He lets out a breath and kisses me.
“When you put it like that, we have a lot going on at the moment.”
He looks worried.I don’t want to see that look on his face.“We can hold off on it all if it’s bothering you?”
“No.It has to be done.You’re right, annoyingly as always, it will be a win for us all.”
“I don’t want to scare you, but you know how this could go, right?The local media might be our allies right now, but they could turn on us at any moment and get their poison hooks into the mainstream media and make them hate all of the LGBTQIA+ family.”
“You know what they say: hatred wins and spreads because good people sit back and do nothing.”
I kiss him because there’s nothing else to say after that.Kyle says I’m his anchor but he’s my lighthouse.
Chapter 36
Kyle
The final game of the season.As a fan, I haven’t enjoyed these days in years, hell, maybe since I was born.Union used to be a super power in world football, but it has become the butt of so many jokes.Today that changes.This season we have proved that we can go the distance, and we are back and hungry again.Win today, and no matter what happens, we win the league.Draw, and we have to hope that AJ’s City either draws or loses.The pressure feels insurmountable.For some.I’m relishing it.
AJ and I said our goodbyes this morning and vowed to not let the result affect us.I did say to him that whatever happens, he’ll be happy, and he begrudgingly agreed with me.
Instead of hitting the training lodge first, I head into the city center, incognito—beanie hat and dark shades, because that doesn’t look sus at all—to soak up the atmosphere.The early morning sun is bathing the city in gold, people are going about their day with either City or Union scarfs, and all of them have a pensive look on their face.
Some people say football is just a game, but they don’t see how deeply rooted it is to the fabric of everyday life.A win and you’re walking on cloud nine.A championship win, and you’re getting your mates and family around to celebrate all weekend, and then the players have the open-top bus parade.You want to soak up all the media and relive all the highlights.But if you lose…and to your bitter rivals…you do what I’ve done for the past decade, shut off all the media when they show them lifting the cup.I used to use those images as fuel while I practiced in the park with AJ.If City do win this year, though, I will look at the media photos, because I know it’ll be because of the man I love who has helped them win it.
Street vendors are selling half-and-half scarves, and the intrusive thoughts almost kick in and make me push the cart over.That would not be good for my media image, despite being in disguise.Later this afternoon, the currently sparse city center will be party central.Drinks will be flowing, music will be blasting, and I, despite the result, will be at home because all of that sounds like a hellscape.I will be at home with AJ, and we will console each other, depending on the result.
After spending an hour in the city center, I make my way to the training lodge, where I’m there before everyone else.I get into my training gear and take a bag of balls out to the shooting range.I practice taking free kicks and penalties.The sun is warm against my back beneath a perfect blue sky.
“Glad to see you have your shooting boots on,” says my manager.His unmistakable soft, yet commanding voice calls out from behind me.
I turn to face him, feeling a little embarrassed, like I’ve been caught doing something bad—hello to my brain that is always trying to prove I must be the best and get rid of the ‘bought his way in’ tag.“Trying to cover every scenario and be ready.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he says, moving closer to me.He watches my form as I take the shots.
“Keep that stance in the game and you’ll not miss.It’s how I used to take my shots.”
I know this, because I’ve studied every match of his, hung his posters on the wall, and emulated his celebration during every goal I scored at lunchtime in school.I don’t tell him this as it would ruin my reputation as someone who doesn’t get swept up by anyone or anything, so instead I say, “Thank you.Appreciate the tip.”I might be playing it cool but I’m a ball of excitement inside.
He looks like he wants to say something else, and before I know it, he has his hand on my shoulder.“I’m proud of you.”
I am stunned into silence, and he can tell, so he says, “Look, I know we’ve had the discussion about who youare,and I wanted to reiterate that you are part of the Union family, and you can count on me personally for anything.”
Words are not forming.This is the moment that I should be thanking him and saying what an honor it is for him to say something like that, and yet nothing.To my absolute horror, and against my better judgment, I wrap my manager into a hug.To my shock, he hugs me back.
“Thank you,” I finally manage to say, albeit in a small voice.
He gives me a smile and then heads off again, leaving me to continue my solo practice until the rest of the team arrives.
AJ
The changing room is alive with music, banter, and defiance.As far as my teammates are concerned, Union will choke, and we will once again reign supreme.Kyle cheekily pointed out to me earlier that I will have a win-win situation on my hands, and I said to him that if City wins, I’ll make it up to him in other ways, which he seemed to like the sound of immensely.
Rohan, the resident DJ, is playing some dance/trance—whatever kind of music it’s called—and is psyching himself up in the corner with some very suspect dance moves.McIntyre takes a different approach, he has his body in a yoga position, again.I don’t know what it’s called, but his legs are crossed at a funny angle and his arms are folded.He looks like a human pretzel.For as long as I’ve been in the locker room, he’s done this every game.
Everyone has their pre-match ritual, and I’m glad I’m not the only one.Mine is simple, I put my shirt on first before anything else.The shirt has always felt like my superhero cape.Whenever I wear it, I know I can accomplish anything on that pitch.
Gaffer comes in and gives us one hell of a team talk, which fires everyone up.Do or die.Stand or dive.Win or lose.At least I’m going home to Kyle.
