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‘You’ve been here for less than five minutes and you’ve already made it a competition,’ I inform him with a laugh.

‘I told you last night, everything’s a competition, and I’m usually winning,’ he replies.

He mentions last night so simply, so casually, and it comes out so naturally. God, I hope he doesn’t mention it in front of Eddy, not because I did anything wrong, but, I don’t know… the optics are amiss, shall we say.

I busy myself checking the equipment for a moment.

I have two cameras, a small lighting kit, a couple of clip-on microphones and a list of questions I wrote in my hotel room after Jamie left. The plan is to keep the content loose, get them talking, and try to get some sound bites where they’re not calling each other a bellend.

Eddy walks in right on time, wearing a Leeds Lions hoodie. Jamie is, of course, wearing a Minotaurs hoodie too, so they’re basically in their kits. Hopefully not ready for a scrap, but the day is young.

‘Morning,’ I say brightly.

‘Morning,’ he replies.

I notice Jamie staring at us. Shit, thinking about it, I’d probably kiss him, if we were a real couple.

I lean over and peck him on the cheek.

‘Just a quick one,’ I tell him. ‘I promise I’ll snap into professional mode now.’

He smiles – probably at how smart that is, because it gets us out of faking it, if we’re both doing our jobs.

Jamie checks his watch. ‘Cutting it close,’ he points out unhelpfully.

Eddy shrugs.

‘Right. Okay. You’re both here, nobody needs to punch anybody over the time,’ I joke. ‘Shall we crack on?’

‘No one has punched anyone yet,’ Jamie jokes.

‘I can be flexible,’ Eddy replies, deadpan.

‘That’s not what the pundits are saying about your thirty-something back,’ Jamie jokes.

‘Right, we’re not saying anything about thirty-somethings, thank you, because I’m turning thirty soon, so I’ll be the one throwing punches if you keep that up,’ I point out.

‘You’re twenty-nine?’ Jamie replies in disbelief.

‘Surprised you can do maths like that,’ Eddy says under his breath.

‘I would have said twenty-five, tops,’ Jamie says, ignoring him. ‘What are you doing with an old bloke like Hood?’

Everything is a competition with these two – even verbally one-upping each other. Every exchange between them feels like a dare or a challenge, and they both seem to enjoy it more than I’m sure they would ever admit. There is real tension, anyone can see that, but it’s diluted with something else. I’m just not sure what. They both know exactly how far they can push before the other one pushes back. Maybe that’s why it never turns into anything real – so it’s perfect for the cameras, because obviously I can’t post a video of the two of them coming to real blows on TikTok, can I?

I clip a microphone onto Jamie’s shirt first, doing my best not to notice the way he looks at me while I attach it near his collar.

‘Thanks,’ he says.

‘You’re welcome,’ I reply. I turn to Eddy. ‘Your turn.’

He lowers his head slightly so I can reach his collar.

I move equally close to him, my fingers brushing the warm skin at the base of his throat as I secure the clip, the whole time with Jamie’s voice in my head, saying we don’t seem like a real couple. When I’m done, I lightly place my hands on his chest for a second.

‘All good, gorgeous?’ I check.

‘All good,’ he replies with a smile.