Chapter 8

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Sunday, September 7th 2014

'Do you need any help moving your stuff in?' asked Mark, pulling into a loading dock and starting to help him unload his stuff onto the footpath outside the entrance to his building.

'No,' Jack replied, probably too fast, 'I'll be grand from here. I don't have that much stuff.' He felt knots in his stomach as he stared up at the apartment. God only knew what awaited him upstairs, and the conversation he needed to have with Ciarán was making him feel sick with anxiety, but he had talked it through dozens of times in his head on the way down. He was just happy for it to never be brought up ever again.

'Are you sure?'

'Cinnte, thanks though.' He couldn't risk Mark meeting Ciarán. Not before he spoke to him.

'Fadhb ar bith, Jacko,' he said, placing the last of Jack's bags onto the ground beside him.

'You off down to Limerick now?'

'Myself and Laura were gonna go for dinner first, then I'll probably hit the road.'

'Fair. When ya back next?'

'I probably won't be in Dublin for a few weeks now, but I'll see you at home, sure?'

'Sound. Go on so. I'll talk to ya. Thanks again.'

'Slán, a mhac,' Mark replied, giving Jack a quick one-armed hug and then climbed back into his car, 'and remember, if you can't be good with all these Dublin girls, at least be careful!' He gave Jack a wink and he smiled.

'Always. Gur'bh míle. See ya soon!'

And with that, Jack was alone; standing outside the entrance to his new apartment with a large rucksack on his back, a huge O'Neill's gear bag from his home club in either hand, and a duvet set he had bought in Penneys on the way down from Galway. It wasn't a lot of stuff, but he didn't need a lot in Dublin yet. He had planned on moving things down bit by bit anyway, but there was no point with this place as he'd be out of there as soon as possible all things going well. He took a deep breath, and text his landlord that he was outside. A few seconds later, his phone pinged.

Keys under the mat. If ya need anything, shoot me a text!

He shut the front door quietly behind him, but as he placed his gear bag onto the floor, a voice that sounded vaguely familiar cut across the room. 'How did you get in here?' Ciarán had just entered the room and was standing in front of him, staring with bewilderment. Jack said nothing for a moment. He simply stared back at the boy whose bed he had slept in just days previously. 'Do you...Are you...'

'I just moved in,' Jack finally mustered.

'What a small world,' replied Ciarán, his shocked face contorting into a smile, 'what are the chances of that? I suppose that's gay Dublin for ya!'

Jack stared blankly at him. He felt like he was going to get sick. Ciarán laughed awkwardly again, approaching Jack with a smirk on his face and clapped him on the shoulder and went in for a hug although Jack pulled his shoulder out of reach, and Ciarán's smile faded slightly, replaced with a look of confusion.

'Are you alri-'

'I don't know what you think happened the other night, but I'm not gay,' said Jack firmly.

'I...' he began, his brow furrowing, 'what?'

'I was fucked drunk, and I didn't know where I was. And I needed somewhere to stay. I'm not gay,' he repeated, his tone harsh, aggressive even, 'you kissed me.'

'I kissed you?' repeated Ciarán with a smirk, although there was anger in his tone, 'alright, calm down closet queen. I don't care what you are, but you-'

Jack stepped forward and grabbed him by the scruff of his hoodie. Ciarán's jaw fell open in shock, and the colour drained from his face. 'If you tell anyone anything...If anyone from home or here finds out about this, I'll break your arm. I just needed somewhere to stay-'

'Get your hands off me,' ordered Ciarán calmly, but firmly. Jack held onto him for a second longer, and then threw the boy back.

Jack said nothing. They stared each other down for a few moments, until Ciarán finally spoke again.

'You may be a big fish in a small pond back home. But here, you're nothing. Nobody cares about you or what you are, but if you ever touch me like that again, I'll ruin you.' Jack stared back at him, 'I won't say anything though. Make yourself at home...prick.'

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