Chapter Text
June 2014 - Ilya’s house, Boston
A TV blares in the living room, the voice of an announcer drifting through the house.
“The Montreal Victoire nab 3rd overall draft pick Shayne Rozanova, the prodigy from the East Ottawa Stars. She has recently become one of the fastest-growing stars in junior women's hockey. During her one year in the minors, she was captain and led her team to victory. She also competed at the 2014 Sochi Olympics as a second-line center, helping her team win Olympic gold. Getting drafted at the age of 22, hopefully she can help the Montreal Victoire to victory. They had a hard time last year, not even making it to the playoffs. Let's hope this girl can help them back. With the expansion of the league, it will be even harder to make it in.”
The TV shows Shayne Rozanova walking up to get her jersey, shaking hands with the head coach and team owner.
“She had #24 since the minors, and every time a reporter asks her why, guess how she answers?”
“How?” asks the other announcer.
“She always says, 'I guess you’ll never know,’” he answers. “Ok, moving on back to the draft now, the 4th pick…”
“Roz, Roz, earth to Rozanov, you alive?” calls out Marly.
“Da, yes, am alive. What you want?” Ilya replies.
“We wanted to know what kind of pizza you wanted, you know, cause you’re cap and we can’t let the rooks decide, or they’ll get something like Hawaiian, which is gross!” exclaims Marly.
“I don’t care; get what you want. I trust you, as long as it’s not that healthy monstrosity that you got during that diet,” Ilya says.
“Hey, not my fault. Dani was on a diet, "Marly protests. “By the way, what were you watching? Is that the women's draft?”
“Yes, it is the women’s draft. No, I was not watching,” as Ilya walks to the kitchen with Marly to order the food.
“You sure? You were staring pretty hard.” Marly comments as he stands up to grab the takeout menus from the drawer.
“Yes,” deadpans Ilya, completely straight-faced.
“Ok, sure, Rozy, we all believe that,” retorts Marly sarcastically.
“You watch the women’s league, Rozy? They fucking suck,” shouts one of the rookies in the distance.
“Yeah, we didn't know you watched the ladies, Roz!” yells St-Simon from the couch. Ilya grimaces because sometimes his team are sexist bitches.
“Hey, I only watch them when you guys fucking suck. I need inspiration sometimes from people who win,” Ilya chirps back.
“Fuck you, Rozy. " Marly exclaims.
November 2014 - Bell Arena post-game
“News report moves to the sports segment of today, where the Montreal Victoire have been on a hot streak in the pre-season,” says Jessie on CBC.
“Rookie Shayne Rozanova might have something to do with their streak at the moment,” Veronica responds. “She’s been on fire recently with her first hat trick of the preseason in the league last night!”
“At least one team in Montreal has been doing well, right, Veronica?” Jessie retorts. “The Montreal Voyagers are at the bottom of their division, now under the captaincy of Hayden Pike since the abrupt announcement of Shane Hollander's retirement from hockey after the 2011-2012 season ”
“Yes, I know. Since his sudden disappearance, it’s like he fell off the face of the Earth. Hopefully they’ll make it back to the top this New Year.” Veronica remarks. “So now onto the daily story…”
June 2011- Vegas, MHL award show
Ilya watches the Vegas skyline, the bright lights, the noise, distracting himself from the constant phone calls from his father and brother. He knows why they're calling; his father only calls if he has lost or messed up, just to berate him. Alexie only ever asks for money. He misses Svetlana and his mother; they are both so kind, but one is back in Russia, and the other is buried in the farthest part of the cemetery in Moscow, even though he knows that Papa has a nice spot in the center around the family.
Ilya lights a cigarette (that he kept stashed in his pocket) with the lighter from Svetlana. He takes a drag and thinks.
According to his teammates and Hollander, he should stop smoking, but why would he? There’s no point; he needs to go back to Russia in a few days. What else would he be doing there except drinking, drugs and girls? Not like he has any reason to live longer than he needs to.
Ilya’s in his head as he hears the door behind him open and close.
“I don’t think it’s worth jumping over,” says Hollander sarcastically.
“Party all done?” asks Ilya.
“No, I just needed some air,” Hollander replies.
“You are drunk?” Ilya asks.
“I’m not,” Hollander responds. “Hunter was looking for you earlier and made us all do shots.”
“Wow, old man Hunter made you do shots, and you did them without me. I’m so disappointed,” Ilya says sarcastically. “If you already did shots, why are you looking for me?”
“I dunno. Maybe I was bored, maybe I was looking to do something else,” replies Hollander. “But you ghosted me for months, so maybe I should just leave instead.”
Hollander starts to leave, but Ilya grabs his arm and shoves him against the wall, going in to kiss him—
“What the fuck are you doing?” demands Hollander angrily, “We're in tuxedos, in public, and at an award show where anyone on our teams could see us.”
“So you don't want to fuck, or just not here?” Ilya questions.
“Maybe I haven't forgiven you yet,” snaps Hollander.
“Im sorry I ghosted you. I was having a hard time, you know. Family, Russia,” says Ilya.
“I need a better apology,” declared Hollander.
“How about I show you how sorry I am? take you to a room?” asks Ilya. “Romance you?”
“Nah, I'd rather you just fuck me,” says Hollander.
“Ok, then let's go,” exclaimed Ilya.
Ilya grabs Hollander's arm again and starts trying to drag him out of the after-party.
“Where are we going?” Hollander questions.
“To my hotel room, I have no roommate for the night. You probably have 15th-best player, Pike or JJ, whatever his name is,” Ilya says dismissively.
“You mean Hayden and JJ, and Hayden is a great player. What do you have against him?” questions Hollander.
“I have nothing against him; he just sucks,” replies Ilya. “Finally, we escaped.”
Ilya drags Hollander to an elevator and presses a button for the 36th floor. After the doors closed, Ilya pushed Hollander against one of the elevator walls. They’re making out in the elevator until… Ding. Hollander pushes Ilya away so hard that he stumbles and trips on his own feet. Ilya is trying to get his feet back as the door opens to the 24th floor when someone pops their head in, asking,
“Hey, is this elevator going down?”
“Nope, it is going up,” Hollander replies quickly, pressing the close door button.
“Okay, thanks,” the stranger says while getting cut off by the door.
“That was entertaining,” Ilya says while trying not to laugh.
“No. No, it was not,” scolds Hollander. “What if she saw us? What if she—”
Ilya cuts him off by kissing him.
“It will be fine. You’ll be fine, Hollander,” Ilya reassures as they get to the desired floor.
Ilya continues dragging Hollander by the wrist until they get to his room. He unlocks it and pushes Hollander against the door. They continue kissing, and Ilya starts taking his shirt off, continuing to kiss Hollander. When he tries to take off his's shirt, Hollander pushes him away.
“What's wrong, Hollander? You scared?" Ilya jests.
Hollander slides down to the floor, struggling to breathe. He looks like he’s about to pass out.
“What is happening? Are you dying? What should I do?” asks Ilya, panicking as he sits down next to Hollander on the floor.
“Can you try breathing slower?” Asks Ilya, panicking. Hollander shakes his head no.
“Okay, try to breathe with me?” asks Ilya, trying to breathe slower. One, two, three, four, One… two… three…
“Are you feeling better now? You scared me.” Ilya questions.
“I think so; it was just a panic attack. Usually Hayden or Mom would help,” Hollander's voice wavering, still sitting on the floor, breathing.
“I will get water,” Ilya announces, standing up.
Ilya walks to the bathroom, getting a cup of water. As the faucet runs, he thinks about why Hollander had a panic attack. They had sex at the All-Star Game like 2 months ago. Maybe he was still mad? As Ilya walks back to the foyer, he asks Hollander:
“Why did you have what you call.. Uhh, panic attack?” asks Ilya as he hands Hollander the glass of water.
“Thanks,” grabbing the cup
Ilya watches Hollander drink the water. He seems to be calming down. Still sitting on the floor, though. After he finishes the water, he responds:
“I don't know what has been causing them; they’ve been happening more often, and I obviously can't control them. Hayden and my parents have been trying to help but… I don't know.”
“Okay, so you cannot control them. How often do they happen?” asks Ilya, sitting back on the floor beside Hollander.
“Every couple of days, it feels like my head is spinning every day now. Any time I try to change, or when I’m in the locker room. It’s really frustrating. I was trying to figure it out myself, but Hayden and my parents both found out when I was in the middle of one.” Hollander explains.
Ilya looks at Hollander, and he looks exhausted, like he hasn't slept in days. He looks thinner than last time they met, and his suit is too loose.
“Ok, what we're going to do is sleep, cause you look tired, and…” he starts, getting cut off by Hollander.
“‘Kay. I should get going back to my room, then.” He insists, standing up and turning to the door to leave.
“No, no, why are you leaving? You are already here,” says Ilya, stopping Hollander from leaving, pulling him further into the room.
The hotel room Ilya is staying in is big. There's a jacuzzi, a balcony, and a kitchen, but best of all, a giant bed that must be bigger than a king-size. The walls were all a sort of warmish grey with ugly artwork on each. The bedroom had a sliding glass mirror door that opened to the jacuzzi and bathroom. Ilya leads Hollander to the bedroom, sits him down on the bed and turns on a bedside lamp.
Ilya, taking his suit off, “You can sleep here.”
“I can't sleep here; my parents are going to look for me, and I can’t sleep in my suit cause it will wrinkle and—” Hollander panicking.
“Your parents will be fine; you are a grown adult. Just say you are with Pike or the other one. Also, I have clothes you can borrow, if you want,” Ilya counters as he puts on an old-looking pair of shorts. He throws a T-shirt and shorts at Hollander.
Catching the offending clothing “You want me to wear this?” Hollander demands loudly, holding up a Boston T-shirt.
“I have nothing else; we are here for 2 days. I did not bring that many clothes,” claims Ilya, lying down on the bed. “If you really want to leave, I won't stop you.”
“Okay, then I’m gonna go,” but just as he gets up, his phone rings.
Hollader answers, "Hey buddy, what's up?… okay, thanks for the warning, Hayden, but—” Ilya hears the phone cut off.
“Okay, so I guess Jackie surprised Hayden, and now I’m banned from the room,” Hollander tells Ilya as he stands up to go to the bathroom. Ilya thinks doesn’t Pike have enough children already. When he comes back, he’s dressed in the clothes Ilya gave him. Ilya’s staring so hard that there might be holes in his back. He looks so hot in Ilya’s clothing. Hollander climbs into bed on the other side and turns off the lamp.
“Goodnight, Hollander,” Ilya says before drifting off to sleep.
When Ilya wakes up, he looks over to find Hollander gone. Getting up, he looks around the room and finds a note in the bathroom, on top of the clothes he gave Hollander last night (perfectly folded, of course). Ilya opens the note and starts reading.
Thank you for letting me sleep in your room. I folded the clothes you gave me and left them with this note. I headed back to my room this morning. Also, you need to stop smoking; it’s bad for you, and you taste weird. See you next season.
Shane Hollander
P.S. If you ignore me again, there will be consequences
P.P.S I'm going to win the cup next year
Ilya thinks back to the balcony. Maybe he is right; he should stop smoking if not for himself, then for Shane.
“Okay, Shane Hollander, I will see you next season. Let's see who wins.”