“Are you even trying?” Barry breathes an exasperated sigh, wiping sweat from his brow as he shrugs his shoulders, as if answering his own question. Does anyone take the art and joy of golfing seriously besides him? If only the professionals played, Barry would be out of a job. Novices make the world go ‘round, even if some of them are more… intolerable than the others.

This one in particular checks all the boxes: stubborn, insecure, unreachable, isn’t fond of golf, and somehow knows Jack.

He can’t help it, his hands twitch and clench.

“I-I don’t know if you know this, but the objective is to hit the ball. Okay? You have to hit it. With-With the club. Got it? Does that make sense now?”

No, he will not give a demonstration. Barry is a coach, and coaches don’t play—not in front of their students, at the very least. Despite what Jack tells him, Barry refuses to give into the whims of his golf students. He’s a celebrity after all.