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Jamie’s phone kept buzzing on the bench. He tried to ignore it, focusing on Ted’s speech. He couldn’t hear much over the continuous ringing in his ears, but he tried. He wanted to try.
It didn’t seem to work. Soon enough, Colin’s hand was on his shoulder, shaking him out of his trance. Beard was discussing tactics and needed Jamie to nod along, to understand what was asked out of him. He wasn’t sure he could do it today, but he nodded anyway. Sure thing, coach . He tried to ignore the tremors in his voice.
He could feel Roy staring at him - Jamie ignored the lump in his throat. He knew , Jamie was sure of it - and he couldn’t stand it. Everyone eventually left the room, the football boots clacking on the locker room floor. He couldn’t move. Roy was still standing right there, and it made Jamie’s cheeks turn bright red. He hated it, when Roy Kent stared right into his face as if he could read everything about him there - he hated it when they were basically nemesis, and he hated it even more now that the old man took pity on him.
His phone buzzed once more and Roy stepped forward, sitting on the bench next to Jamie.
“Wanna turn that off and join us on the pitch then?” he asked, his grumpy voice softer than usual.
Jamie didn’t answer - he didn’t know how to. He wanted to play, of course he did. But his mind and body seemed to remember how the last game ended and it froze him into place. Playing meant meeting expectations, ignoring his dad’s texts and comments, risking the weight of a defeat and the undying unworthy feeling that came with it. He wasn’t sure he was ready for it.
Noticing his lack of reaction, Roy grabbed the phone, glancing at it for a few seconds. He’s gonna see everything , Jamie thought. The insults, the humiliation, the fucking pain his dad inflicted, even over text. But Roy kept quiet - the flash of anger going through his gaze didn’t go unnoticed, though. He put the phone on silent mode and seemed to hesitate for a bit, moving it around from hand to hand.
“Do you want me to block his number?” he asked carefully.
Jamie had thought about it a few times, but had never found the strength to do it. Despite everything, a stupid stupid part of him still had fucking empathy for his dad - because that’s who he was, no matter what their relationship could be like. His father’s approval should have meant the world to him, and cutting the hope for redemption proved to be harder than he thought. He had also remembered the times his dad showed up unannounced at his house whenever Jamie couldn’t answer soon enough - and decided that a few texts shouldn’t bother him that much anyway.
“Couldn’t bring myself to do it,” Jamie just said. “I’m more concerned about what he’d do if I did,” he added quietly.
Roy clenched its jaw for a second, forcing himself to relax. He tried to focus on Jamie, tried to remember that he was in a vulnerable place, and that his support was more important than fueling his want to murder James fucking Tartt.
“He won’t get anywhere near you,” Roy answered. “You can fucking trust me on that. He’s already been forbidden to come anywhere near Richmond’s grounds - and he’ll be given a very warm welcome by everyone on this team if he dared to break these rules.”
Jamie chuckled at that. His dad could find a way, he always did. Jamie had never understood how the drunk old man could manage to pass security or come up with decent lies to tell his whole neighbourhood while waiting on his house’s porch. It shouldn’t happen this time, though. His father wouldn’t bother coming down from Manchester just to give him a piece of his mind if he couldn’t be in the Stadium. Jamie was pretty sure of that - and tried to ignore the anxiety building up in his stomach at the thought of his dad waiting for him somewhere.
He must have zoned out again, lost in his thoughts, as Roy put a tentative hand on his shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. They’d been here for a bit and the team must have been well advanced in the warm up - he’d have to get out there if he attended to play.
“You know what you’re gonna do, Jamie?” Roy asked, facing him.
Jamie tried to avoid his gaze, playing with his long sleeves. He was nervous, too nervous for the game, too nervous for this conversation.
“You’re gonna get on the field, and you’re gonna play football. Not because your shithead of a father wants you too, but because you love this game, because you’re fucking good at it, and most importantly: because you’re a part of our team, and we need you out there.”
James could only nod - as much as the thought of his team warmed his heart, he couldn’t push away the stress and anxiety that had built up since the previous week. He wasn’t sure he could handle the disappointed look on his teammates' faces if he wasn’t in the right headspace to play properly. Like a fucking psychic, Roy seemed to understand his fear.
“And if you don’t feel up for it - I’ll bench you myself.”
Jamie felt a pang of disappointment crossing his mind, his heartbeat speeding up again. He wasn’t going to be good enough for the team that way, and -
“Not to punish you, Jamie.” Roy added, “But because you deserve a fucking break. Do you understand that?”
The coach asked, stepping up, holding out a helping hand for Jamie.
Jamie exhaled - he hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. He took Roy’s hand to get up and nodded.
“Yes, coach. Crystal clear.”
.
Jamie ended up playing the whole match, assisting Dani in a goal before scoring one himself - and if Roy hugged him a little tighter than the other players at the end of the game, no one else needed to know.