- Okay Ned, you've got 90 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 died 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 16.
- Yes, 16 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 jail?
- 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 jail 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.
Natalie, 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 fucking ledge, I haven't seen you in ages.
- Alright.
- Back to jail and just like prison,
if nobody likes who you really are,
then buddy, you 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 Woodhill 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.
Units, which will mean some reshuffling
in the English department.
In honor 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 17 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'keefe.
- As for this guy, rumor 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 behavior remains in your past, understood?
Follow me.
Get out of that bin Kennedy and seize egregious playing.
- Yes sir, because it's all my fault.
- Apology accepted.
Now coach Pascal O'keefe 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 is this room.
Parents live in Dubai.
- What sort of a boy is Ned?
- Veracious 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, homo and I call rape, 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 fuck yourself, Spainer.
And as for you, you just made weasel's shit 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 regrow their tails?
That's how it was in our school with English teacher.
One dies, another grows in it's place.
No big deal.
- Darren Finnigan.
Did you make that absurd noise?
Age 16, 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 mom,
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 gray shirt stuck to him.
- Go away, thank you.
- Woah.
- 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 Barts last year kicking 19 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 10 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 fucking 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?
Woah, 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 shit 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 defenses 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.
- Don't gock, Mr.
- Conor, training, 10 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 worshiped Pascal.
- Number nine, congratulations.
You have an announcement to make?
- No. - Yeah, you do.
- No.
- You do.
Come on number nine.
Everybody, I just noticed number nine 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.
The hell are you doing breastfeeding the tacklebag?
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 war 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, me 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 realizing 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 shit 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,
what did you play really well?
- Well thanks sir, I actually missed a few kicks
so not my best.
- Oh 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 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 complicated 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 behaviors
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 died...
- 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 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 rumors from your old school
be rumors from your old school.
Yeah, good.
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 Woodhill 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 fuck 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, Woodhill 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?
- Fuck.
- 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 that way inclined
but maybe I'm wrong.
Am I wrong, Conor?
- Go back to the fucking dorm man.
- Yeah, go back to the dorm faggot.
- Tell them, Conor.
- Go back to the fucking 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 shit right here.
- Fuck 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.
- Complusionary 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.
Fucking sing.
Sing.
Sing you little queer.
- 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 apologize 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 eight 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 empathize 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 plagiarizing 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, its 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.
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 11:05.
- We take this type of transgression very seriously.
We'll take the midterm 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'keefe.
- No, I thought I'd come to you first.
- Well tell Mr. O'keefe 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 Victor and 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 fucking 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 fucking rugby Walter?
Some boys don't play rugby.
What about those boys?
- Ned, Ned!
Fuck.
- 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 rumors 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 shit that we're going through you know.
Do you run?
No.
You stay.
You stay and you deal with your shit
by standing in a field, blowing a whistle
in the fucking 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 apologize 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.
- You're mind is shot, right?
You're all over the place, I understand that.
- I wasn't shot.
- 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 fucking shit 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 15.
You hear me?
Do you hear me Victor?
Congratulations Victor, you're off the team now.
You're a pair of fucking 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 fuck'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.