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The annual Rozanov-Hollander Halloween party swept through the Ottawa Centaurs, still buzzing off the excitement of the day’s later activity. Wyatt loomed over Troy as he began to rattle off fun facts about the more niche comic book superhero that he and his wife, Lisa, would be dressing as later that day. Troy sat there barely listening as he tore off his gear from practice.
“Hazy, stop blabbing Barrett’s ears off, will ya?” Bood said across the locker room, throwing off his shirt into the abyss of his dirty clothing bag.
“Relax, Hayz, you and Lis will be able to tell us all about that specific issue of The Fantastic Four at the party.” Evan added before leaning over to Chionaurd and whispering, “When I’m too drunk to understand him.”
Chionaurd and Evan both laughed to themselves as Wyatt sent a glare in their direction.
“I don’t mind, Hazy, Harris talks a lot, I’m used to listening.” Troy reached up and patted Wyatt on the shoulder as he was removing all of his goalie gear.
“What about the first husbands of hockey? First couple's costume?” Wyatt laughed, throwing one of Troy’s gloves at Shane’s back as he rid himself of the rest of his gear.
“That is a surprise.” Ilya turned around and threw the glove back at Wyatt, hitting his chest and falling onto Troy’s dark head of hair.
Wyatt laughed as Troy nearly grumbled to get his glove, but chuckled after he finally threw it in his locker with the rest of his gear.
The ride home from practice was still buzzing with excitement for Ilya. Shane, however, was a nervous wreck. He hated hosting; everything needed to be perfect, the food, the decorations, the music, the drinks, the cups, the plates…
“Shane, I can see you spiraling over there.” Ilya piped up, taking his hand off the gear shift and placing it on Shane’s rattling thigh.
“It’s got to be perfect,” he huffed, his arms pressed tight to his chest, and his thumbnail chewed vigorously between his teeth.
“Shane, Moya lyubov, we are okey,” Ilya rubbed his thumb on top of Shane’s leg, “I am great host, da?”
“Yes, but what if…”
“They will be far too drunk to care about little details. You have to relax. It will be fun.” Ilya did his best to give Shane a reassuring smile while keeping his eyes on the road,
Shane pressed his head into the headrest and shut his eyes, placing his hand over Ilya’s and interlocking their fingers as Ilya’s thumb began to rub Shane’s.
“Everything will be according to plan.” Ilya smiled,
Except when Ilya pulled into the driveway, there was another car, a blacked-out Corvette, which blocked the usual entrance to the garage, and Ilya immediately perked up to the running Anya that was already outside.
“Shane, did you let Anya out before we left?” The concern in Ilya’s voice immediately reignited Shane’s fears.
“No…” Shane’s voice was panicked as he quickly opened the car door, and Anya leaped up into his arms.
Shane noticed the Corvette as Anya showered him in kisses. Ilya had already gotten out of the car and started to investigate the vehicle. Shane's panic almost immediately subsided as Svetlana appeared behind the car and went over to embrace Ilya. Shane sighed and carried Anya out of the car with him.
“I was hoping she was just running to find you. I thought to let her go to the bathroom before you guys got home.” Svetlana said, laughing,
“You scared us, Sveta. We thought someone broke in.” Ilya laughed, retrieving the dog from Shane’s arms to get showered in another round of Anya’s sweet kisses.
“I’m sorry, I did not mean it.” Svetlana embraced Shane in a hug as they all walked up the porch steps into the house.
“I wanted to stop by before the party. I need to borrow something from you, Ilya.” Svetlana closed the door as Ilya put down the dog, and she ran for a squeaky toy.
“Of course, what is it, it for costume?” Ilya asked, taking off his backward hat and ruffling his freshly washed hair.
“Do you still have your Raiders jersey? I wanted to be a traitor.” Svetlana smirked, earning a small chuckle from Shane, who was already checking through the fridge for necessary liquors
“I am not traitor, and if you call me dat I will not give you jersey.” Ilya crossed his arms, “We both know why I sighed with Ottawa.”
“I’m kidding, Ilya, may I please still have the jersey?” Svetlana laughed, pushing his shoulder,
“Ugh, fine, is not because you apologize, is because I am nice.” Ilya pointed at her as he headed upstairs to the bedroom to retrieve his old Boston Jersey.
“That’s funny that you’re going as Ilya tonight,” Shane laughed, “I thought about us being each other for this Halloween too, but Ilya said that was boring.”
“Is a bit boring for your first couple’s costume, da?” Svetlana said with a smirk.
“You two really do go way back, don’t you?” Shane laughed, leaning against the counter,
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Svetlana was spending Halloweekend in Ottawa so she could attend this party that her now-married, best friend and husband were throwing. It wasn’t an awful flight from Boston, but she enjoyed visiting her childhood best friend. The hotel was a penthouse, lavish, expensive, but quiet, exactly what she expected out of a hotel. Selling eccentric and expensive cars lends itself to treating herself with these fancy hotels on trips like this. She hung the Raiders’ jersey on the closet door before deciding to do her hair first.
Not many people in Russia knew how to do hair like hers, so she quickly became skilled in the art of five cornrows down the back of her head that lay as flat as possible to her scalp. From her luggage, she pulled out all the necessities for a wig installation, a wig that matched her usual hair texture but was bright blonde, matching Ilya’s hair.
She was blending the wig cap to her scalp with foundation when her phone rang. As she expected, Ilya’s name showed on her screen.
“привет, Ilya.”
“Эй!, Sveta, can you please tell Shane that you are coming and wearing a costume?”
“Hello, Shane, I will be there soon, and I will be in costume.” She laughed, brushing the warm color onto her hairline to blend the lace wig cap with her scalp.
“Love, it barely looks like you’re wearing a costume,” Ilya spoke away from the phone to Shane, but still in earshot of the speaker.
“I look like a slut!” Shane exclaimed, loud enough for Svetlana to hear.
She let out a cackle on the other end of the line before Ilya countered him, “You are a slut!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Shane shot back,
Svetlana could hardly stop herself from dying over the phone. Ever since they became public, this was the usual conversation that she interjected between them in their private life.
“Don’t worry, Shane. I will also look like a slut, it is Halloween, dat is part of the fun!” She spoke to him reassuringly.
“Спасибо, Sveta,” Ilya sighed into the phone, still partly laughing,
“Of course, Ilya, I’ll be there at 7:00,” She replied, still laughing too,
A few minutes before she was about to leave, Svetlana strapped on a pair of heels and sauntered in front of the full-length mirror to admire her reflection. The blonde wig sharply contrasted and complemented her dark, warm skin tone and dark glamourous makeup. Ilya’s Jersey was huge, with only a mini skirt beneath it and black fishnet garters wrapped around her thighs. She snapped a few photos for her Instagram, examining the lighting. I could be sluttier. She remarked to herself as she posed a few times.
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A few years ago, Ilya would not have been able to resist her looking like this, but now, he was strapped down and wouldn’t even bat an eye.
“I love the blonde on you, looks nice, da.” Ilya and Sveta shared a French kiss on both cheeks before she stepped back to observe Shane and Ilya, with Anya held in Ilya’s arms.
The denim, corduroy, and cowboy hats immediately gave away their costumes. They were Jack and Ennis from Brokeback Mountain, just without shirts, sleeves on their jackets, or most of their jeans.
“You guys look great, too! And who is she?” Sveta cupped the face of Ilya’s dog, cradling her head as she wore a large, gray, stone-looking costume.
“We are the cowboys, and she is the Brokeback Mountain!” Ilya held her out, proud of his honestly stupidly hilarious idea he came up with after watching the movie on Shane’s couch.
Shane leaned in and kissed Ilya’s cheek, his cowboy hat leaning up slightly as it bumped with Ilya’s. Anya tried to interject with kisses of her own, making the two of them share a laugh.
“Seems like an excuse for you both to make out all night,” Sveta laughed, as Shane led her to the kitchen to get her a drink.
Music got louder as they furthered into the house that was starting to fill up with hockey players and their accompanying WAGs. Most costumes showcased a lot of skin, completely skintight, or just an outright joke. A tipsy, skimpy Cop Bood stumbled a little into the kitchen.
“Hey Shane! This party is great!” He took a swig of beer, “Oh my god, are you Roz? That's hilarious, girl!”
Svetlana laughed, reached out, and received Bood’s tipsy fist bump and the Vodka soda that Shane had prepared for her. She nodded and took a drink before examining the rest of the party. She knew every player there; her Hockey knowledge was not lost on her, and most of the women she could tie back to their men in matching costumes. She leaned against the back of the couch where a large man with red hair and a thick red beard held a smaller, darker-skinned man with dark brown hair. That was Ryan Price, dressed in a light purple sweater with darker purple slacks and a pink scarf tied around his neck. The man in his lap, whom Svetlana perceived as Ryan’s boyfriend, was in thick, black glasses, a cropped orange turtleneck, and a red skirt. Daphne and Velma, of course, Scooby Doo, an American show that Svetlana had seen on television a few times while browsing channels. The man in Ryan’s lap noticed her and waved,
“Oh my gosh, girl, you look amazing!” He chirped, sitting up a little to take her hand and kiss it, “I’m Fabian, do you know Ryan?”
“Yes, I’m familiar with him, Svetlana.” She shook his hand.
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“Oh my god, Rose, you did not,” Shane exclaimed, opening the door to Rose Laundry and her friend Miles.
She stood in the doorway in a Montreal Metro’s Shane Hollander jersey, with fishnets and heels, and a long, black wig with painted freckles on her face, “I was going to carry around a trophy, but that just felt rude after you traded.”
“Yeah, Ilya might murder you for that. Hey Miles, you look great too!” Shane leaned in and gave them both a hug,
“Hey Shane!” Miles dragged out the end of his name and pulled in another, skinnier man next to him dressed in the same small orange shorts and Hooter’s crop top that Miles was wearing, “This is my date!”
“Nice to meet you, man.” Shane shook the other man’s hand,
Rose gave Shane another side hug before heading into the kitchen to get herself a beer. A few of the guys waved at her, still not used to Shane’s friendship with such a famous actress. She entered the room, and Wyatt nearly charged into her with a conversation about her X-Squad movies. Her face lit up at his immediate joy and her recognition that he was dressed as Reed Richards from the Fantastic Four franchise. His wife, Lisa, immediately noticed his excitement too, joining the conversation with her matching, Sue Storm costume. The conversation heavily revolved around her films until Wyatt snapped out of it briefly to note that she was dressed as Shane.
“That’s hilarious, you're dressed like Shane!” He laughed, motioning towards her oversized Metros jersey.
“I thought it would be funny, first Halloween party that Shane’s hosted.” Rose laughed in return,
“You look gorgeous, honey,” Lisa said, rubbing her upper arm. She was clearly tipsy on the wine she’d been drinking
“Did you see Ilya’s Russian friend?” Wyatt was almost yelling over the music, and the effects of the alcohol were taking their toll, but he pointed over to the couch.
Rose looked over and noticed her right away, the bright blonde hair against her dark skin, the oversized Raider’s jersey, and the garters that led to fishnets in her black heels. For some reason that Rose couldn’t pinpoint, she flushed. The other girl was talking to a man dressed in a yellow hazmat suit and a gray toque, clearly Jessie Pinkman from Breaking Bad, with his arm around a man with a beard and a matching Hazmat suit, but a poorly placed bald cap and corny glasses on his nose; the matching Walter White.
“So you’ve known Ilya your whole life?” Luca Haas spoke, clad in a cheap, showy Thor costume that showed off his built figure and highlighted his Finnish accent.
Svetlana nodded, “Almost, I’ve known him since he was small, before his hair had curls.”
“Wow,” Troy Barrett, reaching up and fixing the toque of his Breaking Bad costume, “I can’t imagine him with straight hair,”
“That’s really weird.” Harris, Troy’s boyfriend, lying under his arm, spoke, fixing his Walter White glasses.
“Oh my god.” The player Svetlana recognized as Shane’s former teammate, Hayden Pike, spoke up,
Svetlana looked up and noticed his Prince Charming costume that complemented his wife’s short, Cinderella gown.
“Look,” Hayden made eye contact with her, then pointed across the living room to where Wyatt and Lisa stood.
Svetlana, at last, noticed Rose staring at her. She looked gorgeous with dark hair and fake freckles on her cheeks. Rose flushed more and turned her head, noticing that the girl in the Raider’s jersey had noticed her staring.
“I think I have to introduce myself,” Svetlana joked, placing her hand on Luca’s bare shoulder, as Hayden and his wife, Jackie, started to laugh behind her.
Her heels clacked against the tile, but it was drowned out by music and loud conversation. She weaved past Dysktra, in his camo deer costume, Chinaurd, in a weird suit with a rubber horse mask partially sat on his head, and at last joined the Hayes couple and Rose Landry.
“Hollander.” Svetlana joked, giving Rose a cheeky smirk,
“Rozanov,” Rose laughed, still visibly flustered,
“Uh-oh, here we go again!” Wyatt joked, alerting a few nearby attendees to the joke-face off.
The real Ilya Rozanov, who was incredibly drunk, was one of the alerted. He sauntered over and flung his arm around his best friend’s shoulder, laughing and giggling like an idiot.
“Oh, now dis, dis is funny.” Ilya hung onto Svetlana as Rose continued to fall deeper and deeper into an embarrassed blush.
Shane noted the awkward stance of Rose and appeared at her side, with a hand on her shoulder,
“Now you know how I felt.” He whispered in her ear.
Rose finally stopped shying away and let herself laugh. The beer was starting to make her a little tipsy.
“Look, it is us!” Ilya, on the other hand, was not very comforting, alerting the party to the two women dressed like them.
Most of the eyes of the drunk party attendees drifted over to the loud Russian. A few chuckles filtered through as they made the connection to both of the girls' costumes. The attention would usually be comforting to Rose; she thrived in front of crowds, that was her job, to perform. But the girl in front of her was gorgeous. Her heart-shaped face with big, brown eyes that teased a weird sensation in her stomach. She had to break the tension that was building between them, but she also had an audience.
“Fuck you,” she joked, the usual toy that Shane would toss at Ilya in the early days of their rivalry, which was still a present term that Shane would jokingly shout at Ilya in his relentless teasing.
“More like ‘Fuck me Please’,” Svetlana responded, in the same cadence as Ilya’s, just followed with a little chuckle, mirroring the response that Ilya always told Shane.
Shane and Ilya let go of the girls and held each other as they began to laugh, the memories of their early career and their relationship now; the way they bickered into flirting so easily, so much so that their girl-bestfriends had noticed enough to mimic it. What Shane and Ilya missed in their fit of laughter and nostalgia was Rose’s utterly gawked expression. Her mind was whirling. Maybe it was just the drunk haze, or her gorgeous accent, or her dark eyes, or the way that her garter’s clasped around her thighs…
“You should kiss her!” Both of the girls turned to find the source of the voice,
It was difficult to trace through the howling crowd of Hockey players and WAG’s that cheered them on. Rose tried to play it cool. She turned back toward the Russian girl and shrugged, like butterflies weren’t fluttering around so rapidly that she feared they would break out of her stomach. Svetlana matched her smug impression as she scooted closer. Svetlana reached her hand up and cupped Rose’s cheek, pulling her in. Rose sucked in a breath as she leaned in, allowing the other girl to take the lead and kiss her. The moment their lips grazed each other, no matter how brief, something inside of Rose ignited. She stepped closer and pulled the other girl in with a soft hand on her back. She could feel her smile against her lips, and she smiled in return, remaining close but pulling away from the kiss. The girls’ cheeks were both flushed with a layer of pink as the crowd of Hockey players and WAG’s erupted in cheers. Svetlana rubbed her thumb on the girl's cheek as they both shared a laugh, and the group continued to laugh and cheer.
“Svetlana,” She whispered, her accent highly pronounced and high off the energy rush, “My name’s Svetlana.”
“I’m-” Svetlana cut her off with a peck to the cheek, leaving a lipstick stain
“I know who you are, Rose Landry.” She smirked.