First, there are some facts that need to be mentioned here.

• Kim Nam-Il and Kim Tae-Young both play for K-League side Chunnam Dragons.
• Choi Tae-Uk and Lee Young-Pyo both play for K-League side Anyang Cheetahs.
• Park Ji-Sung plays for Japanese League side Kyoto Purple Sanga.
• Yoo Sang-Chul played for Japanese League side Kashiwa Reysol, but his contract has expired and he is reportedly aiming for a move to Europe.
• The legal drinking age in South Korea is 21.
• Yoda kicks ass.

Ok, done with the facts, on with the story.

It seems like there's a curse attached to every little thing I say these days. Not counting my less-than-satisfactory attempt to resolve things with Ji-Sung.

Just two days ago I was training in our home base in Kwangnyang, and I made a comment about how hot it was. Sure enough, the ever-present media circus was quick to jump on it. Next thing I know, headlines are appearing all over the tabloids such as:

"Kim Nam-Il: I Can't Stand Kwangnyang's Heat!"

"Kim Nam-Il Unhappy with Training Ground Conditions"

"Foreign Move Likely: Kim Nam-Il Displeased with Conditions in Kwangnyang"

Luckily, both my teammates and my club managers are used to it by now, so we could all just laugh and shrug it off. No harm done there. But not long after those headlines appeared, a torrential rain suddenly swept through the entire Korean peninsula, resulting in floods and other disturbances.

As such, all the K-League matches scheduled for tonight were cancelled.

Right. Just when I think I might get the chance to play for the first time since the World Cup quarterfinals. Thanks a lot. Nature sure knows how to kick a man when he's down, doesn't it?

So, what did I decide to do? In true 'Kim Nam-Il' fashion, I packed my things into the trunk of my Rio, headed for downtown Seoul, and stopped at the first night club that attracts my attention. Torrential downpour notwithstanding, the place is packed full.

I think I've been here before - maybe it's one of the countless night clubs I visited during my well-publicized four day club hopping spree after the presentation ceremony at Gyeongbok. All night clubs in Seoul tend to look the same these days: Strobe lights, dance floors, hundreds of twenty-something bodies gyrating together to the beat of the music, dyed hair flashing alongside lavishly ornamented clothes and designer cuts. Living the good life, young and free. That's the tagline, isn't it?

I sit in a secluded corner booth all by myself, a bottle of Redrock Beer clutched in my hand though I haven't taken a sip from it for the past fifteen minutes or so. I sit and watch all these people, their happy sweat-stained faces and the glitter and make-up, step bang shimmy shake to the ear-pounding beat of the music, like puppets with strings mastered by the DJ, and I feel old all of a sudden.

The lights flash red, blue and green and make me dizzy, my mind and heart both determined to stay unaffected by all this energetic atmosphere, seeing these kids, most probably still in college, dance and have a good time as I feel like I'm shrinking within my own skin, throat parched dry yet not wanting to drink.

I can't count how many young women have sauntered my way ever since I sat here, flaunting their minimally-covered bodies, asking me to dance or even more than that. I wave them off as politely as I can, sending them on their way with a smile or a shake of my head to try their luck with someone else. I think the lightwork here is frenetic enough for me to not be recognized, but that's about the only good thing to come out of it.

Why did I go here? I'm so used to doing it - on a whim, just hop into the car and go. Night clubs use to seem like such a place to cure one's sorrows, get on the floor, dance your problems away, get piss-ass drunk and vomit in the morning, those kinds of things. But all that is lost on me right now - the instant I walked through the doors I felt like I had made a wrong decision coming here, so I just ordered a drink, found myself a booth and sat the whole night through.

What upsets me the most is the fact that I'm feeling like this.

I feel like something is happening within myself that I'm not aware of, and I hate that. Is this because the matches have been cancelled? Because my return from injury is postponed yet again?

Or is it because I've just lost Ji-Sung?

No, no, wait. Hold it right there. Wrong way to call it. I didn't lose Ji-Sung. No, I didn't.

You can't 'lose' something you never really had in the first place.

And who can blame him for moving on, for finding someone else? God knows he deserves much better than me. Much better than what I gave him. Maybe he's with one of his teammates now. Or maybe he's found himself a nice Japanese girl. Who knows?

I saw several reports of the J-League matches this evening. Ji-Sung has literally caught fire, and he's quickly becoming one of Asia's most talked-about footballers. He's led his team to their eighth consecutive victory, scoring four goals and setting up perhaps twice as many in the space of three matches. Not bad, for a team who only recently got promoted to the Japanese First Division. And it's largely thanks to him.

I'm so proud of Ji-Sung, so proud to see that beaming, youthful face, to see the fiery spirit that never seems to die. He looked so happy. So, very happy.

Perhaps even happier now that he doesn't have to worry about me.

Shit, I'm turning into a melancholic recluse. God help me.

"Hey there, Yeongbi..." a young woman with red-dyed hair interrupts my thoughts. She bends over my table seductively, her tight-fitting silvery top giving me fair view of her cleavage. "You look a litte lonely, want some company?"

Forcing a smile that probably looks more like a grimace after being worn all night, I shake my head. "No thanks. Maybe next time, huh?"

She shrugs her shoulders and walks away, stiletto heels giving her gait a bouncy, flashy stride. Not a bad package, I'll admit. Very attractive. And to be honest, I'm tempted. When was the last time I got laid? Seems ages away now - well, maybe because it is. But the last thing I need now is another flurry of tabloid headlines who got the juicy dirt from some unknown girl I decide to bang my sorrows into. No, thank you.

Maybe I should just leave this place. Before I go completely crazy and do something stupid. Yeah, sounds good. I got some friends who live in Seoul. Maybe I can stop by their place and ask to stay the night. God knows I don't want to drive back to Kwangnyang in this pouring rain, especially not the way I feel right now.

As soon as I can convince my ass to raise itself off this booth and - whoa, wait a minute.

My eye is caught by a figure on the dance floor, a young man, early twenties maybe. He's dancing right along with everybody, yet he seems to be the only one in the sea of human bodies that doesn't look like he stepped out of some funky K-Pop music video. Stylish, yet understated. Natural black hair, close-cropped - I can't really see his face clearly but he seems oddly familiar. Dark blue shirt, not too loose and not too tight, and black vynil pants - wow. My interest is piqued all of a sudden, and I'm not sure why.

His movements are subtle yet very pleasant to look at - you can tell he's an expert on the dance floor. When you frequent night clubs as much as I do you develop some sort of body language out there on the floor, like when somebody comes up to you and signals that she wants to dance with you, you either accept it or say no, all with the most minimal gestures. And this guy's mastered it down to a science. I can count at least five different women who's tried to shimmy their way up to him, but he always turns them away. Loner? Unwilling to share the spotlight? Bisexual?

He has graceful limbs - arms that follow the beat of the music and the movement of his body, legs encased in black vynil. Strong legs, too. Like a footballer's. Wait a minute. Footballer's legs? I narrow my eyes and try to get a closer look at his face.

I'll be damned.

It's Choi Tae-Uk, one of my national teammates. But how could it be? What is he doing here - wait, the matches are cancelled, so maybe he's just doing the same thing as me. And his club's training base in Gyurie is even closer to Seoul than my training base in Kwangnyang, so it makes sense.

Leaving my drink on the table, I get off the booth and walk over to the dance floor. It takes a while to get to his position, especially since I'm trying to pick up the beat of the music to stay discreet. The closer I get, the more convinced I am that it's him. Once I manage to stand right beside him, I touch him lightly on the shoulder.

"Uke?" I say, using the nickname that he goes by during our time in the national team.

He flicks his head in my direction, his eyes narrowing for a brief moment but then widening with a smile as he recognizes me. "Nam-Il! What are you doing here?"

Quickly, I set a finger on my lips to tell him to keep quiet, then jerk my thumb back to the booth where I've been sitting. Uke nods and follows me, weaving our way through the mass of dancing bodies, and we sit down at my secluded booth.

"Well, well...never thought I'd be seeing you here." I smile as he sits across me. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"I'll have that, too." Uke gestures at the Redrock in front of me.

"Nice being old enough to drink, huh?" I smirk as I signal the waitress to get me another bottle.

Uke smiles - when he smiles the skin of his face is pulled taut around his small, sparkly eyes, an expression of uninhibited cheer. I wonder why I never noticed just how pretty he is before. "I don't drink much, really. Just once in a while."

"So...what brings you to this place?"

"Well, the matches are cancelled, my team's been given the night off, and I really need a break, so I figured this would be a good place to enjoy myself." Uke nods as the waitress sets down a bottle of Redrock in front of him. "I was going to ask Young-Pyo to come with me, but he wants to stay home."

"Young-Pyo's never been much of a party animal, anyway." I say.

"Not like you, huh?" Uke smiles at me, his lips dancing along the rim of the beer bottle. "I sometimes find it hard to believe that you two are of the same age."

"Maturity and age don't always go hand in hand." I say a little sheepishly. "Well, you look like you were enjoying yourself out there. Maybe I should've taken you with me when I went clubbing after the presentation ceremony."

Uke laughs at this. "Oh, I remember that. The president shook your hand and asked you what you wanted to do now, and you said 'I just want to go to a night club, sir.' I could hardly believe my ears!"

I laugh too, a little embarrassed. "You know me...not much on protocol."

Uke takes a long drink from his bottle, and I watch as his throat convulses while he swallows. He's only a few months older than Ji-Sung and Chun-Soo, and yet he looks so different from both of them. The youthful enthusiasm is there, of course, as is the spirit, but somehow me comes across as being more mature both in appearance and in the way he conducts himself. And all of it in a very nice package, too. We weren't too close during our time in the national team - he mostly sticks to Young-Pyo since both of them are in the same club, while I'm usually with the likes of Ji-Sung and Doo-Ri.

What is it with me and these younger players? Now not only do I feel old, but a little perverted, too.

"So I read that you won second-place in the All-Star poll, congratulations." he says.

I shake my head. "I don't know how the hell I got that one. I haven't played any football for two months, and suddenly I'm voted second-best for the All-Star game? Ahead of Young-Pyo and Chong-Gug?"

Uke smiles at me. "Don't worry, Young-Pyo doesn't mind at all. I don't think he cares much about these popularity polls."

"Tell you the truth I don't care much, either." I say. "Why me, Uke? Why am I suddenly the target for all this media hype? They could've picked a more good-looking member of the national team - hell, you could've been it."

Uke cocks an eyebrow at me. "Nam-Il, I played for what - ten minutes?"

"A very good ten minutes."

"Maybe, but still - you stood out of the pack." he says. "And not just because of the hair. By the way, I like this colour better."

I smile and run a finger through my newly-blonde hair. "Thanks."

"How's the ankle?"

"Good." I take a drink out of my Redrock. "Actually, I was hoping to play tonight. But Mother Nature won't allow it."

"Yeah, God knows when this rain will stop." Uke said sympathetically. "Just when the season is starting to get interesting. My coach is itching to get us to the top of the table."

"Hey, hey..." I chide him playfully. "Don't forget my team!"

Uke looks at me and smiles. "Ahh, yes. We're what - equal second with only a goal difference?"

"I think so."

"Hmmm...I guess I'll be playing against you next time our team meets, right?"

"I'll be looking forward to it, Uke."

"So will I, Nam-Il." he says, adding a wink to his words.

Is he trying to flirt with me? I could almost swear... but really, I don't think I mind at all. Uke's very good-looking, especially tonight. I've never seen him wear vynil before, but damn - he wears it so well. Ji-Sung would never wear these kinds of clothes!

"So how come you weren't on the dance floor earlier?" he asks me, jarring me from my thoughts as my eyes wander down his body.

"Huh? Oh...I just, I just don't feel like it, I guess." I shrug.

"The night scene not working its magic as good as it used to?"

"I guess you can say that..." I mutter. "Who knows? Maybe I'm getting a little too old."

"Oh, come on!" he says. "You're probably just not in the right groove."

Not in the right groove? Okay, now I really need to brush up on all this youngster lingo. It seems so natural coming from him, though, not a deliberate attempt to be cool or anything like that. I don't think Uke even has to try to be cool. He seems to have it right within his skin.

"I was about to leave a few minutes ago, but then I saw you." I say. "Can't pass up the chance for some good company."

Uke takes another sip from his bottle. "What, you prefer my company to all these lovely women walking around? You could have your pick of the lot, you know."

Yes, Uke, I prefer your company. And you look better than all these glitter-polished women combined. "Not in the mood for that, either."

Uke's eyes seem to be evaluating me, craning his neck slightly. Being studied like this usually makes me uneasy, but with him I feel none of it.

"You want to go someplace else?" he offers finally.

"Hey, you were having a lot of fun there." I gesture at the dance floor. "Don't let me stop you. I'll be just fine."

"Nah, I was thinking of leaving anyway. Save my energy. Who knows when they'll decide to hold the postponed matches?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Uke nods, then he smiles wickedly. "Plus I didn't bring my car and took a taxi here. If you give me a lift I can save myself some money."

I laugh and shake my head at him. "Cheapskate."

He stands up slowly, giving me fair time to look at the way the clothes seem to cling at his body in all the right places. Beautiful. "You gonna pick up the tab or should I?"

"I'll do it." I say, reaching for my wallet, my eyes still firmly fixed on his body. I didn't know vynil could entice me so much...am I developing some sort of fetish here?

We end up driving around town in the rain, talking about our experiences and recalling our memories with the national team. It was good to listen to things from his perspective, because we were never best friends back then. Conversation seems to flow out of him naturally, and I feel significantly better just by talking to him. Either he just has it in his blood or he's a very experienced socialite. Whichever, doesn't really matter to me.

We stop at this small coffee shop in the outskirts of town, a cozy little place that serves drinks and pastries at a deserted street corner, well away from the busy main roads and the night club district.

"You know..." he says as he digs his fork into a slice of cake. "I heard somewhere that you were trying to set up a scholarship fund."

"Oh, you heard?" I say as I skim my finger along the rim of my coffee mug, loving the way the steam caressed my face lightly. "It's still in early stages of development."

"Following in the Captain's path?"

"Something like that." I take a light sip, feeling the black liquid burn a comforting trail down my throat and into my stomach. "But Myung-Bo's fund is set up for youth football. Mine's more towards disadvantaged children in general."

"So can I expect to see you in advertisements and commercials soon?"

I smile at him. "Maybe. I said I would only agree to endorsement deals if the companies agree to donate a certain amount to the fund - and BOOM!"

"You got hundreds of companies lining up for your autograph."

I nod my head. "My agents are swamped with the offers. I tell them I only want those that can offer me a solid deal, and not just a publicity stunt."

"That's good." Uke licks his fork, and I can't help but watch as his tongue dances along the silvery utensil. God, what am I thinking?

"You want some of this?" he offers me his plate. "It's good, you know."

"No...no thanks." I say.

"Come on, it's really good!" he says, and before I can stop him he scoops up a large piece with his fork and offers it to me. "Here, try it."

And somehow, the idea of eating off the fork held in his hand convinces me to open my mouth. He gently angles the fork into my mouth and I reach out with my hand to hold his wrist and steady him, as I bite the cake off.

Hmmm....caramel. I love caramel. Sweet and intoxicating. And the fact that he's the one feeding me somehow makes it even better.

"You're right." I say as I lick my lips. "It's really good."

"Should I order another one?"

"No, I don't think I can finish a full plate."

"But you won't mind another bite, won't you?"

I smile at him. "No, I won't mind that at all."

We spend the rest of our time there just talking about things, him occasionally feeding me a bite of his cake. And each time, I get just a little more excited. Finally, he finishes the cake and licks the fork clean, me watching him the entire way.

"Getting late..." he mutters.

I nod. "I should drive you back to Gyurie now."

"You sure you're ok with it? I can give you gas money."

I shake my head and smile. "Hey, you showed me quite a good time tonight. Consider it a return favor."

So we drive again to the Anyang Cheetahs training base, the rain substantially reduced to just a light drizzle. I could've driven him back to his home if he wanted to, but he says most of the team is staying at the base anyway, to better adjust to whatever schedule the K-League officials come up with to make up for tonight's cancelled games.

"Well, here we are." he says as he unbuckles his seatbelt. "Thanks, Nam-Il."

"Uke, wait." I say. "Can I...have your number?"

"Sure." he pulls out his cell phone. "Give me yours too."

After we both saved each other's number, Uke opens the door and steps outside.

"Hey..." I call after him. "Thanks. I had a good time."

"Me, too." he smiles. "See you at the All-Stars, okay?"

"Right. Good night, Uke."

"Night."

I watch as he greets the guard at the front gate and he lets him in. Uke looks back at me and waves, and I wave back. Then, he disappears into the building.

Sighing, I lean back against the headrest and try to figure out just what is happening with me. Whatever it is, it feels good. And Uke really helped making what could have otherwise been a pretty dull night into a good one. Can't really help it if I feel just slightly attracted, can I?

Slightly? You were eating off the fork in his hand, you idiot. Slightly attracted?

Oh, shut up. Cut me some slack, I've had a rough few days.

Before the voices in my head can declare all-out war on each other and drive me insane, I start the car and head back to the road, on my way back to Kwangnyang. No use trying to think about it now. Maybe tomorrow, when I'm a little more clear-headed.

See you at the All-Stars.

Hmm...I think I'll be looking forward to this All-Star game even more now.

On to Part 4