“Jordan.” Theo’s voice was urgent. “Jordan. Look.” The stadium finally came into focus, and I. Fucking. Lost. It. I sank to my knees, right there in the centre of the pitch, tears blurring my vision. From every corner of our stadium, home and away fans were calling our names. Mine and Theo’s. And there were rainbow flags among the crowds, bright bursts of colour, waving and dancing, a visual representation of support, an acceptance, an acknowledgement that love is fucking love.
