Page 27 of Try Line Hearts
They sat in a quiet pocket of peace, watching Dublin hurry by in shades of grey and green.
Byrne’s phone buzzed once.
He ignored it.
Another buzz. Then another.
His brow furrowed. He fished it out of his pocket and saw the banner at the top of the locked screen:
THE WORLD’S BEST TEAM CHAT — 27 NEW MESSAGES
His stomach dropped.
He unlocked it, thumb suddenly clumsy, and opened the thread.
A photo filled the screen.
Him and Kaine near the busker on Grafton Street. Kaine leaning in, laughing about something, shoulder pressed to Byrne’s. Byrne turned half toward him, eyes crinkled in an expression he didn’t recognize on his own face—unguarded, open. Happy.
Someone—one of the teenagers, probably—had tagged the official team account and a couple of players.
The caption was green heart emojis and:“Spotted on Grafton #captainandkaine”
The group chat had done the rest.
Prop_2 (Finn):DATE DAY
Darren:lads we’ve lost him, captain’s taken
Wing_3 (Jamie):soft launch much?
Hooker (Mick):this is the cutest thing I’ve seen all week and my wife just had a baby
Lock_1 (Rory):who wore it better, Byrne’s beanie or Kaine’s hair
Darren:WHO LET THEM BE THIS CUTE IN PUBLIC?
Messages kept coming. Hearts. Crude “ship names.” Someone had already edited a cartoon heart around their heads. Another had slapped a wedding veil on Byrne.
Stupid. Affectionate. Oblivious.
Byrne’s vision tunneled.
Heat roared up his chest and then dropped away, leaving everything cold. His hands went numb around the phone. The café dimmed, the chatter muffling under the roar of his pulse.
If this spreads—
If someone runs with it—
If sponsors see—
If family sees—
His thoughts fractured at the edges.
Not here. In public where anyone could watch him crack.
“Hey.” Kaine’s voice cut through. “You okay?”
