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The mood is entirely, understandably, subdued.
Andy walks into the room they’re meeting in at the grounds and is greeted with a few nods, a few mumbled hellos and a lot of sad eyes. He takes a breath, tries to think of something funny, something akin to his usual ridiculous humour to bring the mood up, but he falls short. He settles for saying nothing and collapsing down on a chair next to Jordan who glances up from his phone, pats Andy’s arm in what he guesses is supposed to be a soothing way but ends up seeming more absent-minded, and goes back to whatever he was doing.
There’s a box on the table with assorted clothes for them to wear during the parade and Kostas is sifting through it. He’s trying his best to keep their spirits up, holding things up to show Curtis and Luis who always look at each other first to assess each other’s opinion before committing to wearing anything. They accost Bobby as he walks in, handing him a cap and some red sunglasses as well as a scarf. He looks momentarily overwhelmed before offering his signature smile. The sight cheers Andy up somewhat.
“Hey, toss me a wee scarf or something will you?” Andy asks, nodding towards the box. The trio look at each other before starting to root through the box with a renewed fervour, giggling before Kostas drapes a scarf around Andy with a flourish.
“Ah, it’s perfect!” Andy nods and smiles, reaching out to pat Kostas’ arm.
“Thanks lads.” He looks around the room. Most of the team are here or are filtering through the door, most of team excluding Trent that is.
Andy frowns.
He’d texted Trent before setting off to check on him and to make sure he didn’t need a lift. Trent had replied that he was okay, that he could still remember how to get to the ground but thanks anyway. Andy had ignored Trent’s bad mood because he knows how awful Trent felt last night, how much he was beating himself up by not doing more to prevent the goal.
“Back in a minute.” Andy says to Jordan, who looks up and quickly checks his watch.
“We don’t have much time.”
“Trent.” Andy says by means of an explanation and Jordan looks around the room before nodding.
“Okay, be quick though.” he adds the second part with a knowing look and Andy nudges his shoulder on his way past.
Trent is looking blankly at his reflection in the mirror when Andy pushes open the bathroom door. He’s breathing a little shakily and Andy sighs softly.
“Trent?” despite how gently he says it Trent still jumps, glancing at Andy in the mirror and sighing.
“Fucking hell.”
“Glad to see me then?” Andy asks, coming to stand next to Trent and smiling.
“Always.” Trent tries to joke but it sounds half-hearted to both of them. Andy starts to say something along the lines of how they need to leave, like now, but Trent isn’t listening. Instead he turns to Andy suddenly, clutching at his hands, his voice shaky.
“You know, I’m not sure I want to do this. I don’t think I can.” Andy runs his thumb over the bones of Trent’s wrist and says his name softly.
“Trent …”
“No, don’t try and say anything ….” Trent looks as tired as Andy feels and Andy wishes he could wipe away both the tears which threaten to fall as well as the dark circles under his eyes. He knows how hard Trent is taking this, how much he lets other people’s opinions on social media get to him, how he’ll blame himself for their loss.
“Trent, please listen to me, it’ll look worse if you don’t go ...” Trent’s eyes narrow and he tries to pull away but Andy keeps hold of his hands. He doesn’t want Trent going off in this current mood. Trent settles for huffing out a breath.
“I don’t give a fuck how it’ll look; I don’t want to do this. There will be hardy anyone there and you just know the ones who do are only coming out of pity because we … I fucked it up for us and we missed out on the league and now we’ve missed out on this and we were supposed to win the fucking quadruple and we only ended up with two and this is my childhood club and I just feel like I let it down and …” Trent takes a gasp of a breath and collapses against Andy’s chest, his shoulders shaking, tears falling.
On instinct Andy wraps his arms around Trent, holding him closer. Even though they’re still the same height Trent is not as skinny or gangly as he once was and sometimes Andy forgets he’s still so young. That he has so many years of football ahead of him but still puts so much pressure on himself to be perfect, now, all of the time. Something like this was bound to happen eventually. Their season has been intense and the constant attention from the media, even if they mean well, doesn’t help. Andy knows Trent obsesses over what they say about him, how he’s the Scouser of the team and their hope for the future.
Andy takes a deep breath of his own to prevent his own emotions making an unwanted appearance and runs his hand along Trent’s back. He’s wearing one of the ridiculously cosy hoodies whose sleeves fall over his hands and it always makes Andy want to pull Trent close under the guise of touching the soft fabric. A piece of his hair is tickling Andy’s cheek and he reaches a hand up to brush it away. His breath catches at the way Trent relaxes into his touch. He keeps one hand resting on the back of Trent’s head, his fingers lightly running through his hair and rests the other against his waist. Trent keeps his own against Andy’s back, pressing his face into Andy’s chest and holding their bodies close. They stay quiet for a while and in the back of Andy’s mind he registers that he’s been gone and while and Jordan said he didn’t have too much time but he waits a while longer until Trent’s breathing has calmed down and then he slides his hands down Trent’s arms to hold his wrists so he can push him backwards and look at him.
“You okay now?” Trent cringes away from Andy’s stare. “Hey now Trent, if you can’t tell me, your best fullback friend, how you really feel then who can you tell? Because you know Virgil would launch into an unnecessarily long speech about picking yourself up, and sure Hendo could give you a hug but would it be as good as mine? That’s debatable. And unfortunately Luis, despite trying his best, wouldn’t be able to understand emotional scouse …” Trent laughs, blinks away a few stray tears.
“Is that your way of saying I should thank you for being here?”
“Me needing attention for my actions? Doesn’t sound like me at all.” Andy moves his hand to touch Trent’s cheek, wiping under his eye with his thumb. Trent finally meets his eyes and offers a small smile.
“Thank you. I know I probably don’t say that enough.” Andy shrugs.
“That’s okay, you’ve got your bratty bitch persona to keep up with.” Trent lightly slaps Andy’s arm in retaliation which turns into him wrapping his arms around Andy again, resting his head against Andy’s shoulder. “Seriously though, do you really think the fans won’t turn up today? I don’t think you should underestimate Liverpool fans. And no one blames you. It’s a team game at the end of the day. Plus, if you worry too much you’ll end up starting to go bald like a certain someone …” Trent lets out a sharp laugh, covering his mouth.
“That’s harsh that.” He meets Andy’s eye who shrugs. Trent takes a shuddery breath and looks at himself in the mirror again. Andy drapes himself over his back, resting his head on his shoulder.
“You ready?” Trent nods.
“I guess.” He smiles at his reflection; the smile doesn’t quite look natural but it at least looks better than the sad puppy eyes he was offering before.
“Oh!” Andy fumbles in his pocket and Trent eyes him warily before Andy produces a pair of sunglasses, he opens them and reaches across to slide them onto Trent’s face. “Perfect! No one will be any wiser.” Andy looks so thoroughly pleased with himself and Trent is such an emotional mess than he nearly starts crying again. He’s not sure how he got so lucky to be playing for Liverpool, his childhood club in his city and also to be playing with some of his favourite people (and Andy, of course.)
“Thanks.” Trent reaches out to throw his arms around Andy’s waist and nudges his head against his shoulder. “Be grateful you got two thank yous from me today.”
“I’m honoured.” Trent looks up and meets Andy’s eyes. They pause and there’s a moment where Trent thinks that, despite the fact that he’s literally glued to Andy’s side, he isn’t close enough to him. That Andy is right there. Trent takes a sharp breath as if he’s about to say something before the door bursts open and Trent jumps, pulling himself away from Andy to look around. Jordan looks between the pair over the top of his sunglasses, he’s already sporting his Liverpool cap and scarf and Trent whistles.
“Alright Hendo, I think you need to chill with the hot dad look a little.” Jordan offers his characteristic laugh and Trent smiles, relieved that Jordan seems to be distracted from the scene he walked in on.
“We’d better go.” Andy says.
“Definitely, I came to get you two. We’re late.” As they head up the corridor Andy makes light conversation with Jordan which Trent doesn’t need to participate in. He takes deep breaths and focuses on the hand Andy reaches out to hold his out of sight behind Andy’s back, his thumb running across Trent’s palm.