This story begins in August 2010, and follows on from the prequel story Breaking Rules. Brendan Brady has moved to England, leaving Macca behind in Belfast.

In the days after Brendan left him, Macca began to realise the extent of the changes this man had wrought in his life during the year of their affair.

Brendan was in England now, with his sister Cheryl. He had fled Belfast in the aftermath of his wife Eileen's discovery of the two men, her husband and her nephew, in bed together: the marriage was over, and Macca knew that his lover was gone for good.

On his own now, Macca recognised that the process of isolation had begun a long time ago. When he and Brendan had first got together, Macca had had a boyfriend, but as soon as he'd felt himself beginning to fall in love with Brendan he had ended his relationship with Matt, even before Brendan told him to

Macca had already been somewhat estranged from his parents, because although they pretended otherwise, they had struggled to accept his lifestyle since he'd come out to them when he was a teenager. Their awkwardness around him made him uncomfortable, so he'd seen them less and less, and once he was with Brendan he barely saw them at all. It was a similar story with the rest of the family: he avoided seeing his auntie Eileen as much as he could in case he gave anything away. And whereas he used to see his nan – Eileen's mum – and his other relations quite a bit, it clearly made Brendan jittery, and so Macca's visits to them had become rare.

At first, Brendan had always phoned or texted to arrange to come round, but it hadn't been long before he had his own keys and would just turn up, expecting Macca to be there. Macca didn't mind this; the sound of Brendan's key in the lock would fill him with anticipation, and the knowledge that a man like this wanted him so much, was thrilling and affirming. But it meant that he no longer went out very much, coming home from work and staying in just in case Brendan chose to come.

Once, in the early months, Macca had gone out to a club for a friend's birthday. His phone had rung at ten o'clock.

"Brendan?"

"Guess where I am."

"My place?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's right. So where the fuck are you?"

"Out with my mates, Brendan. You didn't tell me you wanted - "

"Any point in me waiting, or are you staying out with your mates?"

"Don't go. I'll come home, yeah?"

Macca had got a taxi he couldn't afford, and arrived home breathless from running up the stairs. Brendan's mood had been dark, and he had a few whiskeys inside him. He'd examined Macca searchingly as the boy got his breath back, scenting him like an animal would for traces of a rival.

"You didn't tell me you were coming," Macca had said quietly.

"What, I've to make an appointment now?"

Brendan had been close enough to kiss, but Macca had been frightened of making the first move.

"I'd have been here if I'd known, Bren, that's all I meant."

Brendan had taken a step back then, and put his hands on Macca's shoulders.

"What mates were you with?"

"A bunch of them, you know, just - "

"Your boyfriend there, was he?"

"Matt? He's long gone, Brendan, you know that. It was someone's birthday, that's all. That's all, I swear."

Brendan had looked at him intently before pulling Macca towards him.

"That's okay then," he'd said, and leaned down to kiss him so gently that the fear Macca had felt a moment ago seemed a foolish overreaction. And then they'd gone to bed, and Brendan had surrounded his body and occupied it, reminding Macca of his ownership of him: as if he could ever forget. Afterwards, lying together, wet with each other's sweat, all Macca's senses alight as Brendan slept, he had known that nothing in the world outside could compare.

He didn't see his friends much after that; it was easier this way.

:::::::

Only now, with Brendan gone, did Macca begin to understand the depth of his isolation. There was no chance of a reconciliation with Eileen any time soon: she hated him, and he understood why. Her small act of revenge immediately after she'd discovered the affair had been to get Macca sacked from his job. He thought this would be just the beginning, and that next, she would cut him off from the family entirely. It was unlikely that she would tell them what he had done to hurt her, but Macca was sure she could find a way to turn them against him if she wanted to. It made him reluctant to speak to any of them. And with no job, and only the month's pay his boss had handed over in lieu of notice, and five hundred pounds Brendan had given him before he left, Macca had no-one to turn to.

On the night Brendan left, he had come to Macca and held him, and hurt him just a bit, and then kissed him. It had to mean something. Otherwise, with the last of his bruises fading away, Macca had lost everything.

:::::::

Brendan's life was busy when he arrived in Hollyoaks village. He found out as much as he could about the way the place ticked, keeping his eyes and ears open: there was more going on there than he'd expected.

Cheryl's windfall from her win on the scratchcards needed protecting. Brendan had run out of money himself, having given most of his cash to Eileen for her and the kids, and a few hundred to Macca to tide him over til he got another job. He set about making himself indispensable to his sister. Cheryl couldn't afford to buy the local nightclub with what was left of her winnings, but she'd set her heart on it, so Brendan called a longtime associate of his. Danny Houston was always looking for nice clean businesses to absorb his dirty money, and within days the deal was done. Houston was the silent partner, and Brendan hoped it would stay that way because he didn't want his sister exposed to the kind of danger that Houston carried with him; and in any case, Brendan wanted to run things his way. It wasn't Brendan's club, but Cheryl looked up to him, and everyone would work out soon enough that he was in charge.

He thought about Macca occasionally in those first weeks; the boy had been a constant in his life over the past year, available and eager. Resilient, too: the poor kid had had to be. What Macca hadn't had to be was kind, and yet he'd chosen to be. Brendan did his best to forget him. As far as he was concerned, that last kiss, on the night he'd left Belfast, was the end of it. The affair had been almost entirely conducted in Macca's flat, cloistered away, but when Eileen had walked in on them, a searchlight had shone in from the real world, and Brendan felt sick now to think of all the things they'd done in that bed.

Macca texted him now and again after he'd gone to England, and sometimes Brendan would reply; but it meant nothing.

:::::::

Something else happened which gave Brendan a vague feeling of unease – so vague that it was only when he looked back on it much later that he realised the feeling was connected to this lad: this lad who'd shown up, hired by Cheryl to do the catering for the club's opening night. It turned out he was undercutting his own boss to get the contract and the money for himself; only, what he got for himself was the sack. Then somehow Brendan wound up punching the boy – Ste, he was called – at the opening party. The cheeky bastard then tried to blackmail Brendan into employing him at the club, threatening to report him for assault if he didn't.

Brendan was tempted to kick him into next week for trying to get one over on him. But there was something in the air around this boy that was alive with possibilities. Brendan couldn't define it, was barely even aware of it. But he gave him a job.