The Beautiful Game |Kim Minji|

Teaser

It's the sound of a whistle that jolts me back into reality. The world blurs around me as the ball skims across the grass, just out of my reach. The stadium is electric, fans roaring, but all I can focus on is the pounding in my chest. It's a sound louder than the crowd—a reminder of everything on the line.

Pressure. That's what it is. It never leaves, clinging to my skin like sweat. No matter how many games I play, it's always there, just waiting for me to slip.

And today, I'm slipping.

As the final whistle blows, the weight settles in my chest. We lost. I should be used to this by now, but it stings every time. In the distance, cameras are already zooming in on us, feeding on our disappointment. I keep my head down, trying to block out the flashes.

Just get off the field, I tell myself. I'm not here for the media.

But it's not the media that catches my attention.

"Y/N?"

I stop dead in my tracks. That voice—it's calm, not pushy, different from the usual swarm of reporters. I turn slowly, and there she is. Minji.

She's standing off to the side, her camera held loosely in one hand. There's something in her eyes, a quiet intensity that makes me want to look away. But I can't.

"I'm not doing interviews," I mutter, adjusting the strap of my bag. My body feels heavy, exhausted.

"I'm not asking for one," she replies, stepping closer. "I just... wanted to check in."

I raise an eyebrow, unsure how to respond. No one ever just checks in. Not with me.

Minji fidgets slightly with her camera, her expression softening. "I know it was a tough game. But I'm not here for the score. I want to know how you're holding up."

The sincerity in her voice catches me off guard. I've heard it all before—reporters fishing for a sob story or a headline-worthy quote. But Minji? She's different. She's not looking for a scoop. She's looking for... me.

For a moment, I consider brushing her off, like I do with everyone else. But something stops me. Maybe it's the way she's standing there, not with a microphone shoved in my face, but just waiting. Genuinely waiting.

"I'm fine," I say, but my voice cracks. I'm not fine, and she knows it.

She doesn't push. "You don't have to talk about it. Just... take care of yourself, alright?"

Minji gives me a small, encouraging smile before turning to leave, and for some reason, I feel like the weight on my shoulders lifts just a little.

"In football, there are moments that change everything. Sometimes, it's not the game that makes the biggest impact. It's the people we meet along the way."

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The Beautiful Game