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Summer 2011
It’s been a month since he last saw Hollander, last kissed him in Vegas. He thinks about texting, sometimes, but there’s no point. Hollander doesn’t want to hear from him; he’d made that pretty clear when he’d left Ilya, hungry and wanting on the rooftop. Not that Ilya didn’t deserve it.
He’s had this problem before, of course, with girls-they just want different things. It was like Hollander expected them to be friends or something, wanted Ilya to talk about Russia, or cheer on his stupid trophy. Ilya just wants Hollander, but of course he can’t have him.
It’s late one boring night, and for reasons he doesn’t even try to explain to himself, he’s watching Hollander videos on YouTube. He finishes hate-watching 🔥🔥🔥BEST HOLLANDER GOALS COMPILATION🔥🔥🔥and tries to find an interview he hasn’t seen yet in the recommended videos when he sees a GOLDEN BOY HOLLANDER: FAN INTERACTIONS COMPILATION. He grins and clicks on it; this should be good. Hollander is always flawless in front of the press—media-coached to perfection—but fans are a little more unpredictable.
It’s as entertaining as Ilya thought it would be. The first few clips show various female fans more or less obviously hitting on Hollander, and being pretty universally rejected. Ilya knows Hollander isn’t even doing it on purpose, he’s just that oblivious to the signals (from everyone except Ilya, apparently.) Ilya’s favorite is when a woman at a meet-and-greet starts praising his biceps and Hollander starts explaining why his macros diet is key for building muscle mass. But even Hollander can’t misunderstand when a fan shows him her homemade, glittering sign that reads “Marry Me, Shane! <3” and Ilya enjoys watching the red flush slowly creep up Hollander’s neck as he tries to politely reject the proposal.
The next clip is of Shane at a kiddie game in his hometown of Ottawa, tiny six- and seven-year-olds surrounding him, zooming around and crashing into each other on the ice. Shane’s giving hockey advice—it’s some publicity thing for a Rolex charity drive, Ilya doesn’t know the details—and he seems much more at ease here than in the other videos (admittedly, a low bar to reach.) He’s always himself the most when he’s on the ice, of course, but to Ilya’s surprise, he also seems to be a natural with the kids. He just treats them like miniature adults, pretty much, which from anyone else might seem insincere, but Hollander is very obviously just taking them extremely seriously, whether they’re asking him to tie their skates for them or to judge them when they race to the net.
After the on-ice part of the fundraiser is over, there’s a question-and-answer session with the kids. They each get to ask Hollander one question, and Hollander very patiently answers each one. What advice do you have for young hockey players? Work hard and believe in yourself. What’s your favorite part of hockey? Working together with my team to improve our playing. Will the Metros win the Stanley Cup this year? He really hopes so, and they’re working hard to be the best. Finally, a tiny kid with a squeaky voice, and, of all things, a Boston Raiders hat gets to the front of the line and asks if Hollander likes playing against Ilya Rozanov.
Ilya bolts upright, his eyes glued to the screen. Now that hooking up with Hollander again seems unlikely, Ilya’s happy to take the next best thing: trading chirps and pissing Hollander off until they play truly great hockey against each other. Hollander’s response is sure to provide some sweet motivation, even if he will temper his words for the kid, evidently a Boston fan.
“Yeah, I love playing Rozanov,” says Hollander, a little awkwardly. “He’s a great player, and he challenges me to be better. Hockey is the most fun when you’ve got great competition, and Rozanov and I have been playing each other so long, we’ve really become part of each other’s styles; I mean, I’m not sure what my game would be like if we’d never met.”
Hollander finishes and the kid just beams. Hollander looks a little uncomfortable, like he’s maybe said too much, and he coughs into his hand then asks politely for the next question. Ilya pauses the video in shock. What the fuck was that? Why is Hollander being nice? Half of him wonders if this is some kind of mind game Hollander is playing, but there’s no way Hollander could know he’d watch this video. He doesn’t seem aware of the camera at all, which some parent is holding in the second row, so he might not even know he’s being filmed. Besides, Hollander is a shitty liar, and he’d just seemed so sincere, answering the question just like all the others: as honestly and seriously as he can.
So maybe he means it. Ilya knows that “He challenges me to be better,” coming from Hollander is basically a marriage proposal, so this video must be from ages ago, before Vegas, before it became clear exactly what they are to each other, which is nothing. But Ilya finds himself googling the event anyway, looking for a date since there’s none on the video, just because he’s curious, not because he’s really going to find anything—and then he stops, confused, because it turns out this all happened last week.
He doesn’t know what to do with the information that Hollander thinks Ilya makes him a better player, and loves playing him, even when they’re not sleeping together. It makes Ilya think there might be some hope after all, and the next day while he’s running in the rare Moscow sunshine, he texts Hollander: “Still mad about Vegas?”
“I’m not mad about anything!” is the quick response. Ilya smiles to himself. Hollander is such a bad liar.