Page 8 of Pitch Prince

“Let’s get out of here then,” I said.

“Just gotta tell Finn,” he said. “He might be a bit of an animal on the scene but he looks out for me.” Rhys headed over to where Finn was snogging and tapped him on the shoulder. I laughed to myself as Finn pulled away from his supermodel-esque conquest and looked blearily at Rhys.

Rhys gestured over to me and Finn’s eyes went wide. He asked Rhys a question and Rhys shook his head emphatically, laughing. I felt something coil in my stomach. Had Finn thought we were heading home to sleeptogether?

Rhys walked back over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. I felt like I should physically recoil, put up a barrier between the two of us. But I didn’t want him to think I was homophobic.God, this was complicated.

“Ready?” he asked. “Got to let any of your teammates where you’re going?”

“They’ll survive without me,” I said. Most of them were deep in conversation with one another or being distracted by a pretty young woman. If our coach found out about any of these antics he’d be giving the whole team a bollocking. I was doing the right thing giving all this a wide berth.

We wrestled through the crowd and walked out into the cold night air, tinged with smoke from late-night revellers. “What time is it?” I asked, looking down at my watch. I couldn’t see the face in the dark.

“Fancy Rolex not quite as good as a smartwatch, is it?” Rhys showed me the time on his phone. 11pm.

“I’m getting old,” I said.

“Think you’re getting old? I’m younger by almost a decade and I’m still the one who wanted to leave the club early,” Rhys said. “I just can’t be arsed with all that any more.”

“Me neither,” I said. “Not my scene.”

“I didn’t think so somehow. Come on,” Rhys tugged on my arm and I felt that pull in my gut again. What was it? Guilt, shame? Anticipation?

We walked down Cardiff’s famous Queen Street together in silence. Surrounded by side-streets and alleyways that led to Cardiff’s nightlife, Queen Street was a quiet artery though the city but for the drunken singers and cryers, the homeless sat begging in street corners and the steady noise going out of every McDonald’s and Burger King.

“I love this city,” said Rhys. “I grew up here, and I know it’s not perfect, but it’s just…”

“Yeah, I get it,” I replied. Though I didn’t think it was half as beautiful as Edinburgh, where I’d spent my growing years.

We took a left at the end of the street and I realised we were heading back toward the rugby pitch. “Don’t tell me you’re living in the fucking stadium.”

“Close enough,” Rhys chuckled. A couple more alleyways and we were stood outside the block of Victorian buildings just outside the Arms Park.

“You have to be kidding me,” I said as Rhys pulled out a key.

“Never, I just really fucking love rugby.” He opened the door and gestured for me to head in first. “Fourth floor,” he said. The stairwell was dark and I proceeded cautiously up to the fourth floor. Rhys gently pushed me aside and opened up a door at the end of the corridor.

“You know they say you should separate your work and home life,” I said.

“Well whoever they are obviously hasn’t ever played rugby.” Rhys switched lights on in the apartment and it came to life.

It was small, with an open plan living room and kitchen with only one door leading off the apartment.

“Come and take a look,” he said, leading me to curtains on one side of the living room. He opened them dramatically to reveal a pair of patio doors that led onto a balcony…that had a view directly of the same rugby pitch on which we had played a game. The floodlights had dimmed but were still on, and beyond the Arms Park I could see the shadow of that great Colossus. The Millennium Stadium.

“Have you ever played there?” I asked, pointing up to one of its towering spires that gave the stadium such a unique look.

“Only a couple of exhibition matches,” said Rhys. “It was a dream, but…there were like ten thousand people there. I want to play for Wales. I want that whole place at capacity.”

I shivered just at his words. “It’s the best venue in the world,” I said with reverence. “Murrayfield in Edinburgh might be my home ground, but I’ve never been awed or scared like I have in the Millennium. When the roof closes, and the Welsh are singing…you’ll get there one day, kid.”

“Kid?” Rhys snorted. “I appreciate it though, thank you.”

He seemed unable to stifle another yawn then, and I saw in the light that he did have dark circles under his eyes. “Tired?” I asked.

“Knackered. I couldn’t sleep last night thinking of playing again. Imagine if I did get the chance to play for Wales. I wouldn’t sleep for weeks. Right, let’s get you to bed.”

I smiled gratefully as he pulled the sofa out into a bed and disappeared into the other room before coming back with a duvet and pillows. “Bathroom is through my room,” he said, pointing at the door. “So don’t worry about disturbing me in the night if you need to go. I sleep like the dead.”

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