Ridiculous! That only happens in Japanese cartoons,” he comments when a guy with glasses and green hair (why does he even) shoots a full-court three pointer accurately.
“It’s anime! Apologize to every anime enthusiast you have offended!” His Japanese otaku of a roommate Yuta would yell back. “Also, Midorima is awesome!”
“He has green hair,” Taeyong grits.
Said roommate enters their dorm one afternoon with eyebags covering half of his face.
“I practically camped out of the ticketing office the whole night to get these Patron-seat tickets and I won’t forgive you if you don’t watch with me. I have Philosophy in thirty minutes, and I’m going to die if I cut class, so let me nap,” Yuta collapses on the bed before Taeyong can even say no.
But since Yuta knows Taeyong’s schedule more than his own, he cannot even argue -- not like he’ll win against him anyway.
Taeyong is already in his Junior year in university, yet he doesn’t really get this whole representation of school spirit, being not a sporty person himself. But the whole university – no – the whole Intercollegiate Basketball League of Korea says otherwise. Students, alumni and faculty take pride of their university teams, doing their best to support them every ball game, regular elimination rounds or championships. With a nationwide media exposure, the following is ultimately huge most especially for the Green and Blue ones – the two strongest contenders of the league.
“Pay attention,” Yuta elbows him on the side just as when he is about to space out wondering what to get for dinner. “See how good-looking our basketball players are.”
“I thought you’re here for the game, Yuta.”
“And the players,” the Japanese clarifies. “Some of them are better-looking than idols to be honest.”
Taeyong does as he is told. The players in green are scattered on the court doing their running drills while the players in blue have started practicing their shooting too.
He recognizes a guy from his Literature class called Ten, jersey number seven in blue and white. He knows about him being a varsity player – his other classmates won’t shut up about it – ‘Ten is so cool’ this and that. He has worked with him on a group report before, so they are pretty much on a hi-hello relationship. Not really close enough to be deemed as friendship, but they are at the very least, acquainted.
Taeyong watches as Ten drives the ball and finishes it with a smooth lay-up, the rest of his team following his lead from behind.
Taeyong’s eyes land particularly on a player in blue seated alone on the bench just right across their section. From the looks of it, the player ended his warm-up earlier than the rest – Taeyong can see, because of the proximity, the glistening sweat on the other’s arms and chest.
Yuta is right, this one definitely looks better than idols.
“Who is that in jersey number four?” Taeyong asked. The player in blue has closed his eyes, head tilted up in the sky as if in silent prayer for the gods of the court to bless him.
“Jung Jaehyun of the Blue Assassins. 2016 IBLK Rookie of the Year, also the future of Korea’s basketball,” Yuta enthusiastically explains beside him. “That’s his routine, he usually finishes earlier than his team for warm ups. Apparently it’s because he gets very anxious when he becomes the center of attention so he needs time to shake the feeling off or something.”
Taeyong looks at Yuta in awe. “Why do you know so much?”
“Feature articles, interviews, documentaries.” The other shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
Taeyong watches as the player named Jaehyun slowly opens his eyes and makes his way to the court. For the first time, Taeyong is actually interested.
***
Ten, a guard, passes Jaehyun the ball who catches it firmly with both hands. A blond forward number three, ‘Ji’ written at the back of his green jersey, goes for a one-on-one defense with a smirk on his face. He stands a few inches taller than Jaehyun – sticking to him like a leech. The Hunter goes for a hooking motion with an attempt to steal the ball but the Assassin is quick to notice, driving the ball away from the defender.
Jaehyun calculates his options -- all his teammates are engaged in a pressure defense by the green side, and there is less than five seconds left in the first half. The Hunter against him is bigger – he tries to force his way inside the paint, but the other is hard to budge. He decides against it, trying not to catch a possible offensive foul call.
With two seconds left on the clock, he makes up his mind and fakes a drive, the bigger guy taking the bait. Jaehyun takes a step back for a fadeaway jump shot, his defender, realizing he has been fooled, jumps in too late. Jaehyun shoots and scores, tying the half-time score at 47-47.
The crowd in blue bursts into a united chant of “Go Blue Assassins! Fight! Fight! Fight!”
The team heads to the dug-out area pumped up with adrenaline.
“We got this!”
“Nice play,” Ten pats Jaehyun on the back. Jaehyun returns the gesture by playfully punching the other on the arm.
“Nice pass.” Jaehyun gulps a bottle of Gatorade, as he sits down staring at the big LED screen inside the waiting area. The sport analysts are reviewing the half-time statistics, giving their detailed commentaries of the game.
“Thanks, I already know I have a nice ass. But you know what, our courtside reporter’s ass is way better.” Ten smirks.
“You mean Seo Youngho?” The screen shifts to a view of guy holding a microphone, his hair neatly styled up, looking very sleek in a white button up shirt. ‘Seo Youngho,’ the label underneath the screen says. He is reporting about how the coaching staff of the Blue Assassins feel about the graduation of their former star player – the legendary ‘Galaxy Assassin’ who brought them four straight championships during his playing years.
“I don’t get your taste,” Jaehyun snorts. The room is starting to feel humid. He wipes the sweat on his forehead with a white towel.
“You’d have to taste me first to get it.” Ten jokes. It’s not a secret that the player has a peculiar attachment to men, not that Jaehyun is the rightful judge for that.
Instead, he throws the towel at his teammate’s face and walks away. “You’re not my style.”
**
Jung Jaehyun is more amazing than Taeyong thought -- he can barely keep his eyes off him the entire game. Even with Taeyong’s anime-based knowledge of basketball, he can tell how different Jaehyun is from the rest. He moves in the court with so much grace and accuracy, like he’s staging a performance for everybody else.
The four-way LED screen hanging on top of the arena is showing replays of the best moves of the first half – one of which is Jaehyun’s jump shot. What a perfect form. What a perfect being.
A nudge on his shoulder brings him back to his senses. “What?” Taeyong squeaks, flustered at being caught spacing out.
Yuta gives him a knowing look. “Stop drooling over Jung Jaehyun!”
“I am not droo—“
“Youngho here was saying something,” Yuta interrupts, recognizing the guy in an instant. He gestures toward the person standing on the alley. A tall guy is smiling at them, looking like a model in a toothpaste commercial with his gleaming pearly white teeth.
“Young—who?”
“Youngho,” the guy clears his throat. “My name is Seo Youngho. I work for SM Sports and Action. We would like to feature you as the Monster Facial Wash Face of the Game if you don’t mind?”
“Monster Face of the— what?” Yuta gasps beside him. Taeyong looks at his best friend and then back at the Youngho guy, confused. “I—“
“Of course he is willing!” Yuta butts in before Taeyong can complete a sentence. “Please give him a minute or two to freshen up?”
The Youngho guy combs his fringe backwards with his fingers. “Cool. We’ll air live after the commercial break. I’ll go talk to the director and be back in a moment.”
“I can’t believe this! Face of the Game! On your first IBLK game!” Yuta grabs Taeyong’s chin and tilts it toward him as soon as the staff is out of sight. “What is your face even?”
“Uhhh…A normal one?”
“Face of the Game doesn’t do normal ones.” Yuta crosses his arms across his chest. “I’m jealous. I have been watching live games since high school, this is our third year in university and never once I have even been spotted on live TV. What more getting featured?”
“Thanks? But is it really that of a big deal?”
“Getting your face shown on national TV as the Face of the Game? Of course it’s big! I heard some people even get scouted by agencies after being featured. Unbelievable right?”
“I see?”
“You see? Yes, indeed you’ll see.” Yuta remarks.
**
An obnoxious digital banner of ‘Monster Facial Wash Face of the Game’ with his name on it flashes on the screen and Taeyong tries his best to be as natural as possible in the camera. It’s a good thing Taeyong is used to the lens, being someone who is involved in the field of performance arts since he was young. He is currently a member of the university’s Dance Troupe.
As soon as the live airing of his 10-second moment is over, he receives over 20 messages on Facebook, Line, and KakaoTalk telling him that they saw him on TV. Taeil, a childhood friend studying in a nearby university who is coincidentally live-streaming the game, manages to get a blurry screen cap of the moment and tags him on Twitter. He replies to the tweet with a combination of ‘shocked’ and ‘blushing’ emoticons and closes his account immediately.
The game resumes after a few minutes. Jung Jaehyun is sent back to the court along with four others, looking immensely energized and fired up. The Blue Assassins take the lead in the early hours of the 3rd quarter, starting with a hook shot from their center player, a senior playing in his last year. Ten and Jaehyun step it up even further, killing it with their run and gun play, bringing the lead up to nine by the end of 3rd, 59-68.
“You are currently witnessing the almighty junior duo of the Blue Assassins,” Yuta comments. “They are indeed this generation’s Fast and Furious.”
But a classic game between the archrivals Blue Assassins and Green Hunters does not end with huge point gaps. What makes it classic is that every time the two teams face each other – they are always at each other’s throats. There is no time to breathe as the Hunters welcome the 4th quarter with three three-point shots in a row three minutes into the game – the hot hands coming from the player, who according to Yuta, is a junior named Ji Hansol. He’s the same ‘Ji’ guy who has been guarding Jaehyun one-on-one.
The shooting spree fuels the energy of the crowd of Green, the chants of “Go Hunters” in the arena is louder than ever.
“As expected from the Captain Hunter Ji Hansol,” Yuta groans when a timeout for the Blue bench is called. “His three-point shooting percentage is no joke. He’s the best in the league. With the best looks too. Damn hot! He can shoot me with those guns!”
Taeyong ignores the last bit. What an unloyal shit.
The Green Hunters take the lead with less than five minutes left in the game, but the Blue Assassins are quick to retaliate, not letting the moment last for so long as they take it back with a jumper from beyond the arc.
The screams from the blue crowd takes over the whole arena. The crowd in green are not easily drowned.
There’s something about the way his heartbeat matches the thumping sound of bass drums, the way the crowd reacts whenever an extremely difficult play is executed successfully, or how he feels goosebumps during buzzer beaters and slam dunks. Taeyong finally gets it – this is why people like basketball. He can’t place the right words to explain how he feels – but he just gets it.
***
They get back to the dorm and Taeyong’s SNS notifications are still flooded with reactions to his TV appearance as the Face of the Game. He likes some of the posts on his wall, some coming from his Dance Troupe friends, others from his blockmates. He replies with a kissy face to his mom’s message, telling him how proud she is of him. He also hides a rather embarrassing wallpost of his aunt, commenting about how he has already grown up so much he can bring home a wife to the family already. He takes a mental note to enable the filters on his wall next time.
A few more minutes of scrolling and Taeyong stumbles on a Facebook request from a user named Jung Yoonoh whose profile picture is a white Persian cat with blue eyes. He usually doesn’t accept friend request from strangers – he tries to keep at least his Facebook private with people he only interacts with in real life.
He clicks on the profile and sees that the only mutual friend they have is Ten – which is weird because aside from his Lit blockmates, they really have very different social circles. Curious, he checks the rest of the profile photos – there are only five others, and all of it is the same cat in different angles.
He checks the stranger’s wall, noticing that most of the content are likely in private. There are old posts in 2009 about quiz assessments varying from ‘How Will You Die’ or ‘Which Hogwarts House Are You.’ Jung Yoonoh will die ‘Assassinated by Justin Bieber’ which he captioned as ‘I will die happy.’ This guy also happens to be sorted in Ravenclaw, captioned with ‘True Blue.’ Taeyong snorts and goes back to the approval page – deciding whether to accept or reject.
Does he know him? Why did this Yoonoh guy add him? Why is their only common friend Ten? The only ‘Jung’ whom he can think of as related to Ten is not a ‘Yoonoh’ but…
“Yuta!” Taeyong calls out his roommate in a moment of epiphany. “Do you know a Jung Yoonoh?”
He hears the knob of the shower shut off, silencing the falling drops of water from the other side of the door. “Do I know who?” Yuta answers back, voice echoing in the confined space.
“Jung! Yoon! Oh!” He shouts, reiterating every syllable of the name.
“Jung Yoonoh?” There is a pause. “That’s Jung Jaehyun’s real name!”
Taeyong drops his phone and accidentally clicks on ‘reject.’
“Fuck.”
***
The bell rings, signaling the end of Literature class. Taeyong is starting to pack-up his things, ready to rush to Asian History located on the far end of the campus when he is greeted with a pat on his shoulder.
“Hey,” Ten smiles at him.
“Hi,” Taeyong greets back, carefully strapping the laptop inside his bag. “What’s up?”
“I heard you rejected Jaehyun’s friend request?”
“What?” Taeyong stops. He looks back at the other who is staring back amusingly at him with a tiny smirk on the side of his lips.
“Jung Yoonoh? Facebook?” Ten offers. “Not ringing a bell or just pretending it did not happen?”
“That’s not my intention,” Taeyong explains. A flush of red is threatening to appear on his cheeks. “It was really by accident.”
“So it’s not like you hate him or anything?” The basketball player asks.
“Why would you think that? We don’t even know each other – I mean, of course I know who he is, campus celebrity and all – but how does he know me?”
“I actually don’t,” an unfamiliar voice says. Taeyong turns his head towards the door – noticing a guy in a gray pullover hoodie leaning against the wall. “But I’d like to get to know you if you’d allow me?”
Jung Jaehyun – no, Jung Yoonoh – in his full-blown gloriousness is standing right in front of him and Lee Taeyong tries his best not to faint.
**
Everything that follows is a blur. Suddenly, Taeyong finds himself in a coffee shop outside campus waiting for his – he isn’t sure if this can be called as such – date, who also happened to be the most sought-after student in their university.
Deep breaths. Inhale. Exhale. He chants mentally. Jaehyun – he is blushing at the thought again – has insisted on buying him coffee. He is left seated on a corner table of the shop nervously fiddling anything he can find with his fingers. He decides to take his phone out of his pocket and incoherently sends his roommate a Line message.
To: Otaku-san
NAKAMOTO
I’M
JUST
klsjdaksajdka
From: Otaku-san
???
To: Otaku-san
I DIE
JUNG YOONOH
From: Otaku-san
whut r u talkin about
pls speak human
To: Otaku-san
JUNG JAEHYUN
HE TOOK ME OUT FOR COFFEE
WE’RE ON A FCKNG DATE RN
I’M DYINGGG
From: Otaku-san
WHAT
To: Otaku-san
SEND HELP
From: Otaku-san
WHAT HAPPENED
HOW
WHY
WTAF
To: Otaku-san
IDK
HE JUST MAGICALLY APPEARED
LOOKING SO DAMN FINE
ODG
HE’S SO HANDSOME
HE LOOKS BETTER UPCLOSE
I’M SO
DEAD
WITH FEELS
From: Otaku-san
OMG?????
WTAF
IH8U
TELL ME MORE
To: Otaku-san
I WOULD
BUT HE’S HERE
WISH ME LUCKK
BYE
From: Otaku-san
OK
USE PROTECTION
Taeyong groans and quickly pockets his phone. He must be blushing so bad right now, the heat has risen up his face. He’s still learning how to handle the ball why is Yuta already talking about shooting.
Jaehyun arrives with two cups of coffee on his hands, placing one right in front of the Taeyong. “I’m sorry, I forgot to ask what you wanted but I guessed you’re an Iced Americano kind of person?”
“I am, thanks.” Taeyong swears he almost teared up. This is the first time someone has ever guessed his coffee right. Even Yuta agrees his face doesn’t suit his choice of coffee. Taeyong can’t handle sweet drinks, he’s not going to lie. But if it’s for Jaehyun, he’ll gladly sacrifice and wake up all the hibernating sweet tastebuds in his body. He takes a sip of the drink and enjoys the rush of caffeine in his veins. He notices how the other ordered a Vanilla Frappe for himself. How cute.
“I’m sorry our first meeting turned out like this,” Jaehyun smiles apologetically as he pulls a chair and sits across Taeyong. He pushes his eyeglasses upwards with his forefinger – so cute. Taeyong wonders if the other is just wearing specs for the show, probably because he knows he looks good with them. He doubts the next big thing in Korean basketball has poor eyesight.
“No, I’m sorry I rejected your friend request,” Taeyong replies. He averts his eyes for a second – it is starting to get difficult maintaining eye contact. Jaehyun’s eyes, despite being behind his specs, are making him feel things and the effect on him is not any less. He then drowns back in Jaehyun’s almond brown ones. “I really didn’t mean to.”
“I- I’m sorry for being so lame. I originally wanted to introduce myself in a better manner but I couldn’t think of any,” Jaehyun stutters. Taeyong almost chokes on this unexpected exhibition of aegyo.
“Okay,” Taeyong breathes. “First we really ought to stop apologizing to each other.” He giggles. This campus dream guy is obviously just as nervous as he is. All the nerves eating him up earlier seems to be floating away slowly but surely.
“You’re right,” Jaehyun laughs. Taeyong fights the urge to poke the deep dimples on his cheeks.
“So…where do we start?”
Jaehyun leans forward with a hand on his chin, grinning. “How about you tell me how you are so beautiful?”
Taeyong smiles back. “I was going to ask you the same.”
He totally forgets about his next class.
**
Epilogue:
Jaehyun recognizes the guy on the LED screen as the same beautiful stranger he used to ogle every Tuesdays and Thursdays at half past five in the afternoon in their gymnasium during practice. The stranger is almost always in his usual black shirt, sweatpants and sneakers combination — typical dancer outfit — Jaehyun concludes on a day he actually catches the jewel-of-his-eyes in a late dance practice session with his troupe on the far end of the gym. Jaehyun watches him from a distance yet closely, allured to the stranger’s smooth movements. He’s living art, Jaehyun thinks, delighting himself with every detail of the dancer — from the way his lips part open to control his breathing, to how the hem of his shirt rises up during stunts. A masterpiece.
Jaehyun is caught off-guard when one day, the guy enters the shared shower room of the gymnasium and nonchalantly starts stripping off pieces of clothing. He stands there as if he has been hit by a stunning spell — his crush is undressing right beside him and he is conflicted whether to look and take in the moment as a blessing or to start saving himself. He goes in for the first option and takes a careful glimpse of the other — bare chest, already down to his boxer shorts revealing his white porcelain skin — and it’s a bad idea.
So with still-unrinsed conditioner in his hair, in his equally naked state, Jaehyun runs out of the shower cursing himself about wrong life choices and the problem he has to deal with. Meanwhile, the dancer remains oblivious of what just happened.
He finds out a few days later that the Dance Troupe along with other varsity teams sharing the gymnasium have been transferred to a different facility within the university, signalling the end of Jaehyun’s crush-sighting adventures.
He doesn’t even know his name — well, at least until today.
The guy on the screen is absolutely distracting. Like a guy who just walked out of a manga and came to life. Monster Facial Wash Face of the Game – more like Face of the Century, the face he wants to date, the face he can just stare at all day, the face that he wants to wake up next to everyday in the future – Lee Taeyong, according to the screen, has definitely captured Jaehyun’s attention
“Jaehyun, you’re weird today,” Ten comments.
“What?” He asks.
“You’ve been staring at the LED board to watch commercial breaks? And you never do that in games – especially not in crucial ones against the Hunters. You are like the most focused player I know. I couldn’t even talk to you like this.”
“Well, I finally found my person.”
“Your what?”
Jaehyun laughs, taking one last glance at the smiling person on the screen. Lee Taeyong. His person. “Let’s just go and win this game.”
And so they did.