Handsome Devil (2016)

[bunniefuu]

- Okay Ned,
you've got minutes.

Any subject you like,
time starts now.

- We all have one
thing we're ashamed of.

The memory of one
moment so embarrassing

we don't think we'll
ever get over it.

A moment that still wakes
us at four A.M. sweating.

My terrible moment happened
because I was afraid,

I was afraid because I
lost the only true friend

I'd ever known.

People do bad
things out of fear.

For me, the good life ended
when Mum d*ed a few years back.

Suddenly, Dad married Natalie.

They were living in Dubai
and I was in boarding school

in the middle of nowhere.

A school where rugby
was a religion.

Where I was persecuted daily.

I mean, legally you
guys shouldn't be able

to force me to go to school.

Legally I'm basically an adult.

- You're basically an adult
but you're actually like .

- Yes, is your actual age.

Which is why the
idea of us letting

you leave school is absurd.

- So you're pretty much
sending me to gaol?

- Even prisoners make
an effort to fit in.

They do jigsaws together, play
ping pong with each other.

- Could you please
listen to yourself

for the briefest of moments?

- Excuse me?

- Ned, conforming is
part of being a grown up...

and letting you leave school
early would be sending

you to gaol, in a way.

Boys that leave school at
your age doom themselves

to a life of sweeping
up supermarket floors.

- Dad was obsessed with

the guys who swept
supermarket floors.

- And then crime, naturally.

Nat, Adam Quinn's
boy, he was expelled

from school last year, now
apparently, he's a bum in Paris.

- No way, really?

- Yes, reading his poetry
on the Metro for money.

Practically begging,
it's desperately sad.

So just think about that.

- A bum in Paris.

I would've loved that.

But was I bad enough
to get expelled?

This year would tell.

Have my own room, magical.

- Did you just say you
have your own room?

No way, let me see.

Oh.

- Ladies and gentlemen,
my tormenter-in-chief.

- Okay.

Maybe the reason you
have your own room

is so nobody gets
bummed, you know,

in the middle of the night.

- And hello to you too, Weasel.

I trust the summer
treated you well.

- I trust the summer
treated you well.

Oh, you are an utter bender.

- Weasel, you f*cking ledge,
I haven't seen you in ages.

- Alright.

- Back to gaol.
And just like prison,

if nobody likes
who you really are,

then buddy, you'd better
hide yourself away.

Here's an example,
for English essays,

I stole the lyrics
from obscure songs,

the very old Mr Fatrell
would never know.

But it was a private joke.

But nobody else knew the songs

or cared one way or the other.

Everyone at Wood Hill College
was obsessed with rugby.

And I didn't hate
rugby but what happened

if you didn't love it?

Yeah, that sound means gay.

I have no idea why it means that

but believe me,
I heard it a lot.

I should explain.

Gay means crap,
bad, or different

and the fear of being
in any way different

ran through our school
from top to bottom.

- Ask the lady to dance
and then, you know,

you get into a sort of a...
member it's kind of that

but do not do that, okay.

So, any questions?

- There were other
kinds of schools, of course.

Cool, modern-day schools
where anything went.

But not here.

- Today, we're gonna
be looking at...

- talking about sexual identity

to anyone in our school, that
was like staring at the sun.

- Have you any idea?

- It seemed, you
could be whoever you liked

out in the world.

But our school wasn't
a part of the world.

- Firstly, some sad news.

After a short illness
our dear colleague

and friend, Glen
Fatrell, has passed on...

...which will
mean some reshuffling

in the English department.

In honour of our recently
deceased English teacher,

one victorious
student will be chosen

to represent the school in

the National Essay
Writing Competition.

There is a first
prize of five grand...

...as a donation to the school.

Now... rugby.

- Did you ever
meet an adult who wishes

they were a kid again?

That was our headmaster, Walter.

- This school has
won senior cups.

But it has been a long
decade since the last.

We have a fine crop of players.

The entire school needs to
support our fantastic coach,

Mr Pascal O’Keeffe.

- As for this guy, rumour
had it Pascal's wife left him

because he was too
obsessed with rugby.

And that - that's the guy
who changed everything.

- Guys, guys.

- Now young man, before we
show your mother your digs,

I need you to
promise me something,

I'm told you left your old school

for repeated and
persistent fighting?

We're happy to
educate you as long

as that kind of behaviour remains
in your past, understood?

Follow me.

Get out of that bin Kennedy
and cease your egregious playing.

- Yes sir, because
it's all...my...fault.

- Apology accepted.

Now coach Pascal O’Keeffe
is a former pupil.

We've a fantastic crop
of players this year.

Men, Sonny.

Just one more till to the title.

Training starts tomorrow,
do not be late for Pascal.

Nice boy called Ned in this room.

Parents live in Dubai.

- What sort of a boy is Ned?

- Voracious reader.

Well, I'll leave you
to say your farewells.

- Honey I'm sorry your
dad didn't make it.

He wanted to, he was just...

- drunk?

- He's busy, he's
incredibly busy with work,

you know how hard he
works. He's flat-out.

Just a hug.

- Are you okay, miss?

Give me a second.

I can't share with
a guy like him.

- Ned, Ned, Ned.

You know, my time on the
boy scouts as a young man

was rewarding on so many levels.

Beaver whacking, orienteering,

the nautical art of making knots.

And although I may not
be able to remember how

to fashion a round-turn
and two half-hitches,

I will never forget the
lasting bond of friendship

that ensued.

- Sir, the Geneva Convention.

- My decision is final.

Leave.

- Yes, this was a blow but it wasn't

as if the rugby team
would be congregating

in my bedroom.

- We heard you were coming.

Yes, you're younger
than us but Pascal says,

if you're good enough,
you're old enough.

- Look, Conor, this is the
last year for this dream team,

alright, we all
leave in the summer,

I've been captain twice

and I'll never compete
again, unfortunately,

so we have to end
this thing this year.

If I'm being honest
with you, I don't think

the chance is gonna come
around again for this school.

- Training starts tomorrow, six.

Do not be late, do not be
late, seriously, big no-no.

- This is your roommate.

I was really starting
to wonder for a second.

I mean, this is a picture
of two guys wearing

the face off each other, Conor.

I mean, really.

- That's not mine.

- Touch me, h*m* and
I call "r*pe", okay?

- Jesus.

- Weasel, give it a rest.

- Conor, you're gonna have

to seriously consider
moving rooms, okay?

You're gonna get AIDS in here.

We cannot have a
teammate giving us AIDS

in the middle of a scrum.

- Yeah, I'm not
totally sure that's how

the HIV virus is transmitted.

- Go f*ck yourself, Spainer.

And as for you, you just
made Weasel's sh*t list.

- Coming?

- You were wondering
if there's another room

you could sleep in?

But what's wrong with the
room that you already have?

- My roommate.

As a new boy, it
can be, it can be...

- It can be what?

- It's just, you can be...

- Go back to your room, Conor.

Good man.

- The Berlin Wall
was built overnight.

The world woke up
the morning after

and there it was.

Now, I'm no communist
but there's a lot

to be said for
acting decisively.

- Did you know lizards
can re-grow their tails?

That's how it was in our
school with English teachers.

One dies, another
grows in its place.

No big deal.

- Darren Finnigan.

Did you make that absurd noise?

Age , birthday June,
shoe size eight-and-a-half,

fan of Formula One car
racing, allergic to milk

and therefore all dairy, surely.

Father, management consultant;
mother, stay-at-home mum.

Bed-wetter, I'd imagine,
and a coward for sure.

Congratulations Mr Finnigan,
you are today's winner

of the Witless Tool
Competition. Be gone.

Anyone else?

No?

Good.

How did I look at that
stuff about Darren?

I read it.

And I read about each and
every one of you similarly.

There is no limit to what
you can learn from reading.

And with that in mind, I'm
assigning you an essay,

the essay is due on Friday

and the title of the
essay is "A Family Member".

And before you consider how dull

and how asinine the
title of that essay is,

let me tell you that I'm aware
how dull and asinine it is

and I want to own the dullness.

Reveal to me who you are.

If you dare.

In the meantime, we're going
to be reading "Lord of the Flies"

by Golding, a cautionary
tale about giving power

to an impressionable mass of
fragrant and unkempt urchins.

Not that that's every
gonna happen in my class.

Okay, books open
please, page one.

- The boy with fair hair
lowered himself down

the last few feet of
the rock and began

to pick his way
toward the lagoon.

Though he'd taken
off of school sweater

and trailed it
now from one hand,

his grey shirt stuck to him.

- Go away, thank you.

- Whoa.

- Sorry, sir, I thought
you were a pupil.

- No.

What's with the Berlin wall?

- It's a matter of necessity.

- Right, who's your roommate?

- Oh honestly, I don't know.

- Right, well I've
got a delivery for.

No way you can make
him feel welcome, no?

- Yeah, see, he's
a rugby player so,

believe me, my friendship
would be a hindrance.

- That's quite a persecution
complex you got going on there.

- Thank you.

- You gonna let
me hear something?

- Well, I can't play
and even if I could,

I don't think I'd play
anything that you'd like.

- Just play something.

- Okay, so that's D.

- That's D.

- Is D your only...

- D is my only chord, yeah.

- I see, okay well,

lift the finger up to
that one, higher there.

Yep, now play.

Now you know another chord.

See you.

- Sir, I'm really really
sorry, I know I'm late,

it's just, I couldn't
find my boots,

I thought I put them in my bag

and I thought my bag was in
my classroom but I left...

- Conor, relax.

You're new, it happens.

The lads are running drills
out there, get ready,

I'll go out with you.

Get you introduced.

Once you cross that
white line, Conor,

I want you to concentrate
on just one thing.

Express yourself.

Good to go?

- Yeah.

- After you.

Everyone, this is Conor.

Conor won the Junior Cup

at St. Bart's last year, kicking
points in the final, huh?

I asked him up with
the seniors so he sees

what we're made of, give
him something to aspire to.

Also, give Wallace a
bit of competition.

You've met our captain, Victor.

Apart from him, far too
many names to remember

but I'll give you the gist.

Key Chafrey, prop.

Tom Quillin, current
place kicker.

We get our speed from this fellow.

Scrum half one, two.

Chief wrecking ball.

Okay, line out, first
against seconds,

Conor, play a for the first.

Wallace, where's Wally?

- I'm here.

- Defend it.

- Don't worry about it, I got you.

- You're an animal.

Monster.

Wallace, come back in for Conor.

Conor, take a break.

- Take a break.

We've only just begun.

- Okay, reset!

- Is it broken?

- Of course it's f*cking broken.

- Well done lads, yeah, good play.

Don't worry about that, Weasel.

You never were a looker.

Anyone see Conor Masters?

- He never came in.

- Tell me who you are.

I set an essay title for you

because I wanted to
find out about you

and there were some
excellent essays

but there was one that
stood out above all.

Ned wrote.

Do you wanna get up here and
read it in front of the class?

- I'm actually okay, thanks.

I mean, thank you but
I'd just prefer not to.

- I appreciate that.

But I think you should.

The next person to make
a single solitary sound

of any sort is in hideous trouble.

Go ahead, Ned.

- "A Family Member".

I have this cousin
who's name's Kevin

and I'm pretty sure he's
destined for heaven.

He's always spotlessly dressed,

clean and neat and totally smooth.

He likes to wear this
fur-lined sheepskin jacket.

- Keep going, please.

- Kevin, start the same.

My perfect cousin.

He doesn't, he's his
father's pride and joy.

His brother's little gone boy.

He thinks I'm bit of a coward

'cause I universally...

- stop, stop, stop.

Sit down.

Listen to you, the baying crowd.

Behaving like sheep.

Why do you assume that
this lesson isn't for you?

Never, ever, ever
use a borrowed voice.

You're all individual.

Stop, stop!

You spend your whole
life being someone else,

who's gonna be you?

Get out.

- Turn it down?

- No, not that.

Today, that was pretty cool.

I like the song.

- Could you go straight
to hell please?

- I liked it a lot.

Why do you like
so much old stuff?

- Well, because modern life is rubbish.

- I hear that.

- So I saw Weasel's face.

- How'd you know I did that?

- Word gets around, even to me.

- Can I ask you a question?

It's personal.

Are you gay?

- Don't worry Conor, I'm not gonna
bum you in the night or any...

- No, sorry, I'm sorry...

Was that it?

That was your question, was it?

It's not really the
music, it's more the story.

How someone can write
about themselves like that,

about their family,
it's mad isn't it?

- Well yeah, the
madder, the better.

So you're not just
taking the piss?

- I like the song.

- Well follow me then.

- Didn't know this was here.

- Found these last year.

- Vinyl.

Look at those faces,
what were they thinking?

- Well, none of them
ever cared about

the stuff that matters
here, that's for sure.

And I can't wait
to get out of here.

- What are you gonna be?

- I am basically unemployable.

But I'll be free.

- My dad and I used to
sail that before he...

...before he became
interested in other things.

I remember sitting at
the front of the boat,

that felt free, like flying.

- You still got the boat?

- It's still there, I
think, rusting away.

- So what's it like to
punch someone in the face?

- Whoa! Show me that, how
do you know a chord?

- I can like music, you
know, we're not all the same.

- So you on his sh*t list?

- I think you've been
taken off that list.

- I never knew I'd been
lonely until I found a friend.

Not that Conor and I
were peas in a pod.

I mean, I never met someone
who liked to run around

as much as I liked to sit
down and do nothing at all.

My defences were coming down

and I'd never say it out
loud but it felt pretty good.

Weasel had suddenly
stopped bullying me

and I no longer dreamed
of being expelled.

Despite my best
intentions, I began to feel

like I fit in.

Four packs.

- Yep.

What happened?

- I was pocketed.

- Again?

How many times is
that since September?

- Three, no, four.

Yeah, how many have you had?

- I've never been pocketed.

- You've never been pocketed?

- I've never been pocketed.

- That's not right.

Anyway, this is for you.

- What is it?

- Birthday present.

- Really?

- Yeah, well, I wasn't gonna
get you anything obviously

but my wicked step mother
said, seeing as you're

a roommate and all, you
know, probably should.

It's a harmonica.

- Thanks Ned.

- Oh, I have one more
present for you actually.

Yeah.

- You wouldn't dare.

- Wouldn't I, though?

- Ned.

- Have a good birthday.

- Bastard.

- Alas, poor Yorick.

- I knew him, Horatio, a
fellow of infinite jest.

- Mr Sherry began
to work with us as a team.

And we all loved him for it.

Still, when an annual
variety show was announced

at the local girl's school,
no-one stuck their hand up.

But Sherry had heard
us messing around

on those old guitars
and said - no, insisted -

that Conor and I
should play a song.

- Hi fellas, how's it going?

- Extremely bad
- Awful, thanks.

- And why is that?

- Well, we're not these
deadly Spanish guitar players,

we can't do an instrumental.

We have to do a song but neither
of us wanna be the singer.

- I'm definitely not doing it.

- No, me neither.

- And why not the both of you?

- What, like Simon and Garfunkel?

- Yeah, like Simon
and Garfunkel.

- I don't think so.

- Not cool enough for you Ned, now?

- Honestly, no, not really.

- Why, you young man
need to learn about

what is much more
important than cool

and that is...

What is beautiful.

- High low.

- Oh but sir, it's so high.

- So high.

- Conor, training, ten minutes man.

Come on.

- Yes!

- The school rugby team embarked

a long unbeaten win.

The local papers put
it down to my friend,

the new star out-half.

The players worshipped Pascal.

- Number , congratulations.

You have an announcement to make?

- No.
- Yeah, you do.

- No.

- You do.

Come on Number .

Everybody, I just noticed
Number tackling

and it's clear that
he has something else

on his mind so I'm guessing it's

because you and your
boyfriend are engaged

to be married.

What the hell are you doing
breastfeeding the tackle bag?

Hit it.

You afraid to be hit?

Go sign up for the school opera.

I'm sure they're short
a few tavern wenches.

Everyone, gather round.

Time to get serious.

It is the nature of the
school that you hear

a lot of talk about
opening your mind

and the value of a
rounded education.

Bullshit.

We're about to walk
onto a battle field.

And once we do, the
last thing we need

is empathy for our fellow
man, to be feeling things.

Conor is leading us
out and he will have

a target on his back.

So from now on, men,

you're not a team,
it's a w*r zone

and you're in the army.

- Shouldn't you be asleep?

- Shouldn't you?

- I'm not the one playing in
the quarter-final tomorrow.

- That is why I'm not sleeping.

- I can't, my nerves.

- You're gonna win.

- You don't know that.

- I don't know the
first thing about rugby

but I feel it in my bones.

- Are you gonna be there?

- It's not really my team.

This one time, before you came here,

one of your teammates flushed
my head down the toilet.

So that is not going
on my autobiography.

You're better off without me.

I will be rooting for you though.

- Single file, gentlemen, single file.

- Conor, your old
man's out at the bar,

says he wants to
buy us all a drink.

- Watch out, coming through.

Coming through, coming
through, here we are.

Watch yourself boys.

Help yourself.

Have a drink with
your old man, son.

- Fine with water, thanks.

- We can't toast the victory
without a man's drink, huh?

To my son: the athlete.

And to all you fine young men.

Cheers.

- Conor later told
me that if he hadn't had

that first drink, his night
would've ended very differently.

- Your dad is a
complete inspiration.

- Best thing about
watching you play today

was realising that all that
rubbish in the last school

was just rubbish.

That was the real
you today, huh?

I loved you today.

I loved you again.

You felt like my son again.

Not that sh*t from before.

Now come on, jump in and I'll
give you a lift back, huh?

We'll have a chats.

- I'm getting the train.

- Son...

- After walking for hours, I found

a cinema showing a
subtitled film about

a nun, which was long.

I ended up late for the
coaches back to school

and that's when I saw Conor.

The idea was that I
would surprise him.

- Far too young, sorry pal.

- He's my friend.

- He's older than you.

- What kind of bar is this?

- A bar for adults.

- Okay, what kind of adults?

- Gay adults.

- Totally.

Just double checking.

I'm just gonna wait for him,

he'll be out in a second.

I better head.

It's getting late.

All this time, I thought I was
the only one on the outside.

Turns out, I couldn't
have been more wrong.

- Well hello, Conor.

Here on the train.

I nearly missed the bloody train.

So congratulations on today,

I believe you played really well.

- Well thanks, sir, I
actually missed a few kicks,

so not my best.

- Oh you did, oh okay.

I was told you got the quarter.

- Semi, semi-finals.

- No pressure then.
- No.

- I might have a cup
of tea or something.

I like a cup of tea, I mean.

Not much of a coffee drinker

but I like a cup of tea - or a pot,

nice big pot, pot of tea.

Big pot of tea.

- Sir, before, it's not my team.

- No, no, no.

I was bursting for a loo and
it was the nearest bar around.

- Yeah, you know my friend,
my friend there, Conor,

he's very affectionate.

- There's no signs out front.

- Yes, very poorly signed.

He's an Italian, you know,
he's all over, you know.

Oh Jesus.

Conor, I think a certain
degree of discretion.

- I'm never gonna say anything, sir.

- About anything.

- Ever.
- Ever.

Okay, good.

Okay.

Right.

I might get a cup of tea,
do you want a cup of tea?

Do you want one?
- Yeah.

- Okay.

Okay.

- Okay, have
you learned your part?

- I have.

- There's no avoiding
this any longer so,

let's just go for it, okay.

One, two, three...

- sorry, Conor, before we start.

- What?

- Just, um...

Nothing, nothing.

- You sure?

- Yeah.

- One, two, three, four.

You made me do it by myself.

- I just...
- Teamwork, Ned.

- Yeah.

- You ready?

One, two, three, four.

I thought we agreed
that you would go high

and I would go low.

- We did.

- I thought you said
you learned your part.

- I did, I have, I mean
I have learned my part

it's just,

all I can hear in my
head is your voice.

And you know, it makes
me wanna follow you.

- Well don't.

Sing your own part or I can
go high and you can go low.

- No, I can be high.

- Okay then, be high.

- Okay.

- One, two, three, four.

Think that was alright.

- Yeah.

- Stop, stop, stop, stop.

Conor, sport, kicking,

takes a quiet mind,

you need to have nothing
going on in there.

Okay?

So what's eating you?

- Sir,

sometimes I just feel like a robot.

Doing this again and again.

Maybe there's a little
more to life than.

- You have a rare gift.

And you need to use it.

And recently I've noticed
you hanging around

with different people. That's fine,

I suppose, whatever.

But here's the thing son,

you lie down with
dogs, you get fleas.

Have you identified the fleas?

Don't complicate this, son.

There's you and that and those.

Now come on.

For fucks sake.

- Good morning Pascal.

- Walter.

Question?

Have you run a background
check on Dan Sherry?

- And why would I do that?

- Sherry's not married, is he?

- What are you asking?

- I don't know what I'm asking

only I'm sure you notice
that Conor Masters' level

is dropping, he misses
a number of kicks

in the match yesterday and
then very late last night,

I encounter him sauntering
back to school... drunk

in the company of a
certain Dan Sherry.

I want you to... Walter,
I'm concerned.

- Did you not take the boys
for a celebratory glass

of beer last night?

- Yes but that was just...
- But nothing.

If you don't know what
you're asking, Pascal,

be careful what you're insinuating.

- Walter, I need your support.

Everything hinges on this.

We, the team, we need it.

- Dan Sherry is a
teacher in this school

just like you and I.

This is the team.

- Sherry is like me?

Nah, I don't think so.

Listen, forget it, it's fine.

I just wanted to put my
concerns on the record in case,

that's all.

- In case of what?

- Boys Conor's age are
highly impressionable.

You know this.

Certain types of people
as teachers around kids,

once you know for certain
that those certain types

of people are those
certain types of people,

I mean, I would consider
myself a Christian

and a liberal but...

- but?

- But those certain
aforementioned types of people,

those certain types of behaviours

are seriously not cool.

Not cool near children.

You know this.

- Thank you Pascal.

- I mean, you have
to know that Walter.

- Thank you Pascal.

- Thank you Walter.

- Okay, this is a
lesson in projection.

What?

In projection, yes.

Yes, move back.

Keep going, keep going,
keep going, keep going,

stop, stop, stop, stop.

Okay, when you sing tomorrow,

you can't whimper like some
weird little field mice.

Okay, you've got to project.

Reveal to me who
you are if you dare.

Let your voices
bounce off the walls.

Alright, begin.

- I can't hear you.

At all.

What?

Louder!

Yes, louder.

Louder, louder, come one!

- Better.

- I just have to
do more, you know,

flexibility, conditioning.

- That's your out-half there.

Any idea why Conor
left his old school?

- No.

- You have a cousin at
St. Barts, don't you?

- Well, he's actually
a second cousin.

But actually, I was
meant to go there myself

but when my dad d*ed...

- he's letting all our
hard work go to waste.

I wouldn't be happen about that

if I was on his team.

Matter of fact, I'd be raging.

- Knock, knock.

Ah, there's Conor.

Hey, can I ask you something?

- Yeah.

- Yeah, why are you hanging
out with that freak Ned?

- That freak Ned is my mate.

- Your mate how?

- He's my roommate Weasel.

- Oh, okay, got you.

- Everything okay up there?

- Everything's really good, Conor.

Just, I have a cousin in St. Barts.

Well, second cousin.

But I know everyone says
you left your old school

because... I don't know, you
were fighting all the time.

But I was talking to
him and I was wondering,

what was the reason, you know,

for all this fighting?

Why the fighting, you know?

- What do you want, Weasel?

- Conor, I promised my father,

on his death bed, that
I would do everything

in my power to win that Cup.

I'm not the only one that's noticing

you're spending a lot of time

with the wrong kind of people.

What we're gonna do is,

you're gonna pick your
company a little bit better.

You're gonna focus on the semi-final.

And we'll let the rumours
from your old school

be rumours from your old school.

Yeah, good.

Good chat.

Good chat.

- When I woke up on
the day of the talent show,

and there was no sign of Conor.

I wasn't that surprised.

If you play for the rugby team,

you're up early for training.

- You look up,
eyes up everybody.

- You get to skip
all sorts of classes.

Especially when it
gets to the semi-final.

You're carrying the
hopes of the school

on your shoulders.

Is an education more
important than that?

But I was worried by six P.M.

- He's not coming, okay.

- Sir, I can't do it alone.

- You can, you can do it.

- So give it up for Clinton.

- He's a genius.

- He's not, he's not a genius.

How is he doing that?

All you need to
do is go out there

and let them hear your voice.

That's all, that's all
you need to do, okay?

- From two current
Wood Hill College students.

- Hey good luck, don't
be nervous, you're fine.

- One of us, actually.

Turns out there's
only one of us.

- Oh Jesus.

- Hey there Pascal.

Can I have a word?

- It's a free country.

- So you must be pretty
excited...quarter-finals.

- Semi-finals.
- Semi-finals.

That's exciting, yeah.

- It's no time for complacency.

- No, no, no, quite.

So listen, Conor, he
didn't show up to sing

at the variety show.

- He had kicking practice.

- Oh, you knew about it?

- Well in semi-final week our
out-half had more important

things on his mind.

- Sure it wasn't you who had
other things on his mind?

- I consider you something of

a Trojan horse, Sherry.

- Not sure where this is going, Pas.

- Encouraging Conor
Masters to be a singer

one week before the
semi-final of the Senior Cup?

- Come on, I'm trying to help him.

- You can have the weird
ones with the dyed hair

and the banjos.

I've got f*ck all use of them.

No interest.

I say this to you the once,

you'd do well to let the
boy focus on his rugby.

You get me?

- Got apple in your beard.

- Meanwhile, the school rugby,

for out-half Conor Masters.

Inspiration with the ball at hand,

troubled off the kicking team.

Despite two penalty misses,
Wood Hill College progresses

to their first senior
final in over a decade.

- Everyone who's ever been young,

so that's everyone ever,

knows just what
humiliation feels like.

But worse than the embarrassment

was Conor's vanishing act.

He had disappeared from my life.

And I can't believe
I'm about to say this

but I missed him.

We were friends.

I wasn't gonna give
that up without a fight.

- Halt, who goes there?

Oh, can I help you?

- I was looking for Conor.

So I can say "Well
done". Is he in there?

- Oh um, nope, he's
actually not in there.

I'm really sorry.

- Maybe I'll just check.

- Yeah well, maybe
instead of checking,

you just piss off. Does
that sound like a plan?

I'm not gonna tell you
again to piss off, okay?

- f*ck.

- Uh uh uh, no.

- Hey Ned, Ned, leave it.

Come on man, just
leave him be, will you?

- Thank you, I wanna go
see my friend, Conor.

- He is not your 'friend',
he's your roommate.

He had no choice but
to hang out with you.

Do you get it?

Conor, this little, I
don't know, vol appears

to be very much in love with you.

Now, I told him, you're
not that way inclined,

but maybe I'm wrong.

Am I wrong, Conor?

- Go back to the
f*cking dorm, man.

- Yeah, go back to the dorm, f*gg*t.

- Tell them, Conor.

- Go back to the
f*cking dorm, man.

- Tell them.

I only meant for Conor
to tell his teammates

that we were friends,
but looking back,

maybe he thought I
knew more than that.

Tell them.

- I'm warning you.

- Conor, this is some
sh*t right here.

- f*ck off, Weasel.

- See you later then.

- "Those masterful
images because complete,

grew in pure mind,
but out of what began?

A mound of refuse or the
sweepings of a street,

old kettles, old bottles,
and a broken can,

old iron, old bones, old
rags, that raving slut

who keeps the till.

Now that my ladder's gone,

I must lie down where
all the ladders start

in the foul rag and bone shop."

Come in.

Go on then.

- Everyone up.

Follow us.

- Complusory cheerleading
at the head of the Final.

Pretty much the last place
on Earth I wanted to be.

- Lyrically these
songs left a little

to be desired but on this day,

lyrics weren't the problem.

It was what was behind them.

This wasn't my team.

Maybe the idea of
getting expelled

began to surface once again.

Honestly, I don't remember.

- Sing.

f*cking sing.

Sing.

Sing you little q*eer.

- They wanted me to sing?

I'd sing like a canary.

I had this big piece of
news that I could share

and what was I keeping it for?

There was nothing wrong
with being different,

I knew that and why did
Conor get to be adored

and me bullied when
we were both the same?

Oh I'd tell them,
I'd tell everyone.

Then they'd apologise
and everyone would be

on my side for once.

Finally, Neddie had the conch.

I'll tell you who's gay.

Oh I'll tell you
who's gay alright.

Conor Masters is gay.

There it is, folks.

That terrible memory.

- Your parents are flying
home from Dubai tonight.

They'll be here first
thing in the morning.

Ned, I'm aware you
haven't had it easy

in this school, but
grabbing a megaphone,

disrupting match preparations.

It crosses a line.

- Am I expelled?

- You'll sleep in the
infirmary tonight.

We'll meet tomorrow
morning at a.m.

I expected so much
more from you Ned.

I expected compassion.

Towards a boy who was new,

towards a boy who was
always going to feel

a little different
from the rest of you.

You of all people I thought
could empathise with that.

Go on, leave.

- It's funny how it goes, isn't it?

Now that I'd seemed to
have achieved my goal

of getting expelled,
there was nothing

I wanted more than
to go back to being

a pupil in this school.

- Hey Conor.

- Can I talk to you?

- Yeah, yeah, course you can.

Although I can't let
you in here, sorry.

Stupid regulations.

Come on, we'll go for a walk.

So, big day tomorrow Conor.

It's the first final
in, how long is it?

- Yeah, I can't do.

- It's just nerves,
you're a great player

with a great team, you're fine.

- It's got nothing to do with it.

Sir, I saw you with your friend.

You were together.

- So you saw me with a
friend, Conor, so what?

Look, I know it's hard.

I know.

But it gets better, trust me.

- When I'm older.

- Yeah, when you're older.

Sad fact of life.

- So, I'm just supposed to keep lying?

- It's not a lie.

It's not necessarily lying

if you keep something to yourself.

- But if you pretend to
be something you're not

then that's a lie.

Sir, I remember the lesson with Ned,

I remember when you called him out

for plagiarising that song.

"Don't use a borrowed
voice", you said.

"Find your own voice,
don't be a sheep."

Sir, you said that lesson
wasn't just for Ned,

you said it was for all of us.

So why am I exempt?
Why am I different

from everyone else?

- Can't be all things
to all men, Conor,

at all times, it’s not smart.

- Why not?

- Sometimes you need to
keep things hidden away

to protect yourself.

There will come a
point in the future

when you won't have
to lie anymore.

Trust me.

- Will there?

- Yeah.

- And did you hit that point?

- This isn't about me.

It gets better.

It gets better.

That's all I can say to you.

Please believe me, Conor.

- How on earth can I even
begin to believe you?

- Oh Conor,

Conor.

- Jesus Christ, Conor, it's : .

- We take this type of
transgression very seriously.

We'll take the
mid-term to consider.

But punishment will be severe.

- I appreciate all
of that, thank you.

Tell me though, what
happened to my son's face?

- Well we can't get an
answer on that, I'm afraid.

Ned?

- Nothing happened.

- Something happened.

- This is nobody's fault but my own.

- More than anything,
this is about preserving

the ethos of the school.

- Sir, sorry.

- Wait outside, Victor.

- I can't sir.

Conor's gone missing.

He didn't stay in his bed last night.

He's gone.

- Well have you told Pascal?
I mean, Mr O’Keeffe.

- No, I thought I'd
come to you first.

- Well tell Mr O’Keeffe I wanna
see him here immediately.

Go on.

- Yes sir.

- Sir, Mr Curly wants to see you.

- Victor, I thought
you were supposed

to be with Conor.

Where's Conor?

- Sir, there was an
incident yesterday.

Conor, he's gone missing.

- What do you mean
missing, Victor?

- Walter wants to
see you, sir, now.

- Walter wants to see me?

Of course this has
to happen today.

Thank you Victor.

- Hey Pascal, good luck today.

You okay?

- Is your delight Sherry?

Over the f*cking moon, yeah?

- What?

- Conor Masters, huh?

Missing on the day of the final.

- Missing?
- Missing, yes.

What part of 'missing'
don't you understand?

- When we get back, can I
please jump out in town?

I really need to do something?

- You must be kidding.

- Look Dad, I know I'm in trouble

but I wouldn't ask if it
wasn't absolutely vital.

- Not only are you
not jumping out, Ned,

you are massively,
unbelievably grounded

until we can figure out
what to do with you.

- Dan.

I suppose you heard
about Conor Masters.

- Yeah.

- His parents don't
know where he is.

Well, I've notified
the coach anyways, so.

And we have an untested
player in out-half.

I mean, Wallace is a pest.

- Oh who cares about the
f*cking rugby Walter?

Some boys don't play rugby.

What about those boys?

- Ned, Ned!

f*ck.

- Conor was always running.

I couldn't understand it.

But now I finally got it.

You have to know that you're
running in the right direction.

- Men.

You might be wondering
where our out-half is.

Earlier, as you know, I was
called to Mr Curly's office

and informed that the boy
had some kind of breakdown

and has gone missing.

Today of all days, I know.

I don't know if you're aware
of the rumours swirling around.

But it transpires that
he was dealing with,

serious personal issues.

But he's missing today,
and I wanna tell you this,

we are way better off without him.

I mean, we all have personal issues

but look around you,
anyone who can't be trusted

to put those issues to one
side can't be part of a team.

We all have sh*t that we're
going through you know.

Do you run?

No.

You stay.

You stay and you deal with your sh*t

by standing in a field,
blowing a whistle

in the f*cking rain.

- Let's go warriors, let's go.

Let's go warriors, let's go.

- Hello?

Can I come in?

- What do you want?

- I want to apologise for
being a terrible friend.

- So you knew about me all along?

- I'm so sorry Conor.

I want you to play.

There's still time.

- You said that that
wasn't your team.

You've never even
seen us play before.

- Look, I was wrong.

Okay, turns out I was wrong
about pretty much everything.

- Not everything.

- You don't have to
pick a side, Conor.

You don't have to be
one thing or the other.

You can be everything.

- I'm not sure I can play for them.

For Weasel, for the coach.

- It's for them.

You're not playing for them.

You're playing for us.

It's my team if
you're playing on it.

Reveal to them who you are.

If you dare.

- If you dare.

Our team, yeah?

- Conor.

What can we do for you?

- Late again, sorry about that lads.

- Your mind is sh*t, right?

You're all over the
place, I understand that.

- I wasn't sh*t.

- Well at this point, Conor,

we all heard about the thing.

- The "thing"?

- The thing.

- The thing?

- The thing, the thing, the thing!

Look, it's not your fault

but you cannot fit into this team.

- Since when?

- Since, look, you're incompatible.

- Incompatible according to who?

- Us.

According to all of
us, is that right lads?

- I don't know if you heard
why I left my old school.

- Yeah, we heard you
got in some fights.

- I don't know if you
heard why I was fighting.

I was fighting everyone
who found out who I was.

Every last one of them.

But they kept coming

and I couldn't stop them coming

and I couldn't fight them all.

I couldn't stay and keep
denying it so I ran away.

To our school.

Thing is lads,

I'd like to stop
running away, you know.

I'm done with that.

Thanks to Ned here,
you all know who I am.

I'm the same me
that I always was

and I really really wanna
be a part of this team.

I'm here and I'm ready to play

so if you want me on your side.

- Wallace has been filling in

and doing a perfectly good job.

- Come on Pascal.

- No I haven't, Pascal.

- Believe in yourself, boy.

- I believe I'm f*cking
sh*t at out-half.

I'm weak and you know it.

- Come on Pascal, just
put Wallace on the wing.

- Well that's a pity Victor

because Wallace has just
put himself on the bench.

There is one coach on this team.

One voice, not fifteen.

You hear me?

Do you hear me Victor?

Congratulations Victor,
you're off the team now.

You're a pair of f*cking tools.

Lads, I'm sorry but
this lad has ruined

your hard work for the year.

Anyone else walks off to that side

and they're gone too.

I'll forfeit the game if I have to!

I can do that.

That's enough, I said!

You hear me?

Ah, for f*ck's sake.

- We all have that one
thing we're ashamed of.

The memory of one
moment so embarrassing,

we don't know if we'll
ever be able to forget it.

A single moment when not only do

we betray everyone around us

but we betrayed ourselves too

in the most terrible way.

Yes we all have that moment.

But the pain of remembering
the embarrassment begins

to fade eventually with
the help of a good friend.

I will never forget that game

for as long as I live.

Conor was everywhere,
everyone noticed him,

the determination
to shut people up,

to prove them wrong.

What he was feeling
spread throughout

the team like a fever.

People talked about
it for months after.

- Conor's playing?

- Yeah, your Ned found him.

- Well he's a good kid, Ned.

Walter, this is Arthur.

- Hello Arthur, Walter.

- Arthur's me fella.

We're a bit of an item.

- Like I said, I don't
think I'll ever be able

to get over the embarrassment
and the shame of what I did.

But in a way, some good
did come out of it.

That year, everyone in school
learned the same lesson.

Not to speak in a borrowed voice.

- You know, one single year before,

I'd have given
everything I owned

for that kick to be missed.

But people change.