Claire couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions as he observed the stark contrast between the two coaches' expressions. Even though chants of his name occasionally echoed through the Stade Pierre-Mauroy, Sir Alex Ferguson didn't so much as glance in his direction.
"Your popularity is insane!" Park Ji-sung muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with playful envy. He even raised a hand to cover his smirk, as if afraid someone might catch him grinning. "If you held a concert, I bet you'd give Taylor Swift a run for her money!"
"So… how's it going with Jessica Jung?" Park continued, lowering his voice. "My girlfriend told me she had a huge fight with her manager the day she got back to Korea. And get this—the entire SNSD management team got replaced!"
Claire had planned to ignore Park's chatter, but the moment Jessica's name came up, he had no choice but to respond. "Eh, nothing much. Just gave her a song and a story."
Internally, Claire was fuming.
"Do these foreigners have zero sense of strategy? Lying low, biding your time—ever heard of it? You go back and immediately pick a fight with your agency? What are you gonna eat? What are you gonna drink? Expecting me to support you?"
But of course, he couldn't say that out loud. To throw Park off, Claire casually steered the conversation elsewhere.
Meanwhile, Park was mentally rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, right. You didn't sleep with her? Bullshit. You know how many artists are begging for a collab with the so-called 'EDM Prodigy'? And you just handed a song to some Korean girl? If nothing happened between you two, I'll eat my own cleats."
(For the record, Claire was completely innocent—since the Chelsea match, his interactions with Warner Music had been strictly about song royalties. Even Beyoncé, a former Warner artist, couldn't get his contact info!)
---
The match itself was painfully dull. At one point, the stadium's big screen even cut to a fan yawning, as if urging both teams to pick up the pace.
But Cristiano Ronaldo was having a miserable time.
In the Premier League, he was unstoppable—but tonight? Totally neutralized.
Lille's young star Sidney Govou, usually a forward, had been reassigned to man-mark Ronaldo after the coach switched to a defensive setup. Govou didn't just stick to Ronaldo—he ignored all other plays, shadowing him like a stalker with a vendetta.
"Hey, you a fan or something?" Ronaldo quipped, trying to shake him off.
"Nah," Govou shot back, grinning. "But I do know that if I steal the ball from you, I'll get a standing ovation. Too bad your team's big pop star isn't playing—if I scored past him, I'd be famous overnight."
Ronaldo nearly tripped over his own feet.
Sure, the media had called Manchester United a "treasure map"—crack it open, and you'd find instant fame. But no one had ever said it to his face. Not even Arsenal had the guts. Yet here was some Lille rookie, spitting facts like it was nothing.
---
### The Play That Almost Changed Everything
Ryan Giggs, ever the veteran, sliced through Lille's midfield—only to be swarmed by three players. Spotting Ronaldo in space, he flicked the ball back to Nani, who immediately passed it all the way to Van der Sar.
The Dutch keeper launched a long ball straight to Ronaldo.
"Let's see whose head's harder—yours or mine!" Ronaldo taunted before leaping for the header.
Govou, with his natural athleticism, should've won it—but Ronaldo tugged his jersey mid-jump, securing the ball with a smooth chest trap.
"HE PULLED ME!" Govou collapsed dramatically, rolling around like he'd been shot.
The referee waved play on.
Ronaldo sped forward, the entire United squad surging behind him like a red tsunami.
But just as two defenders closed in, he backheeled to Nani, who chipped it toward the right flank—
—only for Wayne Rooney to miss the run entirely.
Lille's Mathieu Bodmer intercepted, sparking a lightning counterattack.
---
### The Real MVP
"What's wrong with Rooney today?" Claire muttered from the bench. "Meanwhile, Giggs is playing like he's on crack."
Park shrugged, equally baffled.
Because Giggs—33 years old, no World Cup legacy, and starved for global glory—was putting on a masterclass.
Not only did he shut down Bodmer's attack, but he also drew a yellow card with a veteran's cunning.
"First ten years, you play with your legs," Park mused. "Last ten? You play with your brain."
Claire nodded. "If not for Giggs, that's a goal. Rooney's getting benched after this—he's been zoned out all game."
In the end, United barely scraped a draw.
Rooney played the full 90 minutes—but his mind was clearly elsewhere.