not lost .

"Yeah, I'm not surprised it attracts idiots," he says with a laugh. Kayin's played football for a decade, now; he's seen and dealt with some stupid refs. "But your secret's safe with me, nobody'll hear it from my lips," he promises, taking a sip of his own drink. The feeling of her hand on his forearm is a sweet one, but he keeps his eyes on her face instead of letting his gaze dip down to where they're touching. "Oh - yeah, course, no worries," he dismisses her concerns with a shake of his head. He gets it, he's played babysitter for his sisters more times than he can count. "D'you want me to walk you back? In a normal way, I mean, not in a weird way."

" in a normal way? what does that entail? " she glances at her watch and sips her drink, feeling ... well, normal. it was oftentimes she found herself being brushed off the minute she brought up something like babysitters and children - maybe it was the litmus test for men that were actually worth her time. " i'd like that, yeah. make sure i'm all safe, fight off any bad guys.. " she mulls it over and wraps her fingers around his wrist gently, warming her cool fingertips against his pulsepoint, " do i get a kiss at the end, or - ? "

"Think ten might be pushing it a little, babe," he says with a soft laugh, pushing some of his hair back from his face. Big talk from someone who's one of seven, he knows, but seven is still less than ten. Ideally, he'd have somewhere around five or six, but it's not like he'd be the one carrying the kids, so it wouldn't really be up to him in the end. "Why would they love Sheffield?" he asks, genuinely unsure of why that would ever happen. But then again, he supposes, he doubts people ever thought their kids would love Richmond, and then along came Jamie Tartt to change everything. "I mean, I guess it's their choice to support who they support, but they'd grow up like I did, going to Hammers games, singing Bubbles... supporting another club never even crossed my mind after my childhood."

" you think? ten seems perfectly normal to m --" but her resolve fades and noa finds her face scrunching with soft giggles at her own absurdity. a family of twelve living in london? imagine getting on the tube for anything - not that that would happen often as ducky's career progressed; her mother still laments at how fil's career took off and suddenly she was barely able to hop on the train to go and do shopping on oxford street. shifting against him, she smiles, " honestly, it was the first club i could think of that wasn't like.. great. " sighing, she thinks about herself and his family stood in a box with the growing callum robinson brood, all in their little hammers kits. it makes her beam; though she was raised an arsenal girl, she'd fallen in love with west ham when her brother moved there and at this point can't picture her shoving arsenal kits onto their little ones. they'd be their very own little bubbles, " when i was little, just to be a bit antagonistic, i think.. i would stand w'mum and eva an' jon sometimes and scream and shout for the side playing against my dad. i had a new club every week. it.. got me in a little bit of trouble, i am sure you can imagine. but ours.. yeah, they'll be irons, right? get'em on the pitch after you take'em to trophies. that's what i imagine. "

Callum nods... he guesses they can be that way. He never really thought about what it must be like to be the posh lad in a working class club. He knows Mannion changed the culture at West Ham, but it's returned to the club he grew up supporting since that season, hasn't it. "No, no, go ahead," he gestures. "I'll shut up, won't 'ave a bubble or start a barney or anything." He mimics zipping his mouth shut, folding his hands between his spread legs afterwards, still trying to be kind. He can play nice if Joss can, too.

" dunno.. " joss kicks the leg of a bench and huffs a deep sigh, thinking a second, " doesn't matter, does it? you've made your fuckin' mind up, that fuckin' skipper's made his mind up. and we all know how tight you two are. " head shakes as he bends his left knee, trying, trying to not let his frustrations get the better of him -- he'd made a promise to his sister to keep his head down until the transfer window, to not let word of his attitude get to chelsea or to any other team that might have him. briefly, he wonders if fulham would want him back, their prodigal son. " not all of us can put up this fuckin, " he gestures to ducky languidly, " nice guy front. "

When she offers him the ice cream, he has to shake his head. "It'll make me sluggish," he says, regret clear in his tone. "Maybe I can have a spoonful of honey, though, like I'm takin' medicine I didn't want t'take as a kid." Jamie grins. Sweetness always buttered him up. He'd do just about anything if there was a promise of something sweet afterwards. "And, after the match, we can have proper sundaes. Cherries and all."

" you know, when i were a kid. before i figured out how t'get my own legitimate tickets or owt, me an' my pals, louise and helen an' her big brother harry, we used to sneak in, proper like a movie an' all that. we'd squish up in the stands and pretend like we were meant t'be there an' nobody batted an eye. it were dead naughty of us, but now it makes me laugh -- imagine tryin' that now! they'd'ave me nicked, wouldn't they! "

"I didn't realise not doing your job right as a referee could get you booked...!" Kayin says with a laugh. "I thought it would just be, like, a conversation that you'd have with him." He smiles at her giggle, taking a sip of his drink. "It's not stupid, it's the rules...! Gotta sub in Jorginho, not Fábio Vieira, Vieira's already on the pitch-!" He thinks he's very funny. "And if he's a wanker, he definitely deserved it." Kayin doesn't know the referee in question, but he'll take her word for it. She tends to be a good judge of character, in Kayin's experience.

her head lifts and she laughs at his joke, her head bowing forward a little instinctively, but she stops herself from doing something potentially embarrassing and instead takes a swig of her drink, nodding thoughtfully, " so many stupid people in that job, swear to god but just - " the apples of her cheeks turn pink with her cheeky smile, " don't say i said so. " her free hand rests on his forearm, taking a deep breath, " i .. don't want to ruin this but i have to head home soon. my babysitter won't be best pleased if i leave her longer than needed. " she was always so shy to bring up esther; a lot of people wrote her off immediately knowing she had a child with an unknown footballer ( well, she knows who he is ).

Callum's got one hand tangled in Noa's curls, the other resting on Edward laying beside him. He really oughtn't be as upset as he is about Jon leaving the club. It's just that... he really admires Jon, and he figured that if anyone could end their career with West Ham, it'd be Jon, and now he's been proven wrong. Callum wants to be a one-club man, like Kayin Ayoade is, like Mark Noble had been. He wants to end his career with the Hammers. He doesn't need Champions League play, he just wants his claret and blue. When Noa says his name, his eyes move from the movie that he isn't really paying attention to down to her face to show he's listening. "I mean. Yeah, yeah, I really do," he answers the question with no other questions about it. It's a normal conversation for people in a relationship to have. "I want kids, and I want my kids t'ave a support system like the one I 'ad while I was growin' up."

her eyes, big and blue, flutter open and focus in on him, a smile toying at her lips as she finds comfort in it -- she never minded having these conversations, but this one had weight and. they were so young; her, barely graduated, him still on the young lions.. but in the same light, they had time to get this all in line, best to start the discussions now rather than later on. she knows he's upset about jon and truth be told, she is too because it felt more like home than the emirates ever had done for her personally. " ah, yeah. me too, y'know. used to want like ten but, " she giggles at her past self's naivete, " i've seen the light. " her fingers drift to touch edward's soft fur, smiling as he lets out a deep sigh, " what'd you do if they weren't hammers, though? if they grew up and thought they loved sheffield? psg? "

"Y'are, yeah," Jamie confirms with a nod. He's heard from Jon that JWM is a proper cunt in the dressing room, but he'll try to give the kid some leeway - Jamie was a proper cunt in the dressing room, too, while he was on loan. And, if Jamie remembers right, Wallace-Mount is the same age now that Jamie had been while he was on loan. Kids who are still young enough to play for the Young Lions have room to grow. "I'd hope you'd stay badge loyal, we're in this mad career that could end at any minute, I don't know how you feel, 'course, bt it's important t'me t'be loyal t'the club that wants me. Without 'em, I might just be some man playin' in a Sunday league with some sorta shit day job." He gives the kid a smile of his own, hoping it'll ease some of the nerves that Jamie can now recognise as fandom. "Nobody's Mazur. There's a reason he's our Ballon d'Or, ain't there?" Jamie'll happily lather praise unto Jon any day of the week... especially if it'll make Jon's time in the dressing room easier.

" yeah guess so, yeah. " though mazur is no tartt in his eyes. jamie tartt was the epitome of football to him. fuckin' marvellous at the game, fit, gets women falling over him and face slapped all over the internet. he wants that. that level of fame. one day they'd make sick documentaries about jamie tartt and then a few years later, the same would happen for joss. just watch this space. he runs his tongue over his lips and straightens up a little more under jamie's smile, " yeah, well. i wasn't sure if i'd like west ham much after my uncle left it, " understatement, " the guys there are mostly pricks, all self righteous and shit, but.. yeah, it's the place for me. top assist giver of the prem, that's what they've been sayin'. wouldn't get that title nowhere else, would i? "

Oh, fuck. Jamie sees Wallace-Mount shrink. It's only then that Jamie remembers that he's like a hero to some of these kids, pricks as they may be. When Jamie was on loan, and Roy was casually cruel to him, it felt like being stabbed in the gut [ or like being talked down to by his father after a match that he thought he'd performed well in ]. It hurt. He really needs to fix this. "Erm, sorry, I- I didn't mean t'laugh at you. It's just funny t'me 'cause I know Pep, and I forgot not everybody knows 'im the way I do." He quickly tries to smooth things over, clapping a hand onto Wallace-Mount's shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. "No, yeah, I were being a cunt, and that's my bad, seriously. Didn't mean it." He then waves a hand in dismissal; it's forgotten. No harm, no foul, in Jamie's book. "I really think you're underestimating Ayoade, though. He's no O'Gara, but he's a fucking legend for centre backs."

he's genuinely surprised when jamie's tone shifts -- when it's evident that thought joss was a wind up, he's being easily forgiven his sins. blinking a couple of times as jamie tartt squeezes his shoulder, the posh twat has to remember himself, " that might be, but i'm a hammer, aren't i? " he tries a wry smile, " gotta stay badge loyal, don't i? " which he wasn't often in the changing room, but outside of it he had a reputation to keep up. and jamie was so loyal to richmond, he saw it every match the guy played, maybe he should start emulating some of that.. standing a little taller, josiah smiles lightly, still so hesitant, " i guess he's alright. no mazur. "

The feeling of her head against his shoulder is warm, comforting. It's a pleasant weight, one he finds he doesn't want to be rid of, so Kayin holds still, allowing her to keep her head there for as long as she desires. "I mean, yeah, we held 'em to 1-0 that night, so... I'd say the results were worth the risk." When their drinks are handed to them, Kayin thanks the bartender, raising his to his lips. He almost snorts up his gin with a laugh. "You - what? Why?"

" well, because .. because he wasn't doing his job right. " she chuckles softly, glad he hasn't shaken her from her place on his shoulder. funny. after she'd gotten pregnant with esther, she'd sworn she would never look at another footballer again let alone date one but here she is enjoying his company enough to relax wholly. sitting up with her shoulders shaking with a giggle, " oh it's stupid, but it's the rules right? he put the wrong numbers on his board - put a 21 instead of a 20 and.. it's small, but it's important, right? plus -- now listen, i didn't tell you it, but he's a riiiiight wanker. deserved it. "

That makes Callum pause. His lips twist up a little bit, returning to his seat in front of his locker. "Right. Sorry. Erm. Go on, then. If you really were tryin' t'chat with me, maybe try not starting out all high and mighty and you've got no clue what it's like t'be me, Edward fucking Cullen." That's Callum's attempt at a lighthearted jab. He gives the other man a little smile to show he means no harm.

he waits for callum to sit back down before taking a breath, blinking at the little smile - alright, then. he takes a seat himself, " i just.. i'm trying to make this all work for everyone, but you lot do this fuckin' thing where you gang up and it just.. it winds me up. makes me think about.. ugh, forget it, you're gonna take the piss again. "

"He's a defenceman, mate, he's not gonna be some fucking goalscoring legend, if he can keep it out of our goal and get it back up the pitch for the attackers, he's doin' his job." Jamie's not a Kayin Ayoade man in the way that Jon is, but he can see what Jon sees in Kayin's play. "Who'd you 'ave on that sheet to replace 'im, then?" Jamie thinks Isaac deserves his call, but Maguire'll be booted from the list before Ayoade will - or so Jamie hopes. Walker wants to retire from international play sooner rather than later, so maybe Isaac'll get that spot. He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips when Wallace-Mount says there's nothing wrong with his attitude, as if to ask you seriously believe that? Jamie could list at least a half dozen things he's heard about this kid in the past year alone that might keep him off of Southgate's list, no matter how good he is at the game. Plus the added bonus of having that Mannion connection; that story might need to die down a little bit more before Wallace-Mount's ever considered for the Three Lions. He genuinely barks a laugh at the suggestion that Pep would ever take over the England team. "That's not fucking happening, you'd find Kent going for it before you'd find Guardiola." If Pep were to coach a national team, Jamie knows where he'd go if his heart had a say - Catalonia. But, until Catalonia can compete in UEFA competition, Pep won't be taking that job. He's probably happy with City, his treble winners, those boys he's bringing up there. "Pep for England..." he tries not to laugh again - fails.

his laughter shrinks something in joss - the part of him that doesn't put on this prick front just to show off and make himself seem bigger than he is. jamie tartt was a personal hero of his and he'd made him laugh at him. that stung, tugs at something in the pit of his stomach as he shrugs a shoulder, " it was a fuckin' joke. " he mutters, looking away the same way he would when his dad and uncle would tease him for being proud of his junior call up. it was hardly the actual england team. his features twist into a scowl and his chin lifts indignantly, " who fucking know who'd replace him, it was just a stupid thought, no need to be such a.. " he bites his tongue and shakes his head, " i don't know. "

He gives a shallow little laugh at her comparison to sports days when he was a kid. She'd always shown up for them, always cheered him on, pushed him to be better in the way a parent should push their kid. She never shouted at him for not being perfect, never shoved him around. She just followed as best she could, cheering his name. "Ice cream'd be nice..." he murmurs, looking up at her with a little smile. The chefs on campus make some of the best food Jamie's ever had, but nothing quite compares to ice cream with his mum. "Two scoops? With some honey...?"

" i know, baby. " she does know, " and if you want me there, i'll buy my own ticket and i'll be there. i don't need no fancy seats, nothin'. " georgie huffs a gentle sigh, trying not to think about that toerag's nasty mouth - she'd heard it herself all those times in the stands, hasn't she? " i can drown him out easy, just you see if i can't! ha! " her lips brush his forehead, smiling sweetly, " shall we have that ice cream now, baby? a good luck treat. won't tell no one. "

"Literally the second the final whistle blows on Sunday, you'll be my teammate again," Kayin points out. They'd both gotten their calls up for England duty; Kayin's not surprised by that. AB was easily one of the best keepers in football, let alone the Prem; he's going to keep getting calls as long as he keeps making saves, until he tells Southgate [ or whoever the gaffer may be at the time ] that he's retiring from international play. All that Kayin can do, though, is hope that he doesn't get pulled from a match so fucking Maguire can go in his place instead - again. "It's only right for me to have your back, even right now. No matter who's around." He nudges AB's arm with his own. Kayin cares deeply for the other man; he feels honoured that he gets to play with him despite their separate club allegiances. "You think I can't?" he asks, grinning. "I think I'm fucking terrifying, when I want to be."

Taron looks over at him, his brow furrowing slightly. It's strange to hear those words out of Joss' mouth; Joss has always been the image of self-confidence, to him. "Losing your– mate. If you're losing your mojo, you wouldn't have the whole fucking country calling Southgate a wanker for refusing you your call up, would you?" Taron had seen the Tweets, the comments - why no JWM? Southgate has watched West Ham matches, it's fucking evident given Mazur's continued presence on the England team sheet, but Joss hasn't been given the flowers he deserves. He deserves a legacy number and a cap at the very least. "Is it West Ham, or...?"

sighing, he rubs his hands into his eye sockets and heaves a deep sigh, " fucking twats. i even said sorry to'em for being a dick but they're all fucking.. circle jerking.. it's a pisstake. "

Kissing her back, Callum holds her close to him, moving towards the bed so that he can set her down. He's not supposed to overwork his muscles between now and training starting back up at Rush Green, so he probably shouldn't hold her for too long. "I missed you, too," he murmurs, his hand coming up to tangle in her curls gently. They'd lost their second game of the weekend, but it was of no matter; he's still on a high from the 9-0 result of the first match. "I'm all yours, yeah..." he kisses her once more as Edward, a usually quiet dog, starts to whine. "Okay..." Callum groans playfully, going to sit on the floor so he can pet his dog. "How'd your shows go?" he asks as Edward climbs into his lap.

she settles her feet on the bed and beams as he puts his hand in her hair, sighing at the feeling of it; she'd missed that, sleeping in his sheets was a sort of comfort, with his poster and his dog. noa slowly sinks to the mattress, laying on her stomach so she could be beside him, " yeah, alright! had that guy come back to the stage door to see me.. little bit weird, but he was alright after i spoke to him a little bit. he's seen the show thirteen times now. " she laughs a little bit, reaching her fingers to wiggle them toward edward, beaming as he dithers between her and callum, but pulls them back and rolls back to let them have some cuddling time, " nine nil, babe. that's ... now i know you didn't score them all, but nine nil! how'd that feel? "