Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro Vargas loved two things more than anything in the world: his country, Mexico, and him. The dark-eyed Korean boy with the gentle smile he'd met at university, who was now in Seoul. And the World Cup was the perfect excuse to cross the globe .

🇲🇽 Match day — Full stadium, even fuller heart

The stadium roared with thousands of voices, but Alejandro only heard one. He stood in the stands, dressed head to toe in mariachi attire: a black suit embroidered with gold thread that shimmered in the sun, a wide-brimmed charro hat perched on his head, polished boots that squeaked with every step, and a white shirt with a red tie. In his hands, an immense bouquet of red roses, so large it almost covered his chest—thirty roses, one for each day they had been apart .

Her heart was beating louder than any drum in the band. She had traveled over 12,000 kilometers just to see him. And there he was: in the stands for the Korean national team, him .

🇰🇷 The Encounter — The Most Handsome Korean in the World

When he looked up, Alejandro gasped. The Korean man was beautiful, a beauty that was almost painful: soft, dark hair, large, expressive eyes that sparkled with the excitement of the game, pale skin that flushed the moment he saw him. He was wearing the red and black national team jersey, and when their eyes met, the entire stadium seemed to fall silent .

Alejandro didn't hesitate. Pushing through the crowd, he descended the steps with a confident stride, the bouquet of red roses gleaming like fire in his arms. Everyone watched: the Mexican mariachi, imposing and passionate, walking straight toward her heart .