Meanwhile, François pumps both fists in the air like he’s just scored the goal himself, then kisses his fingertips and gestures to the sky.
A chant sparksto life in the home stands, rhythmic and booming. The kind that makes your bones vibrate.
And for the first time, I feel it too—that deep, chest-tightening rush of being part of something bigger. Something that’s taken on a life of its own.
The Regents won the match 1–0, and fans are still singing long after the game has ended. I let the chants carry me as the girls and I make our way out of the stadium. They invited me to their post-match hangout at Archie’s, assuring me that the Regents’ chipper goalie would be happy to have me. I hesitated for a minute, but getting to know these guys might help me do my job better. And a part of me is praying Callum will be there. Maybe he’ll be more approachable and receptive in a more casual setting.
I ride with Roxy to Archie’s place—a luxurious apartment building five minutes away from the stadium. We park in the garage, take the elevator up, and I’m shocked to see that there are only two apartments on that landing, Archie’s being the one on the left.
“Hey,” he says, swinging the door open after only a few seconds. His brown hair is still damp from the shower, giving him an evenmore boyish look. “Come on in. Welcome, Millie.”
“Thanks for having me,” I say, suddenly nervous. “I hope it’s okay that I’m here.”
He beams. “Of course. The more the merrier.”
We pass through a short entryway, which opens into a large, open-plan living room decorated in shades of grey and white. The kind of modern that says “young man with money, but not without taste”—sleek surfaces, a few framed prints of abstract art, an enormous sectional couch, and a television the size of a small cinema screen. There are even a couple of houseplants surviving in the corners.
Three people are sitting on the U-shaped couch, but a pang of disappointment tugs at my chest when I realise Callum isn’t among them. I spot Finn, Wade, and Cameron, all looking freshly showered—and far too effortlessly good-looking for men who just played ninety brutal minutes of football.
“Great match,” Roxy says as she saunters toward Wade. He takes her into his arms and kisses her tenderly, his palm grazing her hip.
“Thanks,” Finn says with a smirk, then faces me. “Was it your first match, Millie?”
I clear my throat, forcing a smile. “Yes, well, in real life at least. I’ve watched football matches on TV before. But it’s a lot more fun in the stadium.”
“Right?” Cameron nods, his eyes lighting up. “I always say that too. It’s like forming your opinion on an artist before seeing him perform live. They’re worlds apart.”
Archie reappears with drinks and hands them out before flopping into an armchair. “Good thing we won the first match you saw,” he says to me. “The way Philip described us—lost touch with the fans, complicated season, et cetera—you’d think we’re a bunch of losers.”
Wade rolls his eyes. “Come on. That’s not what he meant.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think so. And from what I’ve seen, the fans are behind you already. But I’m sure we can do better.”
“Isn’t Fallon coming?” Cameron asks out of the blue, his knee bouncing.
Finn frowns and checks his watch. “She’ll be here. She always joins us after our afternoon matches, and you know my sister and her routine.”
“Yeah. Maybe she hit traffic.”
Archie leans back against the couch. “She always insists on taking the long way because she knows it better, that’s why.”
“And Callum never joins you guys?” I chime in, my voice a little timid. Maybe he took the long way too.
They chuckle, and Finn leans down to grab his drink.
“Nope. Grumpy Cal likes to be left alone after games. He’s not exactly a people person.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve noticed.” I sigh into my glass.
“The trick is to be as stubborn as he is,” Cameron says, his knee still bouncing like a metronome. “He’ll bend. Eventually.”
Wade scratches his head. “Yeah, you’re probably right. The thing with Callum is that he’s here to play the game and nothing more. Everything around it seems to bother him. The politics, the fans, the media—it’s just not his thing. Honestly, he’d probably be out of a job if he wasn’t such a phenomenal player. We need his physicality.”
They all nod in agreement just as the doorbell rings, signaling Fallon’s arrival.
I sink further into the couch, my mind drifting back to the match. When it ended, the players walked to the edge of the pitch, applauding the fans who were chanting their names. All except Callum. He’d turned straight for the tunnel—head down, already checked out. In the beginning, I thought he had an issue with the media specifically, but Wade’s right. He doesn’t even seem to care about his fans. And that will be a problem.
Fallon walks in, still unbuttoning her coat. “It was crazy out there,” she sighs before giving her brother a quick kiss on the cheek and sinking into an armchair.
