Sunday, May 3rd 2015

Jack sat in a small booth in an empty pup on George's Street with an untouched cappuccino in front of him. It was two weeks before the marriage referendum, the air in Dublin was alive with a nervous excitement and anticipation. Everywhere he went, Jack saw pamphlets, posters, and people talking about the upcoming vote. He couldn't escape it. The referendum felt like the final stamp on the changes happening around him, and for the first time in a long time, he wanted to be part of it—not just the vote, but the conversation.

Today, he was finally going to do it—tell Begs and Wham Bar. With Mark present, as a buffer, of course. He felt guilty that he hadn't come out to them yet. Maybe it was because they had been friends for so long, and Jack wasn't ready to face the fact that things might change between them. Or maybe it was because he wasn't sure if they'd get it. His family's reaction had been poor, his coming out to Mark was messy, and this felt like it could go either way, even if it was the final piece of the puzzle.

As Jack sat at the small table waiting for his friends, his mind wandered back to the memories that defined their friendship, the ones that made him feel safe even when everything else was falling apart. He was ten, sitting in the back room of their local SuperValu, waiting for their parents to come collect them after getting caught stealing. Wham Bar, always the wild one, got caught on camera robbing. That's when his nickname had been born - the item he chose to stuff into his pockets. The four of them were being shouted at by the manager, spitting as he spoke.

The memories kept coming, flooding Jack's mind as he sat there, the weight of his decision pressing on him. Next, he was twelve, standing in a field with his friends and his old brother Mick just a week before they lost him. They were kicking around a Gaelic football, and Mick was showing them how to solo—something Jack had always struggled with. Mick had been patient, the older brother he'd always looked up to.

'Yeah, that's it. Jacko! Try bending down over the ball a bit more when you solo. That makes it easier.' Mick had laughed, and Jack had felt so proud, even if he could never quite get the hang of it. Mick had always been the one to make things make sense, to make him feel like maybe he could do anything.

Then, at thirteen, he was in Mark's back garden, trying to impress a girl from the Gaeltacht who had been staying with Mark's family for three weeks. Jack couldn't remember her name, but he remembered the way her long, ginger hair cascaded down past her shoulders, how he was totally into her at the time. Funny how that had aged.

'Ar mhaith leat shift?' she'd asked, and Jack had been both excited and nervous, unsure of what to do. He smiled awkwardly, pulling her in for his first kiss—the 'washing machine' routine Mark had told him about, which, at the time, felt like the most natural thing in the world. That night had been awkward, messy, and totally clumsy. But it had been a rite of passage for Jack.

'Thank fuck that's over!' Wham Bar had exclaimed, hours after Jack had spent an hour lying in a gutter vomiting up the three pints of Bulmers he'd downed at the pub. That was his first proper night of drinking, and it had ended in disaster—well, for Jack at least. But for Begs, it had been the night he fingered a girl for the first time outside a chipper in Galway City. As embarrassing as Jack's experience was, it was one of those nights where everything felt like it was shifting into a new chapter.

The stories of their past hung around them like a warm blanket. They had shared so much, each moment building on the last, creating a tapestry of memories that defined their friendship. And now, sitting here, Jack realized that this was the moment he had to let them in on the truth. He had to let them see him fully, the way he had been hiding from everyone else for years.

'Jacko! How are we?' beamed Begs as Mark led him and Wham Bar into the bar and they sat down with him, interrupting his train of thought.

'Story, lad?' added Wham Bar.

'How are we?' Jack said, forcing a smile, but his heart bet fast in his chest.

Wham Bar grinned, nudging Jack with his elbow. 'Good, man. You've been quiet. Spill the beans. What's up with ya?'

Jack caught Mark's eye and took a deep breath, feeling his heart race as the words began to tumble out. 'I've got something to tell you two,' Jack said, forcing himself to look them both in the eye and spoke before his mind stopped him, 'I'm gay.'

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, the pub noise seemed to fade away. Begs blinked, looking at Jack with wide eyes, his eyebrows furrowed in surprise. Wham Bar took a long sip of his drink, then set it down slowly, his gaze fixed on Jack.

'What?' Begs finally said, his voice almost a whisper. 'You? You're... gay?'

Jack nodded.

Wham Bar's face mirrored the shock, but the silence didn't last long. He blinked again, and then his face broke into a smirk, 'I guessed.'

'What? Fuck off, lad! No you didn't!' protested Begs.

'I did!'

'Bullshit,' Mark added while Jack's head moved between the three of them, unable to speak himself.

'Sure I seen the video going around-' Wham Bar began, but Mark elbowed him in the ribs and he caught himself, 'I mean, what?'

Jack couldn't help but smile, although his eyes brimmed with tears.

Wham Bar's grin softened. 'Guess that makes us allies now, huh?'

'Yeah,' he said, cracking a small smile. 'It's... it's been a long time coming.'

Begs leaned back in his chair, eyes still wide, but the grin never left his face. 'Well, I gotta say... didn't see it coming, but it makes sense now. You always seemed... I dunno, different. In a good way. Like, just not... like the rest of us, y'know? I was always wondering why you let Caoimhe go. I mean, she's a fuckin' melt of a thing, but she's some pair of knockers on her.'

'Fuckin' hell Begs,' Mark said, shaking his head but smirking.

'But this doesn't change anything, mate. You're still the same person, like,' Begs added.

'Exactly,' Wham Bar said, clinking his cup of coffee against Jack's. 'You're still one of us. Always have been. I don't give a shit who you want to shag- Oh fuck! Have you shagged a lad?' asked Wham Bar.

Jack nodded.

'What! What the fuck? That's crazy!'

'Wham,' Mark said, giving him another elbow in the ribs.

Jack couldn't help but laugh at their awkward attempts to make light of the situation, and the relief flooded through him. These were the friends who had seen him through everything, and now, nothing had changed. They were still the same.

'Appreciate it, lads,' Jack said, his voice thick with emotion. 'Honestly. I didn't know how to tell you two. It's just... you're the last ones left who didn't know. And I was scared, I guess. I didn't know how you'd react.'

Begs waved his hand dismissively. 'We're not gonna freak out over something like that. You know we've got your back, no matter what, right?'

'Wait, which of us is hotter?' asked Wham Bar.

'What?'

'Oh yeah! Surely I'm better lookin' than these munters?' asked Begs excitedly and Jack smirked.

'Lads, c'mon,' pleaded Mark, also hiding a smile.

'Ye're not my type.'

'What?' they replied in unified disgust and disbelief.

'No offense.'