Chapter Text
MONTRÉAL-TRUDEAU INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT – MID-NOVEMBER 2018
9am
Ilya was finally on a fucking plane. He had missed his flight. Shane had been too enticing, too sexy... And he had missed the team's flight. He would have to pay for it, eventually, he knew, but Shane had been too sexy. Too irresistible. The Centaurs front office had had to scramble to find a seat on a new plane. Any plane. Any seat. The plane he was now on had been delayed. For him. You could see it on the other passengers' faces, not that Ilya was looking at them. He could already feel their decades of hate hurtling towards him. Most of the passengers were from Montreal, and they hated him as a rule. So this delay and Ilya Rozanov coming in late must have driven them up the wall. He wondered briefly if a police escort would be necessary once they landed in LA. Late.
Ilya sat in the seat the flight attendant had shown him, pulling up the tray and setting down his phone and earbuds case on it.
“Is this okay, Mr Rozanov?”
“Thank you. Yes... Is perfect. Thank you very much.”
“Our pleasure to have you, sir. Would you like anything to drink?”
“No, thank you. Is perfect. Thank you...”
Ilya sighed and grabbed his phone as she left.
Ilya : I'm on the plane. 38min delay.
He knew Shane knew that already. Ilya was now a little plane on Shane's phone and he would follow him to LAX.
Ilya added quickly. Not an afterthought. A constant state of being.
Ilya : Ya tebya lyublyu.
Jane : I love you. Next time, you HAVE to leave when I tell you.
Ilya : You looked at me like I was the cake in your fridge. Is not my fault.
Jane : Fuck you. You tasted like it, too.
Ilya : Was good cake. I love you.
Jane : See you in two weeks!
Ilya smiled and scrolled back up their messages. They had been...
"You're Ilya Rozanov."
Not a question. Ilya was used to stunned greetings and excited 'holy shits'. But this greeting was stunning him. No excitement. Dread. He had heard the voice before... In a movie.
He locked his phone and put it back on the tray. He shifted his head slightly to the right. Checking. Making sure. Fuck.
“I'm Ro-”
“Rose Landry, yes. I know who you are.”
“You do? How?”
Ilya shrugged, eyes on the screen on the back of the seat in front of him. He was a little plane there, too. He was moving, climbing up high in the sky. The plane felt, suddenly, much smaller than it was on the display.
“Watched movie.”
“Oh! Which one?”
“Hm... Under Dark.”
“Why? That's the worst one you could have watched! Why would you do that to yourself?”
Ilya had asked himself the same thing, back then. Back then, Shane had been firmly planted between her legs. His cock soft and sad, supposedly. And Ilya had looked for more reasons to hate Rose Landry... Anything would do... That stupid crooked smile, saying 'Look at me, I'm so cute and quirky'. He had learned that word then, 'quirky'. He had practiced saying the word, the other words, too. 'This is fine. I'm so fine. Hollander is gone. Good for him.' But he hadn't been fine... No. And so he had turned to the big screen, on his smaller one. He had found an article about Rose Landry's worst movies and had chosen that one, Under Dark, because she was, quoting, 'insufferable in the role of the kidnapped and strong Madeleine.' She had been, and Ilya had built his mental image of Rose Landry around that character. Gladly.
He shrugged.
“Did you like it?”
She was smiling. She seemed to do a lot of that. Ilya didn't want to smile, he didn't want to look at her stupid face, with the stupid quirky smile.
“No...Was terrible. Very bad.”
“Well... Thanks! Wow... You're really the asshole people say you are.”
“Hm.”
Ilya hoped she would now let him be. Stop talking to me. Let me live in the warm memories of Shane's affectation a bit longer. You had him for far too long. It's my turn now and I'm not fucking giving him back.
“What kind of movies do you like?”
Ilya shrugged again and fitted an earbud in his ear.
“I am on planes a lot. I watch a lot of movies.”
“Oh, so you're all the same!”
“All the same?”
“Hockey players! That's what Shane said, too.”
“Hollander?”
“Yeah! We used to date.”
“Ah.”
Oh, did you? I wasn't aware, Rose Landry. Fuck! Six hours. Six fucking hours of sitting next to Shane's ex girlfriend. On principle, Ilya hated her, like the Montreal crowd hated him. As a rule, as the crucial trait of the character of Shane Hollander's boyfriend, he wanted to be angry at her forever, probably longer.
“Do you know him?”
“He is Metro. We are not on the same team.”
“No, I know. I just thought maybe you'd be friends or something? Like colleagues?”
“He's my... My rival.”
He is the love of my life, Landry. You were in his for ten seconds. I've known him since I was a baby hockey player. Fuck off!
“You have a rival? Like in a historical movie or something?”
“Da... You don't?”
“I don't think so... Maybe Angie Ström... She's always stealing my roles... I was supposed to get the one in Little Women, but she stole it!”
Ilya nodded and opened his eyes wider, inhaling. His eyebrows reached up to the middle of his forehead and he shook his head. Oh you're boring, too... I get it. Ilya unlocked his phone to start his 'plane' playlist, his earbuds connected. He had locked his phone after texting Shane and so their conversation was the first thing to show.
A new message. Still the best message, since the summer before's life changing Summer break in Ontario.
Jane : I love you.
Ilya smiled at the words and replied with a tongue emoji.
Shane was still Jane in his phone. And thank god for that, because Rose Landry's eyes were looking. She was looking at Ilya's phone... Ilya looked at her and moved his phone closer to her face, hoping Shane wouldn't send a selfie at the exact same moment.
“You want to read, da?”
“No. I'm sorry. My eyes tend to wander, I guess. I'm sorry. I'm curious.”
She was smiling and Ilya's anger inched closer to the global annihilation of Rose Landry's career.
“Curious?”
“Yeah... I... You have a girlfriend.”
“And you have a boyfriend.”
“Shane? No, no... Shane and I dated a while ago. It's over.”
“Ah... Good for you.”
She seemed to take offense at that... Frowning a little. No, Rose Landry... It is good for me. I hope you're a little bit sad.
“Shane was great!”
Ilya's insides knotted themselves tightly in the second it took her to say it. He heard her affection in the vowels. Shane is great. Shane was his and definitely not hers, but at 35,000 feet above Shane Hollander, his heart had skipped a beat.
“Is good boyfriend, yes?”
Confirm it. I know he is. Confirm it!
“Yeah. He was!”
“Then why... He cheated?”
“No!”
“You cheated?”
“No, of course not! Why would anyone cheat on a man like that?”
“Hm...”
Now... Ilya hadn't cheated. He had tried to fuck other people and feel the same thing that Shane had made him feel. But it hadn't been cheating. They had been nothing for most of their lives... Fuck buddies. Not even that... Rivals who fucked. And it hadn't been cheating... But he should have stopped earlier, much earlier. He should have accepted his feelings earlier and he shouldn't have fucked around all that much... He should have waited for Shane, for Rose Landry's help. For Rose Landry.
He turned his head towards her, actively looking at her for the first time. She was beautiful in that way only Hollywood could imagine. She was cute... He had watched her on TV and had wondered if he would have fallen for her, too, like Shane had... And it had been a resounding "fuck no" but he could see, now, why people liked her, why Shane had liked her...
“Sorry.”
She shrugged.
“You're his rival, whatever that means... I guess you're allowed to hate him. But you're definitely wrong.”
“Ah?”
“Shane is very sweet, and when he loves you, you can always tell. He's not great with emotions and people in general... But when he makes the effort of looking at you in your eyes, you know he means it, you know?”
Ilya closed his mouth. Don't fucking agree with her out loud... But she was so fucking right, and Ilya wanted to tell everyone on the plane.
“I don't. He's always looking at the puck... Or my ass when I skate towards his goalie and he can't look at the puck anymore, because I have it.”
She laughed then, a bright smile, and Ilya smiled back. NO! No, don't do that. This is the enemy. The actual rival. He groaned a bit involuntarily and pushed his other earbud in his ear. Music started playing, something that had always made him think of Shane. But Rose was leaning towards him and he heard the faint sound of her voice through the melody. He removed his earbud, on her side.
“Hm?”
“Your girlfriend?”
“My girlfriend, what?”
“Is she nice?”
Why was she still talking? Ilya had been sufficiently annoying. He had even somewhat insulted the love of his life, her friend, to push her away. And yet, here she was, still asking questions.
“Are you afraid of plane?”
“What?”
“Are you anxious? Like Hollander?”
“No!”
“Why do you talk to me?”
“Because we're sitting next to each other and we both know Shane, I guess... And it's a long flight, we might as well talk!”
Ilya sighed and removed the second earbud. He placed them in their case and leaned against the back of his seat. Face up in the stale air of the plane.
“Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Is your girlfriend... Jane, right? Is she nice?”
Ilya inhaled.
“Yes.”
“Wow! Wow! Slow down, cowboy! This is too much information!”
Ilya frowned.
“What?”
“You can't just say 'yes'! I told you about Shane's eyes. And he's not even my boyfriend anymore.”
Ilya bit his lip... Holding a smile.
“Tell me about his dick.... Is...Is good in bed, yes?”
“I'm not telling you about that!”
“Boring... Jane is great in bed! The best you'll ever have.”
“Dude... Don't talk about your girlfriend like that.”
“You said you are curious, so I'm telling you.”
“I asked if she was nice. Not if she rocks your boat or something...”
“She does. Rock the boat. And Sh-Jane is very nice, very sweet.”
“Is she from Boston?”
“No... Canada.”
“Ah! Canadian people, am I right?”
Ilya nodded.
“Is she okay with you being away all the time?”
“Travels, too.”
“Oh... Okay. I'm asking for myself because I'm seeing this guy in Montreal and I'm not sure how it's going to work with the distance, you know?”
“Is that why you were in Montreal?”
“Yeah but I hung out with Shane, too. I always do. You should get to know him. He's fun!”
Ilya hid his frown behind a chuckle. Shane hadn't mentioned seeing Rose... Ah. The fucking cake. Pink and fucking delicious. It had been in Shane's fridge and Shane had mumbled something about his mother dropping it off... He was a lying liar and Ilya was stupid.
“He is fun!”
“Not the Hollander I know. He's very boring.”
“Boring?”
“Da. Very serious. He's so boring. Always focused on the puck.”
“Or on your ass?”
She had frowned before the smile. Ilya had seen it. Ilya looked at the screen, following the plane over the map, knowing Shane was doing the same thing in his bed. Did he know Rose was on the same flight? He must have.... Ilya should tell him.
“Any advice? For the distance thing?” Rose asked.
“Ah... You talk too much....”
“I do. Advice?”
Ilya shrugged and thought about their relationship, how Shane and him were making it happen... But he realized that he had no helpful insight to give, no Ted talk. They were both just so fucking in love that nothing but unconditional, terminal love could be allowed. It had never occurred to Ilya that an effort had to be made to love from afar. He loved Shane everywhere and everywhen. Even now, sitting next to his ex-girlfriend, flying in a tin can. He had loved him from the very beginning and would love him till the end.
“Meet them when you're too young to care.”
“What kind of advice is that?”
“Is not for you... You're too old, already.”
“Thanks, Rozanov. You're so sweet.”
“Yes. Sh... Jane agrees. She says it all the time. 'Oh, Ilya, you're too sweet, you kiss me better than anyone has ever kissed me before.' Or 'you make me come. Not everyone can!'”
“Do you hate your... girlfriend?”
Ilya was too distracted by the mere idea of Shane coming, that he didn't notice her hesitation.
“No... I love my girlfriend. Maybe Hollander didn't love you enough so you don't recognize it, ah?”
“I can't tell if you're insulting me or Shane more.”
“You.”
“Great! You're a bit of an asshole, aren't you?”
“I'm hockey player.”
“Like that's an excuse. Shane is kind. My brothers, too.”
“Your brothers play hockey? What team?”
“One of them. John used to play in the NCAA for Princeton. He's an agent now. And Peter is still in the AHL. Which is not as big and crazy as the NHL, but you know... Not nothing.”
“No, not nothing. I didn't know.”
Rose frowned and smiled.
“How would you have known?”
“Hm...” Ilya nodded... “We watch gossip show in the gym, sometimes.”
“OK! Fun to think about. So hockey is very gay, then.”
He frowned at her.
“Why?”
“I don't know... Gossiping doesn't sound manly enough for hockey players, I guess.”
“Gossiping is war tactics. I watched you date Hollander and I learned how to dig under his skin, yes? Chirp him about dating superhero.”
“I thought you only watched Under Dark.. And now you know I'm a superhero and you've watched me date Shane?”
“Hard to miss... On the TV. Everywhere.”
“Did you chirp him about us?”
“No...”
Ilya gritted his teeth. No he hadn't. He had not said a word to Shane Hollander then. He had barely looked at him.
“Yeah, you'd better not.”
“Or what?”
Rose smiled and shrugged. Her eyes were focused on his face, observing.
“What do you chirp him about, then?”
Ilya shook his head and inhaled, annoyed.
“You're like him... You have too many questions.”
Rose Landry was really looking at him, now... Ilya closed his mouth. Fuck. He looked towards the seats on his left... Could he escape that way? Or down the aisle? Hide in the toilets? Instead he put his earbuds back in his ears and said,
“I need to sleep.”
“Sure. I'll be right here when you wake up. Rest! I'll have more questions, then, Ilya Rozanov.”
She had a devilish look on her face. She knows too much. She must be dealt with... Fuck.... Fuck.
Ilya slept for twenty minutes. Ilya pretended to sleep for twenty minutes... He had felt her move and think. She knew... Why did I tell her about Shane checking my ass? Or that I know he asks a lot of questions... Or that he is fucking anxious... Fuck now, I'm anxious...
He opened his eyes and glanced at her quickly. She was looking out through the window, an ocean of clouds beyond. Her hand was rubbing against her forearm...
Ilya grabbed his phone from the tray in front of him and went back to the last text he had sent Shane. He breathed in and typed. He knew Shane wouldn't get the text right away but he also knew that even if he did, he wouldn't be able to help in any way. I'm coming out to Rose Landry. I've just outed myself to Rose Landry.
Ilya : I'm sitting next to your girlfriend. She knows I'm your boyfriend.
He nodded, picturing Shane moving in his apartment. He smiled and inhaled.
“Okay.”
He removed his earbuds and looked at Rose Landry. She turned towards him with a small smile. Reassuring. Shane had told him about Rose's powers and he was now facing them head first.
“You're him.”
Not a question, again. He looked at her, observing and nodded almost imperceptibly. She noticed, her smile curved more on her face.
“No need to analyze me like you did to him. I know I'm... I...”
Ilya looked around and pinched his lips together. This wasn't the ideal place to reveal long-kept secrets. She leaned and whispered.
“Gay.”
“No... Bi.”
He whispered back.
“Oh! OK. This, I didn't know!”
“How would you know? What has he told you?”
“Not much. He's secretive... Shit... Jane is secretive.”
“Hm... Jane, yes.”
“I've never seen him text you, or anything. Who are you on his phone?”
“Lily... When you...”
Ilya stopped himself. His brain had gone back to that time Shane had left his couch, his house. Terrified and confused. He sighed and avoided her eyes.
“When you were dating, we were not talking anymore. I was not chirping.”
“You... wait... Anymore?”
“Ah. Jane is very secretive.”
“How long were you..? You said you were 'too young'! I thought it was a new... Holy shit... How long?”
“A long time. But he.... Jane was with you. Not with me.”
“I think he was with you, even then...”
“Hm...”
Ilya blushed a bit... Just the ears. He touched one of them. Warm.
“He told me... He told me that you were freaking him out and that he left?”
“Ah no... He was doing it to himself. I only bought ginger ale and made him food. Is simple.”
She chuckled.
“He dumped you because of food?”
“Dumped me? I didn't get dumped.”
“You did, Ilya. Get used to it.”
“Hm... And you dated gay man, who wanted my dick, so...”
Rose laughed. She looked at Ilya with a frowning line between her eyebrows.
“I think he didn't tell you about us meeting up the other day... Right?
“Hm... The cake was good.”
“Thanks! I picked it!”
“I know. I know, now.”
“He didn't tell you about me! He knows you're still jealous. That's cute.”
“Hm... Am not jealous. You didn't make him hard enough for me to be jealous.”
She looked up, frowning...
“He was. Hard, I mean. ”
“Nope. No. Hmhm...”
“But I guess you're right, it wasn't probably about me. Holy shit, you were in the club!”
She waved her hand towards Ilya and hit him on the shoulder.
“You were at the club! Ciel! Miles saw you!”
“Shut up, Hollywood. Don't tell the whole plane.”
“But you were! And Sh- Jane disappeared... He said he had been sick in the bathroom... Post game nerves, he said.”
“Hm...”
Ilya swallowed.
“What did you do to him?”
“I don't like to think about that night.”
“What did you do?”
“I saw you kiss him, so I... I kissed someone too. And I looked at him whole time. He was very hot... But I was too angry.”
“And sad...”
“Hm... That too.”
“Ilya. I'm sorry.”
Ilya frowned and shook his head.
“Hm... Not your fault. And you... Hm... I swore I would hate you forever so this is hard for me...”
She chuckled again.
“You gave him back in the end, yes? Is all okay.”
“I didn't give him back. I just pushed in the right direction, I guess.”
“Well... Thank you.”
She smiled and nodded.
They fell in an almost comfortable silence. Ilya felt a cold shiver run through him. Not cold. Fear and relief at being found out running through him. He looked at the time on the screen in front of him... More than five hours until LA. The little plane was moving along, unaware of the change within. He wondered if five hours would be enough time for Rose Landry to drag everything out through his mouth. If Shane was right about her powers, Rose would know every last secret Ilya kept by the time the plane landed at LAX. He wondered if he would let her dig them out.
Shane trusted her and she had kept his secret. Even now, on the plane. Even when she had realized Ilya was the man Shane had told her about.
“When did you know?”
“About what?”
“Me.”
“Oh! Hm... Shane told me about this man he liked... that he had run away from. And who came to the hospital... You were supposed to meet before the accident, too. But then, he told me about you, about Lily I guess. In, like, vague details, that summer. The summer you went to his cottage?”
Ilya nodded, and then shook his head.
“Is not what I asked. Now, when did you know?”
“Now?”
“Yes. I can't... If I do something too obvious, I need to stop. Nobody can know.”
“Oh, Ilya. No... I... You... hm... You called him boring and I know, from Shane, that that's foreplay or something. And also, you were very mad at me for no reason whatsoever. It was suspicious.”
“No reason, ah?”
“You've said it before. It's not my fault!”
“Hm. No.”
“Did you like the suit?”
Ilya frowned at her.
“Suit? What suit?”
“Oh...” She pouted. “You didn't see the suit?”
“What are you talking about?”
“In Tampa! You got back together, right? After me. Shane tried at least, like, five different outfits before landing on the suit.”
“Rose Landry... I don't know what suit-”
“An off-white one. And a blue t-shirt underneath it, maybe. I might still have the picture he sent his stylist on my phone.”
Ilya pressed his lips together. He knew what suit. Ilya had waited for Shane in the Tampa Bay hotel bar. He had been waiting for her, too, dreading seeing them happy together. But Shane had entered the bar alone, looking so fucking good and confident. An off-white linen suit, a dark blue t-shirt that had curved around Shane's chest. Need and lust on Shane's lips. His hair had changed too.
But the memory wasn't as mind-blowing as the words she had used.
“You have photo?”
“Yeah! Photos. He sends them sometimes to ask for fashion advice. Especially now that he doesn't have a stylist anymore.”
“And you keep them?”
“Yes! I mean, I don't download them... They're just there, in the texts.”
Ilya blinked and looked at the ceiling of the cabin, frowning. His jealousy of Rose fucking Landry was reaching new heights. At least 35,000 feet high. She had pictures of Shane on her phone. Probably sexy pictures, seeing as Shane couldn't breathe and not be sexy at the same time. She had pictures of Shane on her phone and had the luxury of just letting them be there, in her texts. Ilya had six. In a password-protected folder. Six fucking photos. The same ones, really. All too similar, and yet different, separated by a micro second. He had taken them at the 2014 MLH awards, doing a boring skit they had been asked to do as presenters. Shane had been mad at him. Their smiles were wrong, forced. But Ilya had kept them. Proof of existence. Proof. Six boring pictures. She had more.
“Are you okay?”
Ilya nodded.
“Do you want to see them?”
He looked at her and nodded again, almost eagerly. She smiled and took her phone out of her bag. She unlocked it and found her text conversation with Shane. Ilya saw the last text “Have a great flight, Rose! See you soon.” Shane must have known they'd be on the same flight. He should have told Ilya. It almost felt like an ambush. Rose was scrolling through texts and gifs and found a picture.
“Ah. No, it's just his disgusting smoothie... That I've just realized... you made, right?”
Ilya glanced up at her face. She was looking at him with the stupid quirky smile plastered on her face. He hummed a 'yes' and turned his attention back to the phone in her hands. Blurred words scrolling past and another photo. Shane's face. Ilya felt the warmth grow deep in his belly. He had a bruise on his face. Fucking Dallas Kent. Ilya had responded in kind the next time he had faced him.
A new photo. A photo of Shane standing in his bedroom, wearing the clothes he had worn for a disastrous dinner with Hayden Pike and his wife. Clothes Ilya had removed and folded methodically afterwards.
Rose scrolled back up and missed a few pictures. He thought he had recognized the view of the lake from the cottage. He had taken that photo. Ilya wanted to take her phone and look and read everything. Another picture. Shane was wearing a dark suit and a thin tie. Last year's MLH awards.
“I told him to change the tie.”
“Hm... I tied this tie around his wrists.”
She chuckled.
“Great! At least, it was useful in some way.”
“Hm... More.”
“Yep!”
Another picture, another one... Another one... A short fucking video of Shane smiling in his mirror to show off his long hair. Ilya had received that one, too, but had had to delete it. Another picture of Shane standing in his bedroom, showing off an outfit. Probably for a post game interview, or something. One from the set of his latest ad campaign that Ilya had to look up online.
Another one. Shane wearing his light blue shirt and dark shorts. Ilya huffed a breath through his nose. He bit his lip discreetly. The texts above the picture said :
Rose : Change the pants, Shane.
Shane : He won't care!
Rose : He will, if they are too long. Change the pants. Shorter! SHORTER
And underneath, Shane's 'Better?'
So much better, Lyubimyy. He knew the shorts had been better than anything else. Not that Rose had given him the time to look at the other preceding picture for comparison. He looked up at her and caught her eyes. He whispered.
“Thank you.”
“What for?”
“This. The pictures.”
And the shorts.
“I didn't realize... You don't have any pictures, do you?”
Ilya shook his head.
“I have more. I'll keep them for you. Get you one of those digital frames.”
Ilya chuckled and nodded. He looked at her phone, again.
She scrolled up to the picture of an outfit he had never seen. The accompanying text said :
Shane : I think it's hot enough. Elegant, right? He'll like it. I hope.
It showed Shane wearing black pants and a white shirt. His hair wasn't even done. It fell on his forehead like it usually did, in the morning or after sex. The shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his chest was visible. It had never been that visible, ever. Shane usually kept his shirt buttoned to the collar or one or two buttons down. This was four buttons. Holy shit... He took Rose's phone in his hands. He couldn't stop himself. Shane was HOT. So fucking hot. Who the fuck was 'he'? Who had seen this?
“Can I have my phone back, please?”
“Hm...”
He gave the phone back, apologizing silently, his eyes barely leaving the screen.
“And then, he went and got knocked down on the ice, of course.”
Ilya looked at her, frowning.
“... It was for me?”
“What?”
“The clothes...”
“Well, yeah... I mean... He hasn't mentioned anyone else.”
Ilya pinched his lips together and nodded.
“I would like that picture, please.”
Rose chuckled and nodded. She scrolled to more pictures. The white suit and the shirt Shane had worn by the swimming pool. Even the one he had worn in his hotel room in Tampa Bay when he had come out.
She kept scrolling and the last photo Ilya saw before Rose turned her screen off was bathed in pink and blue light. Taken in a club. She was kissing Shane's cheek and he was smiling. Wrong. Forced. She looked at him apologetic, but he shook his head. She smiled.
“Any preference for the digital frame?”
“All of the pictures on it. Especially the shirt one.” He moved his hand up and down, along his sternum and nodded. “Very nice.”
“Yeah. But you must have... I mean, that night must have been awful.”
“Hm... Did you get news from him, then? No... Don’t. Don't answer the question.”
“I didn't, Ilya. He texted in the afternoon, said his boyfriend came to see him in the hospital.”
“He said 'boyfriend'?
“I think so. Wait.”
She opened her phone back to her texts and scrolled.
“Yep!”
She gave him her phone and Ilya opened his mouth as he read, his eyes prickling dangerously. He blinked.
Shane : My boyfriend was here. He came to see me. He is so beautiful. I love him. Rose, I love him so much.
“And I didn't even know he had a boyfriend, then.”
“Me neither.”
Ilya was blushing. He could feel it, see it reflected back in Rose's elated face. Ilya looked past her and through the window to the ocean of clouds. Shane had been in love with him, then. He had told someone. He had said it, months before the cottage. Ilya had, too. He had hidden his love behind Russian words, but he had told Shane. Months later he had repeated the same words in Shane's bed. Openly. Unashamedly.
He felt the tear leave his eye, but didn't have the wherewithal to stop it. He blinked again and looked at Rose. He sniffed and nodded... She smiled.
“Oh my god... You love him so much. It's all on your face!”
“Shut up.”
“I don't think you can keep that hidden, Ilya. You love him so much, people will see.”
“Not everyone is a witch like you.”
“A witch?”
“Da... You have weird powers. You make straight men admit they are gay when they don't want to be.”
“And Russian men admit to...?”
“Nothing. I won't admit to anything.”
She chuckled and laid her hand on his forearm.
“I'm glad he has you. And that you have him.”
Ilya nodded and looked ahead. He took his phone in his hand and played with it, turning it over and back. He wanted to talk to Shane now. He always wanted to talk to Shane, really. Shane had a day off today and had promised to actually rest. But Ilya knew that he was probably in his gym, working out, like their work out last night and this morning had not been sufficient. Ilya chose to ignore all of it and focused on remembering Shane's smile when he had woken up in his arms, head on Ilya's shoulder. Ilya had looked for something better, in America's national parks, in Russia's or Canada's winter landscapes, but had not found a more beautiful sight. He could still look for it, maybe in the clouds outside, but he knew he wouldn't find anything. Shane Hollander sleeping was a sight to behold. His unguarded smile in the morning was a wonder. He sighed.
He unlocked his phone and opened Instagram, finding Shane's messages in seconds. The last one had been a video in Russian about the unlikely friendship between an elephant and a dog. Shane was rarely logged in, but would send Ilya random videos when he was. Shane had written 'Us' after the video and Ilya had wondered who he was supposed to be... The elephant or the dog. He had picked the dog.
He felt Rose's eyes on his phone again.
“You are not aware of principle of privacy?”
She chuckled.
“No. It is obvious,” Ilya continued. “You paraded Shane Hollander like a horse at the Olympics. Shane Hollander in the restaurant, in the street... Everywhere, Rose Landry.”
“And you watched it all.”
“You were trying to hurt me.”
“I didn't know you! And he is an adult.”
Which could only mean that Shane had wanted to hurt Ilya. But Ilya knew, because Shane had told him, that he had only tried to be normal. Have a girlfriend, go out with her, kiss her. All the normal stuff. Unsuccessful, of course. Misguided too, but courageous.
She nodded towards Ilya's phone.
“We should send him a selfie. Freak him out a bit.”
“When he freaks out, he leaves me for you, Hollywood. I don't think is a good idea.”
“Oh, that's not gonna happen again. Camera. Let's take that picture. You can look sad on it or something. Can you even act?”
“Can you?”
She laughed and took Ilya's phone, holding it in front of them, the camera app open, and Ilya looked into it. She had a quirky smile on her face and he was scowling. She hit his shoulder again.
“Smile! It's for Jane!”
And so he did. Of course he did. He pictured Shane smiling against his shoulder and smiled back.
“Perfect! Send it to him.”
“He won't see it until we land.”
“You can use the wifi and send it on Insta. Do you want me to-”
“Ah no, Witch. You will write something bad and he will freak out.”
Ilya looked at the picture and went back to his Instagram messages and wrote.
//Guess who I am sitting next to?//
Ilya assumed (wrongly) that Shane wouldn't see that question for a few hours at the very least, but a few minutes after, when Instagram informed him that ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer was typing, three little bubbles dancing at the bottom of the page, he smiled.
//How would I know?//
//Are you doing ok?//
//No, you know, Hollander. Smells like flowers and bubble gum//
ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer is typing... And then not... Bubbles popping up and disappearing... ShaneHollanderHockeyPlayer is typ-
//She is next to you?? Are you alright?//
Ilya smiled. Shane knew the feeling Ilya was pretending not to have towards Rose Landry was in fact deeply rooted in his heart. Jealousy. He had not mentioned her presence in Montreal and in his flat. He had not divulged that she had brought the pink cake into his apartment and into his fridge. And he was now making sure that Ilya was not spiraling next to his ex-girlfriend. Ilya touched the gallery icon to retrieve the photograph and sent it.
//I asked if Hollander was good in bed and she told me everything about the disasters.//
//No, she didn't.//
/Ilya...//
//Then, she said that you screamed my name. Very embarrassing for you.//
//I didn't.//
//I think I moaned it, once...//
Ilya chuckled and angled his phone so she wouldn't be able to see it. Rose smiled at him.
//Ilya. You can tell her. She won't tell anyone. You can trust her.//
//I didn't have to. She looked in my eyes, and maybe she saw you in them.//
//She knows?//
//Da.//
//Fuck... Wow... Ok. Are you okay?//
//Yes, Hollander. I am not scared of the Hollywood witch.//
//Don't call her that.//
//You were right. She has magical powers!//
//I've never said that. You said that.//
“Is he freaking out?”
Ilya shrugged and shook his head.
“Not enough, I don't think. Maybe we should kiss and send that to him. He might agree to threesome.”
“No, thank you. You're both very handsome, but I would be left out in seconds.”
“Yes. Probably.”
She laughed again.
“What is he saying?”
“That I shouldn't trust the witch.”
“Oh? So the exact opposite, I'm guessing?”
“Da. I think he is probably having a little dance now.”
“He doesn't really dance, though.”
Ilya faced her and smiled.
“Not with you, maybe.”
“You saw us dance, Ilya.”
“Ah... You call that dancing? Was very sad.”
She smiled and picked up her phone, unlocking it.
“What are you doing?”
“I'm insta messaging my best friend.” She began typing. “He... is... an... asshole. But also... very... cute. He... cried.”
“Ah. I did not! And I am not!”
A ping from the phone in his hand.
//Why did you cry? Are you ok??//
“Now, you're making him worry. Stop it. Stop talking to him.”
//Lyubimyy, I am okay. I cried ONE tear because she made me love you even more. Yes, it is still possible, Hollander. I don't know how. I thought she was boring like you... But she is very annoying like me. I think you have a type.//
//I will call you tonight, Shane Hollander. Take a nap now. I said 'actual rest', please. Not hurting your beautiful eyes on stupid Instagram.//
//I love you, Ilya.//
//Ya tebya lyublyu.//
Ilya looked at his phone as the bubbles danced again, before being replaced by a red heart. He smiled to himself and turned to Rose.
“You are very annoying, Rose Landry. Now, he won't rest. You have to tell me if he sends a message to you. He is not allowed.”
“Are you his mother?”
“No. Her name is Yuna... You haven't met her, I think.”
“No, I get it, Ilya. You won.”
“Yes.”
“He is all yours.”
“I know. But thank you for accepting defeat, yes?”
Rose shook her head and smiled.
“Do you mind if I sleep?”
“I thought you had many questions?”
“Sure, but we have...” She tapped the screen of her phone and checked the time. “Ah... so much time for that later. You can wake me up if we lose a reactor or something.”
“Hm.”
Ilya checked the time on the screen in front of him and sighed. Definitely less than five hours, more than four. At least plane and time were moving together, although it didn't feel like it.
“Can I send you something before I pass out?”
“Da.”
Her phone in her hands, she scrolled through her pictures. She was frowning, but then her crooked smile brightened her face.
“You might have to delete it... Definitely. But at least, for today, you can keep it.”
“He sent dick pic to you?”
“No! He was cute. I had to... I took a picture when he was-... Ah here it is. Instagram?”
Ilya shrugged and waited. She sent a gif, Forrest Gump waving, to his direct messages and he accepted the conversation. What followed was a picture of Shane sleeping. He looked at her and back at the picture. He opened his mouth and zoomed in on Shane's cheekbones, almost halfway hidden in the pillow. His pillow in Montreal.
“You kept this, too?”
“I forgot about it, I guess. Just remembered.”
Ilya inhaled. She had the audacity of forgetting pictures hidden on her phone, while Ilya would still have to delete this masterpiece in a few hours. Maybe he could print it out, keep it folded in his bag. Shane was laying down on his stomach, face buried in his white pillow, his hand under it. His bare shoulder was massive in the foreground of the picture. The eyelashes of his visible eye were splayed against his skin. And there... his freckles. His beautiful freckles. The few scattered ones on his shoulder didn't compare to the one on his face, but Ilya loved them all equally.
“You should delete this.”
“I'm safekeeping it, for you.”
“Landry, this is... pornography. Delete it. Sha... He wouldn't approve.”
“Fine, fine.”
And to her credit, she did, even going into her 'deleted folder' to remove it completely.
“Thank you.”
“Yeah. Sorry. Do you want the other one? With the sexy shirt?”
“If you want me to be hard, next to you, yes.”
“Then no! Sleep, too. We'll talk more, later.”
Ilya shook his head, incredulous, and watched her settle against the plane's window. Ilya looked at the screen in front of him. The little plane barely moving. He willed it to make a u-turn over the Great Lakes and back to Montreal, but the little plane was only following the path its real counterpart was telling it to follow. No free will.
Ilya looked at the dark screen of his phone and the picture that hid behind. It felt illegal. They had rules. Rules they had agreed upon a long time ago. Delete anything that might be too revealing. Don't keep selfies, don't keep dick pics, don't keep intimate language. This was nothing of the three, it felt worse. It felt too intimate. He wished he could make it his home screen wallpaper and show it to everyone who would ask. He sighed and glanced at Rose Landry.
He inhaled and nodded, before unlocking his phone. His thumb hovered above the delete button but his eyes couldn't help themselves. They traced along the side of Shane's face, his jaw, his ear. He looked at the freckles, counting them as usual. Almost unconsciously. He had done it so many times before, he knew the way among the stars like it was the back of his hand. Start here, straight ahead to the big one, the big one that looks like a heart, take a right and look around. Then over the ridge of his nose, be aware of the asteroid cloud on the other side and let yourself drift to-
A flight attendant was talking to a passenger a few rows behind him and Ilya remembered where he was. He bit his lip and deleted the picture. I can take another. A better one. Many other ones. One that wasn't gifted by Rose Landry like a “Sorry I fucked the love of your life!' sympathy card. He bumped the back of his head on the headrest behind him and sighed. Ilya closed his eyes, trying to draw the photograph from memory on his eyelids.
Nose, lip... Ear... Freckle.
Two freckles.
Three freckles.
Four freckles.
Five, six...
Seven freckles,
eight...
Nin-...
T-...
And Ilya fell asleep.