Tonight's our first game of the season. It's the one that sets the tone for the rest of the year - will we be championship bound at the end of this, or will my addition to the team be the team's ultimate downfall? It's the first game where so much is on the line: Jungkook's scholarships, my scholarships, the future of college for Namjoon, Jimin, Hoseok, and every other senior on the team... My head fills with pessimistic thoughts, and my self-induced pressure of performing well grows exponentially bigger by the second.

I could do this, consuming myself with the stress, or I could just take it as it plainly is: just a soccer game. It's 2 hours of doing my favorite thing in the world. I tell myself that, but it's harder said than done.

And on top of that, I would be lying if I didn't say I was affected at all with that Facebook thread about me from Heeju's party. That night, I know I swore to Jungkook and the rest of them that I wouldn't even touch the social media platform, but I couldn't resist the temptation! My finger scrolled for what seems like hours, reading the comments from both trolls that kept making fun of my biceps and also my savior angels that defended that I could beat all of them in a fight.

It's taken me a while to get over, but for now, I'm going to use all of the negative comments as motivation. I'm going to show them, tonight, the clear difference. They're behind a computer screen, masking their insecurities while picking at my flaws, while I'm kicking on a soccer field, living a reality that they could only dream of.

As I'm tightening the shoelaces on my lucky pink cleats, I see a familiar male walking making the right at my corner of lockers. He comes in and leans on a row of lockers so confidently; only this guy can step around with such a stride on this team.

"Here we ing go!" Jungkook starts clapping his hands. "Let's make a bet on the final score. I think, realistically, it'll be 1 - 6. It can be 1 - 7 if we want to exert our full energy on this first game. But we can definitely save that for a harder school."

"1 - 6?" I repeat. "How optimistic. Either that or you're just really cocky."

"Not cocky, but confident in the team. We've been looking good these past practices, you can't deny that."

"We look decent. That Daesung guy almost always trips himself when he tries to do a stop-and-go. And Taemin insists he can do a spin move, but every single time, he's failed. He can't experiment out on the field; we have to stick to what we know we can do and what we're good at."

"It kind of warms my heart that you're so attentive," Jungkook starts. "I think you'll be happy to learn that as captain, I have one-on-ones with every member. Everything you see, I've seen, too. I've let them know, don't worry."

"Hm," I get up after tying a bow on my shoes. "You're more impressive than that I thought. All this time I thought all you did was keep a ball from going into the goal. I always thought that job was easy," I say, sarcastically. I have an immense amount of respect for Jungkook and his role. It's insanely difficult to be just as mentally involved in the game as you are physically. Goalkeepers need to be strategic, be able to make successful split-second decisions, and have an heightened sense of instinct. I surely don't possess all those qualities, so I look up to Jungkook a lot for his well-roundedness, in addition to being a pretty good leader, I guess.

"And all I thought you did was jump your ankles around and grunt as loud as you can. But I guess we both can admit that our initial judgements were wrong?"

Jungkook also gets extra brownie points for being kinda funny.

"You can, I'm still pretty adament with mine," I chuckle and catch a glimpse of Hoseok from behind Jungkook's head.

"FOUR MINUTES! EVERYONE, START GATHERING AT THE FRONT NOW!" Hoseok yells into his cuffed hands, and puts up four fingers in the air. Jungkook tells me good luck and starts going around giving pep talks to the individual team members, as the good captain he is. Before I meet everyone at the front, I take a quick minute to do a some breathing exercises to calm my nerves. 

When my heart rate's gotten down to one I'm content with, I make my way towards the front where a big crowd is already forming. I stand next to Namjoon's shoulder and nudge him his side. Namjoon's much taller, so it's a pretty funny but endearing feeling when he looks directly downwards to talk to me.

"You ready, the star striker of our team? Don't go and score 5 goals tonight, alright? We need to start smaller first - but still win - so we can see an improvement as the season progresses." Namjoon asks, and I roll my eyes.

"I'm going to try my best. At my best, I could score two tonight," I answer.

"Your best is scoring ten tonight," Namjoon adds. "I don't know why you sell yourself so short sometimes. You're good. You know it, we know it, the whole school knows it!"

"Not the whole school," I mutter, but I'm afraid the volume was audible enough for Namjoon. I mentally curse at myself as I prepare for Namjoon's lecture.

"You're not talking about that dumb Facebook thread, right? We've told you this so many times! It's. not. worth. it." Namjoon harshly enunciates his words, and I can hear him growing agitated, though I'm not sure if that's just because he's just fired up already for this game. "Please, you can't let this get to your head."

"Why am I hearing this, instead of the usual pep talk?" Jimin scoots himself into the conversation. "You guys, we're supposed to be hyping each other up! Getting pumped! Not have some weird heart to heart right now!"

"You're right, sorry. That whole thing's not important at all. It's honestly so ing dumb," I admit. This is a personal problem, and it's not fair for the team for this to spill into their lives as well.

"It is ing dumb! They're all ing dumb! You're a beast, Yerin!" Jimin yells at me.

"STAR STRIKER RIGHT HERE! A STRAIGHT BOSS IN THE MAKING!" Namjoon shouts along.

"You guys are so annoying," I say, but I'm definitely loving this.

"You know you're supposed to do it back to us? That's the whole point of hyping each other up as a team," Jimin adds.

"Give me some time to get more comfortable, I'm not used to kissing ," I admit. "Not saying you guys are kissing my right now, but my compliment-giving skills need a lot of work."

"If you can't do it by Week 4, I'm going to cry," Namjoon pretends to wipe a tear from his cheek. "All I ever want in life is a compliment from the great Yerin."

"You must be deserving of a compliment from the great Yerin first," I tease, and the three of us laugh together. Hoseok's in the front, now shouting out a 30 second countdown before the team runs onto the field, through a banner the cheerleaders made, ready to face hundreds of rival high school students.

It's nervewracking, but so exciting to be part of. I really wonder what I would have been doing right now if I didn't agree to join this team. Maybe be on my , five pounds heavier, on the couch reading sci-fi books. Or baking my favorite white chocolate pistacho cookies with Aimee in my kitchen with a rom-com playing in the next room over.

Regardless of what I could be doing right now, I wouldn't switch out anything for this feeling right now. Hoseok's down to the number one, and then when he shouts, "LET'S GOOO!", we all scream on the top of our lungs as our legs take us, as fast as we can, outside the locker room and onto the soccer field.

I feel my heart rate grow faster and faster - I want to say from exhileration - as the gray locker room door opens and unveils our soccer field, blazingly illuminated with the floodlights that border the grass. The bleachers are packed with rowdy teens from both schools; our side looks like a sea of blue and yellow, while the other school's all yucky green (no offense to green, but we're enemies here).

Both teams run to the middle of the field to meet and exchange handshakes with each other, per typical game ettiquette. I take notice at the bewildered looks that the guys on the opposite team give me. I don't blame them; it is a weird situation to be in. They probably don't know whether to go easy on me, which would be unfair, or to equally as tough as they would with all boys, which to a lot of people is still unfair.

I try not to give it any mind and instead go back to giving these half-effort handshakes. We're nearing the end of the line until one guy suddenly shakes my hand, with a smile, and speaks.

"Kim Yerin, I'm a big fan," he says. "I'm Jung Yooin, my cousin Mijoo was in the same league as you. She always talked highly of you."

My heart instantly warms. Mijoo was a talented midfielder, shame she had to leave due to a knee injury. "Oh, that's so sweet. Please tell her hello for me."

"I will! It's an honor to play with you. I hope you don't let all the negative posters affect your gameplay, it would be awesome to see you in your fullest potential!"

"Negative posters?" I repeat. I'd just been focused on the handshakes and coldly meeting these guys eye-to-eye that I haven't paid much attention to crowd of students.

"Uh, there's one there," Yooin points to my right. I twirl my head instantly. A knot forms in my stomach, in my throat, and I feel practically my entire body swell up when I realize that it's someone from my own school. The person is in full royal blue body paint, so I can't make out who it is. But right in their blue hands hold up a white poster in thick, black marker: KIM YERIN. GIRL, OR GODZILLA?

"But again, don't mind them. You're probably already used to haters by now, but it's great that you haven't let them get to your head." Yooin gives me a grin before moving on to the next person to shake their hand.

It's great you haven't let any of them get to your head, I repeat in my head. Not yet, that is.

When we've finished exchanging handshakes and huddle back in our team, I try to keep an eye out for more posters in the bleachers on the walk there. I see a few saying how girls shouldn't be on the team, which I get, but that last one is the only one that directly making fun of me. I unconsciously take my hands and press them against my abdomen. Am I that bulky, and scary, that I resemble an actual monster?

I take my place somewhere in the outer layers of the huddled group, the thoughts still lingering in the back of my head. Jungkook's voice temporaily snaps me out of it.

"ALRIGHT TEAM! FIRST GAME OF THE WHOLE ING SEASON!" Jungkook shouts, and all of us cheer back in response.

"I need everyone to get your head in the ing game for this. We worked way too hard last season, this summer, and pre-season to not give it our all. We almost had our whole damn season cut for 's sake, and we had to make last minute changes to the team - but guess what? We're. still. here," Jungkook affirms. "We win this, and I just feel it in my bones that we'll go to the championship at the end of this. We start high, and we finish high. You guys hear me loud and clear?!"

We all shout, "LOUD AND CLEAR!".

"On the count of three, we say 'let's win this'. Alright?! One... two... three!"

"LET'S WIN THIS!!" We then all break; the first string group run to our respective positions, while the second string takes their place on the bench with no ill feelings. When I swiftly jog to my place, I try my best not to look back at the crowd. It's a disheartening feeling, because there's probably tons of posters rooting for us, enthuasiatic classmates adorning their bodies in school spirit... but I just can't risk it. If I see another hateful poster, I might break.

"Let's go, Yerin!" Jimin shouts at me on my way to position. I twirl my head back at hm to give him a smile and a 'hwaiting!'. It's then when I faintly see a loud, red poster just past Jimin's ear in the background. The red definitely was successfully in catching my attention - I squint my eyes quickly to make out that the poster says: KIM YERIN, GET OFF THE FIELD!

I sigh once I've swallowed the fact that that truly