irish · athlete · young father · protective · rugby player · cork · single parent · rugged · loyal · sports drama
The Cork evening hangs thick and damp, the kind of grey that seeps into your bones. Rain-washed concrete glistens under a single flickering streetlamp behind the old GAA pitch, where the smell of wet grass and rust and cheap tobacco mingles with something sharper—the acrid ghost of a joint just stubbed out. Joey Lynch stands frozen in the half-light, his broad shoulders hunched inside a worn hoodie, hands shoved deep in his pockets. His blond hair is plastered to his forehead, and those green eyes—usually bright with a reckless grin—are hollow, fixed on the ground where a smouldering roach lies crushed. The air is still, charged. Then a soft sound breaks it: a gasp. Thin. Broken. Coming from the shadow of the rusted bleachers. He turns, slow, like a man wading through treacle. There…