startofsumthingnew



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    [Anya dances on her back legs, expression excited as Shane grabs his phone and they walk out the door. The video cuts to footage of Shane's legs running with Anya beside him, and then to the two of them sitting on the front steps of a large house. Shane's face and chest are sweaty, and he wipes at the hair on his forehead as he takes a long drink of water.]

    Shane: Hi, um, I'm Shane Hollander, which you probably already know if you're seeing this, but I've been asked to do this day in the life thing? I don't really know what I'm doing, and I'm honestly kind of annoyed I have to keep setting my phone up and walking into rooms like I haven't already been there, but you know. Anything for the team, right?

    [He looks at Anya, and she barks before licking at the sweat on his face. Shane halfheartedly tries to push her off, but laughs at her antics before he speaks again.]

    Shane: So, anyway. Come spend the day with me and my husband if you want.

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    11 Aug 2026

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    “How long?”

    Shane was shaking.

    “Coach?”

    “How long have you been fucking Ilya Rozanov?”

    -

    Instead of getting injured during the game after Tampa, pictures are released exposing the secret relationship between Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander. The two rival captains are forced to choose between everything they've spent years building and the person they never quite learned how to let go.

    Unfortunately, neither of them has ever been particularly good at walking away.

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    10 Aug 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 78

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    "I'm coming to the cottage."

    What was the rest of the conversation? And a little scene added at the cottage. Mostly based on the show.

    ***
    Shane felt almost giddy. Disbelief pulsed through him at the confirmation that this was actually happening.

    “Holy shit,” he said quietly, and then shaking his head when he realized that wasn’t the answer to Ilya’s question.  “Yes!  Ottawa International Airport.  Just wear something inconspicuous, and I’ll text you where I park.” 

    “Oke,” he heard Ilya’s hesitation and felt apprehension tighten its claws into his chest.  

    Was this the moment it all became too real for Ilya?  Would he back out?

    “What is inconspicuous?” Ilya finally asked, and Shane almost doubled over in relief.

    “It means don’t stand out,” Shane explained without hesitation or reproach.  “Just wear something that blends in.”

    “Ah, yes,” Ilya murmured his understanding into the phone, his voice taking on a playful lift for his next words. “Do not worry, no one will notice me, Hollander.”

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    08 Aug 2026

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    Ilya widens his eyes, moves his hands in an impatient “get on with it” motion. He has the urge to say it for him, end both their misery. Shane blinks rapidly a few times, takes another deep breath. “I want to stop,” he says simply.

    Ilya lets out one humorless laugh, “Stop what?”

    Shane ignores him. “At the All Star Game, I told you I liked you. And you said about Russia and your family. And I looked some things up. I get it. I get it better now. I know we can’t but I can’t stop wanting to be…more. Unless we stop.”

    OR

    Shane just wants to be friends and Ilya is, like, fine with that or whatever

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    07 Aug 2026

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    What if Shane doesn't go back to his room after the infamous Vegas penthouse suite night? What if he finds himself at the bar with other hockey players and what if Ilya gets a call from Marly telling him this.

    What if they both realize how much they've been hurting each other? What if they actually talk?

    ______

    “Rozy!” Cliff shouted through the phone and Ilya winced. “Where did you go? You have to get back down here.”

    Ilya sighed, rolling his eyes. “I have flight in the morning, Marly. I know what you look like drunk. I do not need to come see.”

    “Come on, Roz,” Cliff almost whined. “Even Hollander is down here holding up the bar or maybe it’s holding him up. Kinda hard to tell at this point. Gonna let him be the life of the party when you won the fucking award?”

    The fog in Ilya’s brain shifted and scattered at the name.

    Ilya’s stomach sank.

    Fuck.
    Fuck.
    Fuck.

    “How many has he had?” Ilya asked, pushing himself up from the bed, glancing around the room until he saw his dress pants and shirt still on the floor by the end of the bed.

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    01 Aug 2026