Deuce! Part 1 - Junghwan
Title: Deuce! Part 1 - Junghwan
Pairing: Jinyoung/Sandeul
Rating: G (for now)
Summary: Junghwan's job is to call the shots in tennis matches. But can he still do the same in front of love?
There are few types of sports popular in Korea: football (usually called soccer), baseball (not the videos!), and Starcraft II. Tennis? Sure, the citizens know who Federer, Nadal, and Sharapova are but that's just because they're already so popular. There isn't much of a strong fanbase for Korean tennis players. And that's something Junghwan doesn't like.
When he was younger, it was a little more than frustrating for him that none of his classmates knew (or even cared) who Carlos Moya is, what an ace was, or what the French Open meant. Due to his unique interest, his parents sometimes worried that he didn't have friends in school, although they like the instant entertainment they can provide whenever their friends and potential business partners came to visit.
But Junghwan does have a best friend. Sunwoo didn't care much about tennis until he turned fifteen and decided he wanted to stand out from the other guys in school. It turns out bringing his raquet to class actually made girls more curious about him, but (to Junghwan’s dismay) not the sport.
During tournaments, Junghwan would support Sunwoo, one player being in the middle of “often” and “always”. One important fragment of his love for tennis involved a particular Jung Jinyoung, the number 1 ranked Korean junior tennis player in the boys division, 17th in the world. The first time they met was when both their parents thought it was nice to leave their eight-year-old kids on a viewing box in court Suzanne Lenglen at a French Open match. It was Junghwan’s first exposure to the sport. He was more than enthusiastic while watching the players hit the ball back and forth, occasionally using different strategies (tricks, as an eight-year-old would call them) to earn points and cheers from the crowd. His concentration was broken when Jinyoung spoke, seemingly coming to a resolve.
“I’ll be a tennis player someday.” He said before sipping in some lemonade.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Will you come and support me?”
“Sure I’ll support you. You’re my friend.”
A big upward curve formed on Jinyoung’s lips at the sound of the word ‘friend’ and the boy held up a hand to make it official. “Let’s do a pinky swear!”
And Junghwan kept that promise even if he wouldn’t get to meet Jinyoung until six years later at a local tournament. When he was sixteen, he even volunteered to be a ball boy for the Australian Open. Sunwoo would have been glad he made the suggestion if he didn’t find out he’d face off with Jinyoung at the third round of the boys’ singles category, and at the quarterfinals of the boys’ doubles.
“Why can’t you just partner with him on your doubles matches?” Junghwan asked when he found out his best friend would be playing with his previous team mate from Germany.
“I’m telling you, Jinyoung isn’t like the person you met when you were little. I even wonder how his Japanese team mate can put up with him. Maybe it's the language barrier.” Sunwoo said while packing. “He probably doesn’t even remember you.”
“Maybe he doesn’t. But I do. Hey, if it makes you feel better, I won’t shout cheers this time. I’ll keep quiet. You can even think I’m silently hoping you’ll win.”
“You’re my best friend Junghwan. But sometimes I think there’s more between you and Jinyoung than just a pinky promise.”
So much for being an honest friend.
There isn' really anything more between the two outside of a pinky promise during an afternoon at a tennis court. At least on the surface, there isn’t. Junghwan usually gets a smile-and-wave that all fans would receive. People would assume that this is as far as their relationship goes post-pinky-promise. This excludes however, whatever feelings Junghwan has been secretly harboring toward the other, especially when athlete gives a cute pout and runs around the court, hair bouncing about
Each ace and winner resulted in a skipped heartbeat for Junghwan. And every backhand, forehand, slice, and smash increased it. One could probably read the game statistics by monitoring his heart rate. When a contested point is ruled against Jinyoung, he’d shake his head in disappointment (more at the umpire than the player).
Sunwoo went on to lose both the Australian Open junior events to Jinyoung, but not without giving his compatriot a hard time (which includes an exhausting 3-set match for the singles game). He continued to play until the end of the year before deciding not to turn pro, convinced that he’d get more girls if he became a rapper for an idol group.
The love for tennis lead Junghwan to train as a tennis official. According to him, the umpires have “the best view of the game”. It isn’t an easy job to be a line or chair umpire. Dealing with criticism from both players and fans are just one of the usual chores. Besides working part-time at his father’s business pushing paper when there aren’t any matches, he also has to pick which ones to work for to try to make sure he’ll get more experience on the high chair. But he can’t be too picky or he won’t be promoted. And you always, always have to stay focused on what’s happening on-court. You can’t give out the wrong call.
On a warm spring afternoon, Junghwan received an early call from his boss just as he woke up saying that a few of his higher-ranked colleagues couldn’t sit on their afternoon matches due to scheduled interviews with foreign embassies. He was recommended as a replacement.
Junghwan’s eyes widened when he saw the details of the match he was assigned to.
Court 1: Men’s singles; Third round: Jung Jinyoung KOR (25th seed) v. 6. Juan Martin Del Potro ARG (6th seed)
Couldn’t his debut at a large court be any more special? He was already thinking how excellent his deli sandwich breakfast was becoming. How he loves the French! He wouldn’t get to jump and scream during the game. But it’s still the first time he’ll even get to see Jinyoung play from the best seat on-court (which ends his streak of bad luck of being a line umpire every time he gets assigned to Jinyoung’s matches, even the ones done in Korea).
He sat on the umpire’s chair that afternoon and soon enough, the players walked in. Jinyoung looked up to where Junghwan was sitting, surprised to see someone unfamiliar on the seat. Pleasantly surprised maybe, Junghwan thought, judging from the smile he received. Good thing there was an umbrella above him, or he wouldn’t have a shadow to hide his blush. He reminded himself though, that that was the last blush he’ll be having for the rest of the match. It was time to work.
The game started with an ace provided by Jinyoung.
"Quinze." Fifteen (a prerequisite to 1 point), Junghwan said through the mic in his slightly Korean-noted French.
This paved the way for an early lead, Jinyoung taking the first set with a score of 6-2. As if suddenly awoken by Junghwan’s announcement of the score, Juan Miguel Del Potro fought back to get the second set despite of resistance from the other party that almost lead to a tie-breaker.
On the third set, Jinyoung would use one of his few chances to challenge a ruling. It was one of their rallies, each player just hitting back-and-forth, when the Argentine decided to try a particularly difficult angle to send the ball to the sideline somewhere near the net. With the ball moving in the speed of a race car, it was no surprise for Junghwan to hear the other player ask for him to look at the line once more. He got down from his chair and jogged to the other side of the court, where Jinyoung met him. Looking at the direction of the dust from the clay court, it was pretty obvious for him that the ball hit the line. He bent down for a bit and pointed his finger to where he believes the ball went. What surprised him though was Jinyoung, asking him to take another look, this time, in their native language.
“Look at it again please. Consider the angle of the dust. You’re Korean right?”
Narrowing his eyes, Junghwan looked at the line again, without getting the hint. He translated his explanation on his head and said “There’s nothing off with the angle of the dust. At least thirty percent of the ball hit the line.”
“But dongsaeng, it’s out.” the athlete said, using a tone that slightly sounded like a command to Junghwan’s ears. And this time, he got the hint. He wished he didn’t.
“The ball is in. That’s final.” He said, a cold gaze lingering on the sideline before he went back up to the chair. It was the first and last time Jinyoung challenged his ruling.
That afternoon’s four-set men’s singles game on court one ended 6-2, 5-7, 3-6, 2-6, in favor of Juan Martin Del Potro. The Argentine shook Junghwan’s hand with a smile before signing the camera of the event’s official broadcaster (a popular tradition in modern tennis). Jinyoung still held up his hand, but he only slightly touched the umpire’s fingers before packing up and leaving in silence, not bothering to sign the giant tennis balls that the fans were handing out to him.
Junghwan left the venue just before sunset, hearing loud cheers from one of the last matches of the day. He waits for the bus heading back to the dorm he was staying at. When it arrives, he takes one look at the advert for a camera featuring the number one Korean tennis player (number 26 in the world) and gets on. Somewhere on the way home, tears begin to fall from his eyes, gaining him a concerned look from the woman seated beside. He purses his lips before giving a smile, wondering which betrayal was heavier to take.
Note: I apologize for using a lot of tennis-related terms. I hope you liked it!!