Speaking up: few of Lukas Webb's Western Bulldogs teammates knew the circumstances of his friend's death. Credit:Eddie Jim They'd have been bonded regardless, this crew of young men from Gippsland who've always had each other's backs. Now their alliance will for ever have a mournful edge. "It's changed our lives." Before he was a 20-year-old Western Bulldogs footballer of poise and promise, Lukas Webb was a teenager with a tight band of mates living and loving the adventures of country kids. At primary school he was drawn to Brandon, the fastest boy in class who could do backflips in grade 2. The life of the playground, he was known to all as "Speedy". "We all loved him. He was so cheerful, everything he did was with a smile on his face. He was from a really nice family, had lots of brothers and sisters. One of the most exciting kids I've ever met." They played basketball together in junior representative teams, sharing car trips to Maffra, Traralgon, Moe, Morwell. Whatever Brandon had he was always willing to share. "He'd always be giving his lunch away at school, he was so generous."

Webb (right) didn't know his friend, Jake (left), had been struggling Geography eventually pulled them apart, as Webb went to school in Sale and later Melbourne. On the way home from Gippsland Power football training one night the grim news arrived on Facebook. "He was the first close person to me who'd passed away. Everyone reacts differently. For me it was just really hard to get my head around the idea that he's not with us any more ..." Webb with his friend, Brandon, when they were kids. Jake was sporty in a different way, an "action man" who lived on a farm outside town where he and his brothers rode motorbikes and drove paddock bombs. He loved gadgets – a GoPro, headphones, all things music and video – and was always looking for the next innovation.

"He was an inventor – he had such a creative mind, was always one step ahead of everyone else," Webb says. It touches people in so many communities, you don't realise how you can be connected. Jake had started school early so was a year level above, but it made no difference. They sat next to each other on the 90-minute bus ride to Gippsland Grammar, the same seats every day for years. "The bus always went quick because we were laughing the whole time." Webb went to Caulfield Grammar for his VCE years but in the holidays his mates would reconnect like they'd never been apart. He initially found the move hard, but Jake was there for him whenever he came home; they'd be off taking photos, or surfing, skating, jumping off piers and bridges. "He taught a lot of people lessons in how to handle yourself, he was always so respectful to your mum and dad. Mum loved Jake, so did dad. He was just such a bright personality, everything you'd want in a young kid."

On Australia Day 2015, three months after he'd been drafted by the Bulldogs, Webb invited everyone to his mother's house just outside Lakes Entrance. A gathering that grew into the 30s as the day wore on had a few beers, listened to the annual Hottest 100 countdown on Triple J, just hung out. He still has photos on his phone of their crew down at the beach, everyone smiling and happy, Jake in the thick of it. They went back home and were counting down the top 10 when Jake told him he had to work early the next morning so was heading off. "I'll see ya soon, speak to you later," his friend said as they shared the handshake of soulmates, always with some silly flourish or ritual at the end. Webb watched him say goodbye to the others, just like any day, climb into a taxi and drive off. The stayers headed down the hill to the pub, but as soon as they arrived the publican told Webb his mother had phoned asking to bring him straight home. The police were there when they arrived. "My memory's pretty hazy from there," he says. "I remember breaking down as soon as they told me, just disbelief really." Jake had taken his own life.

He speaks beautifully of his mate but admits he finds it hard – not least because his mind turns to Jake's family, how much more acute their pain is, how many more questions they must have. The hardest thing has been coming to terms with the fact that, even if he'd known, he might not have been able to help. "I've learnt that people get sick mentally, it's like physically getting sick. I still don't think people realise that. We were so close to him, and we didn't even know." It's made him think about what more can be done to prevent youth suicide, something he reckons people don't worry about unless it affects them directly. "It's such a big problem in today's society – people are scared to speak, people don't talk about their feelings. It's an old-fashioned thing – as country kids it was, 'Just get on with it'." He knows there are groups, such as Lifeline and beyondblue, doing valuable work He knows, too, there are young people hurting, and just hopes they can reach out somehow, even if only through the anonymity of the internet. "I think we should definitely open up the conversation a bit more. As hard as it is, just speak out. Don't bottle things up – it's pretty cliched, but just say how you're feeling." His own experience in the days after Jake's death highlights the malaise. Webb missed the first day of the Bulldogs' pre-season camp on the Sunshine Coast, but was there by the Thursday and trained through the weekend before returning home for the funeral. Most people at the club knew he'd lost a close friend, but not the circumstances. More than a year later, few still do.

He says the club was "amazing, looked after me really well", but admits he struggled for a time at training. As a kid, football had always been an outlet, a release from the real world. Now that it's his job he finds himself reaching for something else to calm a ticking mind. Webb played 10 games in his debut season, showing enough across half-back to earn a contract extension. He knows his learning curve is steep in a team on the rise, that he'll have to work harder still to keep up. But given the miserable backdrop, he's proud of what he's done so far. "I just sort of got on with it." On Australia Day this year his crew gathered again, this time at another mate's house in Traralgon. He didn't feel like a beer so just relaxed, gravitated to those who'd been closest to Jake. Together they listened to the Hottest 100. "It was a pretty tough day to get through mentally, but with everyone else there, happy to be in each other's company, we had a pretty good day. As good as it probably could have been." He's proud of how they got around each other at the time, and makes an effort to stay in touch with a wider circle than he might have before. When he told Jake's family he'd spoken to Fairfax Media they were supportive and grateful; people are still nervous around them so rarely bring it up. The silence is excruciating.

His friends don't shy away from talking about Jake, are committed to holding fast to what a great mate he was. "Obviously it frustrates me, but you just don't know what people are going through. If anything I just feel sorry for him, that no one could help him. "At the end of the day it was his choice, and it was obviously a really poor decision. But I don't think I've really been angry at him. It's just given me an understanding that someone can be struggling that much. And that we need to help." For help or information call Lifeline 131 114 or beyondblue 1300 224 636