- Morning. - Excellent.
Thanks, Paul. Looking good, by the way.
- Lost some weight? - Cut out sugar.
Well, it's working.
Wrong room.
As you were.
Hi. I'm sorry to bother you.
You couldn't just give us a minute, could you?
Of course.
Hi, Patrick.
Oh! Thank God you're here.
The lads, they were having a laugh.
- It's time to go. - Yeah, of course. Great.
I wasn't...
I thought it was a normal bar.
You're getting married in 11 hours.
Yeah.
Wicked.
Outside in five?
I might need a bit of a hand with the...
Okay, ladies.
I don't need to remind you that today is a huge day for us.
Footballers' weddings are the Mogadishu of the PR calendar.
The perfect fucking storm of brainless overpaid wankers
given the night off from running around kicking things.
They will fight, they will drink,
they will try to put their penises into everything.
Next time it will be a glass.
Remember, footballers are pack animals who stay in pairs.
Alongside them will be the usual array of chair fillers
who would attend the opening of a fridge
if they thought it would get them name-checked by Perez Hilton.
It's down to us to ensure that things run smoothly,
that our clients get the inches for the right reasons,
and we avoid deaths, rapes and legal suits.
We control the agenda.
This means everyone on point, no hangovers, no menstruating,
no substance which might impair your professional judgement.
You can Speedball your tiny tits off
if it makes you better at your job.
But if it affects your work,
and thus, my work,
then when you get home, you shall find me hiding under your bed
with a garden hose and a length of razor wire.
Tonight, you will earn your fucking money.
We are the guardians of the galaxy.
Don't fuck it up.
Go.
Subtitles by explosiveskull
Okay, make sure you've got your clothes for tonight
as there'll be none of this "going home to change" bollocks.
Sexy, not slutty or you will get touched.
Hard copies of the guest list, seating plans,
I want faces in full view of the cameras,
in order of importance.
How do I know who's more important?
Rate them on a slidey scale from royals and Olympians
to Made in Chelseas and the exes of Cheryl Tweedy Cole Fernandez.
Oh, and the Olympians who've won medals and Winter Olympics don't count.
Unless, of course, they're super hot
in which case they get a by.
Got it.
All phones should be taken on entry, no exceptions.
Plus, any recording devices,
iPads, GoPros, fucking Etch A Sketches,
metal detector, full frisk,
rubber-glove-and-Vaseline treatment, if necessary.
It's only gonna take one Instagram to blow the HELLO! deal.
Last celebrity wedding I went to,
I ended up doing shots of Frangelico
in a hot tub with the Pussycat Dolls.
The redhead, who looks like a sex robot from the future,
decided to show off her standing splits.
Kicked Claudia Winkleman in the face.
Chipped tooth, she had to have it veneered.
I'm sure there's a moral there somewhere.
Is Sam coming tonight?
Yes, he is.
He's been a Chelsea supporter since he was a kid.
Fun.
No, really. Tom will be there, too.
So, it will be like a play date.
- So, you two are... - Well, I'm in love with him so...
I know, annoying isn't it?
That shit always gets in the way of a good relationship.
Thank you so much. Bye.
Balls.
- What? - Stormzy's just pulled out.
That's like the fifth one this morning.
- What are our numbers at? - Eleven, that's including three Sky Sports news presenters.
Sky Sports hotties or Sky Sports hairy old men?
One hottie, two hairy old men.
Balls.
What's our quota?
HELLO! want 15 with at least six A's.
Melody, make some calls, round up some more people.
But the wedding's in four hours.
Why are you still talking to us then?
What if I can't find anyone?
Then find yourself a new job.
Oh, you have to get paid to call it a job.
Oh, punchy. I like it.
Has anyone ever told you
you look skinnier when you stand up for yourself?
Anyone who has something to promote
and wants a free dinner.
Tell them that you made some phone calls
and you managed to buy them an invite
to the wedding of the decade.
God, look at this place.
It's like Patrick Bateman went on Queer Eye.
- Speaking of which... - Robyn.
Yes. Right, fellas.
This is Robyn, my PR,
that's Eve, and that's Melody.
You guys all right to contribute, like a chat, yeah?
That is sweet.
Thank you for last night.
If it's all right, can we not discuss this in front of...
Patrick, relax.
Okay, great. Um...
Has anyone got any coke?
- It's 10:10. - I've got some.
Eve, go check on the bridesmaids.
Fine. Come on, Bilbo.
- You excited? - Yeah.
Have you seen the pagoda in the garden?
The decorators are getting swans and shit out there.
- It's gonna be sick. - I'm sure it is. How's Bianca?
I don't know.
Do you reckon a baby-blue suit would look good
or is that a bit... gay?
I think it will be perfect.
Do you remember everything we discussed?
HELLO! is going to be here until 5:00 pm.
So, until that moment there is absolutely no more booze,
no drugs, no bad behavior,
no Twitter, no Insta. You are Prince Charming.
And then once all the press clears out
and we've done a sweep to make sure
there's no cameras or recording devices,
we can go back to being the Prince of Darkness.
Got it?
You've got the speech we wrote for you?
- Mmm-hmm. - And the rings are all in place?
It's a big photo moment, Patrick,
so don't fuck it up.
Yes, all good.
Listen, I need you to meet someone. Gary?
Yo.
Indecent images were allegedly found
on the hard drive...
Gary, this is Robyn,
who I told you about.
She can fix anything, bro, I swear.
I said you'd be able to help him out.
I'll do what I can.
- Okay, look, you'll keep this to yourself, yeah? - 'Course.
So, um, I've been suffering with my crew shit on and off for ages, right?
I spoke to my specialist last week
and he says it gets real bad, like.
Says I've maybe got like six months left in my playing career
but after that I'm shot.
I'm not really sure how I can help you with that.
Look, I'm 27, I ain't planned for this.
I thought I had another 4 years.
I need money. I'm broke.
You're a footballer. How much do you earn a week?
Only about 36 grand but it's all gone now.
You know, living costs.
But I made some bad investments.
I bought all these fucking resources
and I owe the tax man a lot of money.
I mean a lot.
Taxes are hard to understand, man. it's fucking crazy.
Gary, what is it exactly that you want me to do?
Look, I've seen how much Patrick's
getting for this wedding, right?
I don't mind, like, wearing whatever,
or doing whatever or who I go out with...
Look, Gary, it's not that easy.
It takes a lot of time and investment...
I'll do whatever you tell me.
Please.
Well, we could get you a pop star girlfriend,
send you to a few parties,
but there's almost nothing
that's gonna make you famous overnight.
This is a little bit loose, there.
Yeah, oh, yeah.
It's complete now.
It's really nice.
- No fucking way. - You said you'd do anything.
Yeah, I know but you can't expect me to do that.
Why not?
'Cause I got a reputation.
Maybe your reputation can pay off the tax man.
Ah, come on! There must be another way!
In the time frame you're proposing, no.
That's why she's a genius.
Someone's gonna do it.
This is your chance to get in first.
Listen to me. If managed correctly,
the first openly gay Premiership football player
is gonna make millions. Fact.
Think about the coverage, think about the exposure.
Look at Tom Daley and he falls in a pool for a living.
It's monumental. You're gonna be a role model,
a game-changer.
We're talking endorsements, ambassador roles,
new year's honors, chat shows.
You're gonna be inspiring millions with your bravery and strength,
to stand up in the face of adversity,
be true to yourself.
To stick it to the haters.
You'll make a difference.
But I'm not gay!
So? The Premiership's riddled with gay footballers
pretending to be straight. What's the difference?
No, but what about all the shit I'll get from the stands?
Sticks and stones, babe. Suck it up.
So you have to listen to 40,000 neander-wankers
screaming that you take it up the arse for six months.
It'll be character-building.
You'll be the one laughing when they give you the captaincy
on A Question of Sport.
Look, we've got a truckload of press
showing up in four hours
Opportunities like this don't come along every day.
Are you in or not?
What do you think?
I don't know, you know. I mean...
Obviously, I'm straight, so...
it's hard for me to, like...
All I'm saying is that they know their shit.
No, but, like...
But would I have to do any, like, gay stuff?
You do a few sweaty shoots for Attitude
and then tell the world's press
that you want to keep your private life private.
And just sit back and start counting your pink pounds.
What's it gonna be?
I better call me dad.
Yes, I'm pretty sure there's a vegan option,
but I could check.
Gluten! Oh, okay, yep.
Look, um, I promise you I will find you something to eat
even if I have to go into the forest and forage it myself.
Please.
Okay, yes, yes. Get back to me.
Okay, I'm nearly there.
Um, I'm lacking in quality, so I've had to plump for quantity.
So far, not including footballers, I have got four soap stars,
three sports presenters,
five reality TVs, two celebrity chefs,
a boxer, two paralympians, one egghead,
two sexy bastards, Dani Dyer,
and a partridge in a pear tree.
Great. We need a beard.
A what?
Sorry, not a beard. A reverse beard.
What's the opposite of a beard?
A shave?
What are we talking about?
Melody, this is Gary.
We need a gay man to pretend to be his boyfriend
so that Gary can pretend to be gay.
Now you've lost me.
Ooh, what about him from Coronation Street? He's gay.
He's actually straight.
He just plays gay. I think it's going to be too confusing.
Can it not be someone too gay?
You know, uh, what about that, that rugby dude?
Okay, so you need a gay man to be the boyfriend of a straight man
so that he can convince the world that he's not straight?
Exactly.
We need the male equivalent of Taylor Swift.
But not too famous to overshadow Gary.
But famous enough that they're willing to spend six months of their lives
pretending to go out with a straight footballer
just to get their picture in the papers.
Oh, no, I think I have the guy: Jay Burns.
He starred on this reality show called Holiday Reprobates,
and then he had a brief appearance on, like, Britain's Got Talent,
X Factor, Hollywood Front Dating
and a fleeting appearance on This Morning where he had this live colonoscopy on air
with Dr. Chris. He's calm as Christmas, and he would literally beat his own mother
to death with a claw hammer if he thought it would get him on the telly.
- He sounds perfect. - Really?
Okay. Get him on the phone. Get him here ASAP.
Eve, you start working on the press release, and get Gary a Grindr account.
You. Let's go break the news to your teammates.
Ooh, can I come?
What? Now?
Gary, you're here. You're queer. Get used to it.
You're what?
Yeah.
I'm like a... proper gay.
Shit, man. I shared a bath with you.
We all have.
This is so fucked up.
Okay, guys. I understand that this is gonna come as a bit of a shock,
but what Gary's done today takes a lot of balls,
and I'm sure he'd appreciate it if you all just got behind him.
Bad choice of words.
My point being, you need to support him.
Don't you think so, Patrick?
Um...
Yeah, I mean...
As a straight man,
obviously, it's not something I can personally understand,
but, you know, you're still our friend and everything, so...
Thanks, mate.
Okay, look.
I appreciate it must take a lot of nerve to come out
and say this to us.
It's just gonna take some time to get used to, isn't it?
Yeah, I know.
You never like, um, when we are getting changed and that?
No, of course not!
You're not my type.
What is your type?
I don't know, um...
That rugby dude.
Do you have a boyfriend, or...?
- Yeah. A guy called Joel. - Jay.
Jay.
I guess, uh... Now you say it, it sort of makes sense.
What?
You know, sometimes you can be a bit, eh...
Okay, right. This has been hugely inspiring
seeing how supportive you've all been.
Well done.
What about Samantha?
Who?
His girlfriend.
Excuse me for just a second.
Samantha's on the market!
You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend.
You never asked.
Well, how long have you been together?
Couple of years.
- Oh, fuck's sake. - Look...
She'll be cool, man. Serious.
Who do you think spends all my money for me?
Okay. It's fine.
We'll just have to say that Samantha was your beard
to cover up your relationship with your new reverse beard, Jay.
And Jay will have to cover up for your and Samantha's relationship.
So as far as anyone else is concerned,
she's now your hag, and you're her GBF.
Got it?
Okay, well... This has been a good talk.
I'm sure we all feel much better,
and get dressed, 'cause the guests will be arriving soon.
Robyn? Jay's here.
Hiya.
I need you to look after something for me.
What?
Eve... Are these drugs?
Oh, relax. I'll be handing them out like canapes later.
Why are you giving them to me?
Oh, just, you know...
Tom's off it, so I just don't want him to have to find it in my bag.
It's no big deal.
- Oh, my God. So cute. - Stop it.
You really like him, don't you?
Just take the fucking cocaine, okay?
If you mention this to anyone,
I will stab you in your sleep.
Absolutely.
Christ, imagine if a bomb went off.
We'd knock out the men online for a week.
All right?
You've got that Tess Daly dead-behind-the-eyes thing going on.
It's fine. I'm...
We all good?
Well, Bianca looks like a toilet paper doll
from the '70s, which I believe is the desired look.
HELLO! are "very happy with the turnout."
Press are all in place, and I've prepped them
for an extra announcement after all the photos are done.
If you were a real woman, I'd make you my wife.
Don't make promises you can't keep.
I take it that's Samantha?
Will you deal with that, please?
We don't need a hysterical spanner in the works.
On it like a nun in a cucumber field.
Status update?
I'm scared to say that I think we're good to go.
I just heard the news about Calvin.
Did you know that was happening?
Do you think it would have happened if I didn't?
The wolves are ever-circling, dear.
Just need to know when to throw them the meat.
The company has withdrawn its services from Mr. Cooper.
We're shocked and appalled to hear the allegations.
And, prior to the emergence of these recent claims,
we were unaware of any impropriety involving Calvin Cooper.
Had we known,
we would never have represented him.
It's about integrity.
Right?
Karma's a witty bitch.
Thank God for anonymous tipsters.
He yours? Hmm.
Be careful bringing him into this world.
It's terrifying for them...
Seeing the real you.
You look fit.
- Is this all right? - Great.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
I was going for "virgin at school disco".
I'm thinking more "day in juvenile court".
Oh, edgy. Yeah, I think I'll go with that.
You know, I've actually not worn this suit since my Nan's funeral,
and, in fact, yep, here it is. Order of Service.
Oh, that's not creepy at all.
This is a bit posh, innit?
Yeah. See, I knew I shoulda kept up with the football.
This could have been us.
Though, obviously, if I was a footballer,
I'd probably be going out with that blonde one
from Little Mix, and not you.
Oh, my God. That's Manuel Lanzini.
Isn't he a little short to be a footballer?
No, all the best footballers were short.
Maradona, Messi, Chicharito, "The Little Pea"...
Who the hell is "Chicharito, The Little Pea"?
Don't say that.
Robyn!
Hey.
Wow.
You look amazing.
Aww, thank you.
Um, Tom, this is, uh...
My boyfriend Sam.
- Uh, Sam, this is Eve's boyfriend, Tom. - Oh.
Uh, good to... Uh, Sam, nice to meet you, Sam.
Good to meet you, too. Yeah, I didn't know Eve had a boyfriend.
I told you that.
It's very early days.
We should probably grab our seats.
Oh, speak of the devil.
And she will appear. How you doing, gorgeous?
I'm good.
Ah, so you went for a blue suit, then?
Which is good, because I do actually still have some accounts that need doing.
Yeah, what's that? Fifteen seconds?
That must be a new record.
So, you two have met, then?
Tom used to be a ballet dancer,
and I know what you're thinking,
but he's actually straight.
Show 'em first position, babe.
Second?
That's pretty impressive, right?
All sorted with Samantha?
Sweet as a peach.
For some reason, when I explained how much money he'd make,
it seemed to calm her right down.
That's Gary Lowen.
Babe...
He's talking to me.
Shall we?
- Good to meet you, mate. - You too.
I wanna come out.
Excuse me?
All that stuff you said to him,
you know, about being strong,
and true to yourself, making a difference, I want that.
You're getting married in 23 minutes.
I don't love her!
- So? - So,
what happened to inspiring millions with your bravery?
- I was talking to him, not you. - Yeah.
Look, back off, man. You got your own shit going on. I need this.
- So do I! - Too late. I was here first.
You decided, like, three hours ago.
Three hours before you.
It's not a competition, bruv!
I'm coming out, okay?
You're not even gay.
Neither are you.
You're not.
Shit.
Jesus. I've shared a bath with you!
Oh, for fuck's sake. That's it. Nobody is coming out.
I can't listen to this shit anymore.
Come out, stay in, get married, don't get married,
marry each other. I don't care.
It's all fucking meaningless.
We're sacks of meat collecting shiny things
to make us better than other sacks of meat.
That's it.
What else do you want? Happiness?
Well, here's some insight for you.
The only happiness that exists in this world
is the happiness you assume everyone else is having.
So, will you please, for once in your pampered, emotionally-stunted lives,
make a decision so I can tell the press to piss off,
and we can all have a fucking drink?
We are gathered here today
to celebrate the union of this woman, Bianca,
and this man, Patrick.
Marriage is the formal joining of two lives,
and with that, two bodies of people.
If any person present knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage,
they should declare it now.
Oh, he's... He's gonna go.
He's going.
- You all right? - Yeah.
Just got a lot to balance.
I need to make sure it all goes smooth.
Did, um...
Did Ruth get back to you yet?
She will, babe, just give her time.
I know this is a load of old gob, but still...
Warms the cockles, eh?
I mean, if we just look at it like it's one big party...
What?
Just saying, if we were ever so inclined,
I think we could do an amazing wedding.
I now pronounce you man and wife.
You may kiss the bride.
Bianca, put your hand up on his chest.
No, Patrick, down.
Now, just sort of relax a bit more into it.
Just like time to enjoy the rest of your lives together.
Football was my escape, my identity.
Football hid my secret, gave me more joy than I could have ever imagined.
But the time has come to tell the world the truth
that I am a homosexual.
Gary Lowen, gay.
Unbelievable. Did you know this?
I'd heard rumors.
Yeah, well, good for him.
Takes a lot of bollocks, that.
I mean, it shouldn't even be a big deal
considering we're living in 2019,
I mean, we know how to clone dogs,
but I guess some things progress faster than others.
There's a bad joke in it, something about Chelsea being tied out the back,
but I'm above that.
Isn't that Jeff Stelling?
- Babe, sorry, one second. - Yeah.
- This is gonna be huge, you know that? - Mmm-hmm.
Going to need you in the office first thing to remit.
Bright-tailed and bushy-eyed.
Security will get the last of the press out the door, do a final sweep,
check there are no photographers hiding behind potted plants, et cetera,
and from then onwards, we're a media black hole.
Thank Christ for that.
Be good.
Oh, excuse me.
You couldn't, uh, bring over a bottle of vodka and some lime tonic, could you?
Thanks.
You did great.
It was a great response out there.
I think there's gonna be a huge pick-up with the press tomorrow.
You should feel good.
You're gonna make a lot of money.
Great. It's great.
Oh!
Sorry.
Oh.
Uh, why don't you go get yourself a drink
and I will get this cleared up.
Okay.
Perfect.
Sick on your shoes?
It's not even dark outside.
Sign of a good night.
Huh.
Are you enjoying your first footballer's wedding?
- Honestly? - Why not?
I am hating every single second of it.
Why?
It's just weird being here sober.
I mean, I'd normally have to do a lot of drugs to get through something like this.
Brings up a lot of stuff. I could just feel my hand...
Hovering over the "fuck it" button.
- What? - The "fuck it" button.
That thing in your head when every part of your conscious mind
knows something is a really awful idea,
but this one tiny little destructive part,
it just goes, "Fuck it."
Hits the button, game over.
Yep. I've got one of those.
Your vodka, madam.
I'm gonna get myself... Another orange juice.
Hi, you've reached Craig. Leave a message after the beep.
That's not a beep.
- Melody. - Hi.
Walk with me.
It's the IT boy, right?
How'd you know that?
Melody,
why do you think I get to sit in the big glass office
and shout at you all the whole time?
I know things about people.
It's my job.
Hold it between your fingers, darling.
You're not a shepherd with a dog whistle.
You're not upset because you want him back,
you're upset because you feel guilty
about choosing this.
Well, don't.
You're young, you're smart. You could actually be good at this.
But there's a choice.
What's the choice?
This job is a cuckoo's egg.
It gets dropped in your nest, with all the other eggs,
and, at first, it seems manageable,
but once it hatches the cuckoo chick
grows faster than all the others.
It demands more food, more attention, it begs louder.
Its beak is always open,
screeching at you to bring it more worms and bugs and insects for it to eat.
Until finally,
all the other chicks have either been pushed out the nest,
or they've died of starvation.
So, make the choice.
If you don't want it, then kick out the egg
before it hatches. But if you do,
then embrace the cold, hard, brutal ambition in your belly.
Don't be ashamed of it.
Celebrate it.
Do you really think I could be good?
Sorry.
I thought I already said that, or did I stutter?
Just so we're clear, you get one pep talk from me,
and that was it.
This is the nicest I will ever speak to you.
So,
drink it in.
Fuck it.
I think you need to keep an eye on your boyfriend.
If he's not careful, he could become the victim of an aggressive Brummie.
It's a drag having him up in these things.
It's like having your little brother at your 21st.
Oh, come on. I think it's sweet.
He's like a boy with cancer who's won a competition.
I'm not. Going straight tonight.
Stop it. You're freaking me out.
Oh, I just thought because of Tom's whole...
Being boring thing.
You're gonna make me kill myself.
Please have a drink.
Okay, fine.
But strictly because your life is in danger. Okay?
This is mental, right?
Patrick's about to show me his table tennis room.
Just make sure that's all he shows you.
- Huh? - Nothing.
Have fun. Play nice.
Yes, Mum.
Thank you for having a brilliant job.
What a day!
What's it feel like to have someone who likes you that much?
There you are.
You're allowed to hang out with me yet, or do I have to continue
standing alone in the corner, talking to strangers,
pretending I know about football?
Um, no, we are officially clear.
From now on, if I avoid you it's purely personal, not professional.
Anzo's here!
Anzo is here.
- Who's that? - Anzo.
He's a professional party starter.
- A what? - He makes sure
that people are having enough fun, drinks, drugs.
Are there enough beautiful people around? Is the music right?
Give it 20 minutes, and everyone will be loaded,
half-naked and dancing or fingering each other in the garden.
So which of the bridesmaids do you most want to bang?
I don't wanna bang any of them.
Oh, don't be so boring, come on.
Play. I'll tell you which of the ushers
I wanted to fuck.
I'm not really in the mood, to be honest.
The redhead?
She looks like she's filth.
Don't you think, Rob?
The kind of girl that takes you home
and makes you squat on the coffee table.
- Or... Or... - Eve!
Or, the tubby one at the end.
Not the most attractive, granted,
but, you know, she put the work in.
She put in like a fat kid with a lollipop.
Why don't we talk about something else?
Oh, don't get all,
hashtag, ThisIsWhatAFeministLooksLike.
Fine. The blond.
- The blond with big tits? - Mm-hmm.
How dull.
I thought you're more original than that.
Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you.
Well, you can take a boy out of Essex,
but you can't change his taste for a basic bitch.
For Christ's sake, Eve!
Stop it!
I know you think it's spiky,
and sexy, and... French.
But it's not, okay?
It is tedious.
I'm not gonna get bored of you, okay,
just because we don't have an argument
every two minutes.
I like you.
Please, I'm trying to like you.
Please stop making this hard.
One, five and three.
What?
Those are the ushers that I wanted to fuck.
In that order.
Why is everyone so serious the whole time?
Can you deal with that?
Tom!
Jesus, this is stupid.
I know she's winding me up,
I just can't...
She knows how to get under my skin.
Of course, she does. We're evil geniuses.
I'm awful to Sam. I mean, really awful.
And I love him genuinely with my whole heart.
But, sometimes,
all I wanna do is just...
Hurt him, profoundly.
- Why? - Christ knows.
Maybe because his presence
makes me feel like a horrible bitch.
And that's not because he's doing anything wrong.
In fact, it's because he's not doing anything wrong.
And he just lets me get away with all this shit.
I'm a monster.
And sometimes I just wish
he would fucking stop me.
Just scream at me,
or leave me, or punch me in the face.
Just anything to stop me.
We're fucked, aren't we?
Robyn, you having a good night?
You've seen that cake with the cheese?
I don't even like cheese, but it looks amazing.
Had it first. Now it's gone, yeah.
Look, um, I just wanted to speak to you.
I just wanted to say thank you.
You know, not because I'm drunk or anything.
But, just, I wanted to say thank you
for looking aft... Out for me, and that.
And I spoke to Caroline
she was super nice, super scary.
But, look, I know you don't always get things right.
But that's gonna change, because I'm with you 100%.
So, whatever you need, whenever you need it.
Okay? Just tell me.
'Cause I'm gonna feed the bird, and I'm gonna celebrate it.
Is that cocaine?
Yes, yes, yes, it's a little bit.
It's Eve's.
Oh, God. I'm so sorry.
It's okay. But maybe, I'll just look after it.
Yes, because you're really cool.
- Thank you, totally. - Oh, okay.
I really appreciate that, Robyn, thank you.
I'm gonna get a drink.
Wow.
Jesus Christ.
There it is.
Oh, easy. It's strong.
- You okay? - Fuck.
Tom?
Fuck's sake!
Fuck!
Fuck it.
Three fucking years.
I'm so sorry.
Ah, Christ, Robyn.
I knew
you were trouble
the moment I first saw you.
Well, that was weird.
Patrick kept trying to help me out
with my ping-pong technique.
He got a bit grabby.
Yeah, they don't tell you about that stuff
on Match of the Day, too?
Have you seen Robyn about?
She's fixing Tom for me.
- Where is she? - I don't know.
Eve!
Where is she?
Shit.
Melody!
Hey, have you seen Robyn?
Melody!
Melody, you okay?
Fuck off, Eve!
Yes!
Robyn! Rob!
Jesus, will you slow down?
Robyn!
- Look, we were... - Shut the fuck up.
- All right, please. - Mate, just do us all a favor
and shut the fuck up.
Sam...
You're rotten.
That better not be my coke.
Sam!
- Miss... - Sam!
Come let's have a drink.
Not to be funny, but your man Jay
knows this stuff's not for real, right?
He keeps following me around, trying to hold my hand.
Sam!
- Sam! - Babe.
Babe, babe, you havin' a good time, yeah?
Listen, listen, can you... Can you get me more of that here?
Can you call someone?
- Robyn! - Sam!
- Uh... - What?
You might wanna keep an eye on your friend.
Oh, shit.
Um...
Hey!
Get off her!
Get off!
It's cool, all right? Leave it.
No. You touch her again and I will kill you!
Now, get out!
Out!
Whatever.
What were you doing?
- I'm fine. - No, you're not fine.
- I am fine. - No, no, no. I need to get you home.
Oh, God, just get off me!
I'm not a little girl. I am a... I am a cuckoo!
I can do this, Robyn. I can be like you.
You're fired.
Don't come in on Monday.
Really?
Oh, God.
I'll take her.
I enjoy putting drunk people to bed. It makes me feel superior.
- Eve... - No.
You don't get to say anything.
Robyn, what are you doing?
I need to stay here tonight.
But you can't.
- Get Ruth, please? - No.
- Ruth? - Robyn, the kids are in bed.
- Ruth? - Robyn, just, please.
- Ruth! - No.
Hey!
Just...
I need to stay.
Sam...
It's...
You'll figure it out. You always do.
No.
Not this time.
Well, you got what you wanted, then.
What's that supposed to mean?
So...
Mark's home?
That is my business.
And if he lies to me again...
I'm a grown-up, Robyn.
I'm a mother.
And the idea that you and he need to protect me is...
- Ruth... - No, listen to me.
You don't have to look after me.
You cannot look after me.
You can't even look after yourself.
I love you...
So much.
And I see what you do with everyone. It is so clever.
You pull all the strings and you spin all the plates
and you make it all work out,
and it's really impressive.
It really is.
But you mustn't do that with me.
Rob, okay?
Not with me.
I need you to promise me
that you will never lie to me,
you will always tell me the truth.
Mark kissed me.
What?
He was drunk, and it was stupid,
and it didn't mean anything.
Why would you tell me that?
What?
This.
This is when I see her, Rob.
Mom. In you.
This whirlwind. This spinning and spinning and sucking everything in,
and the thing is that when the whirlwind stops,
there's nothing actually there.
It's just motion.
The only thing that is real is the mess that you leave behind.
God.
You followed me here, Robyn.
I just wanted a boring life.
Cry, you cunt.
Subtitles by explosiveskull