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Shane wasn’t always called a prodigy. He hadn’t been one when he had first put a shaky foot on ice and promptly fell on his ass. He was just some clumsy toddler hanging out with his dad, trying to engage in the Canadian tradition of, ‘Hey, everything is frozen, work with it’.
He just got back up. His dad swears that was the moment he knew.
Everyone kept throwing those words around. Generational. Gifted. Unfair advantage. He never liked any of those people. He never cared for the sentiment really.
He can't remember the last time he got invited to a birthday party.
-
He just knew he loved hockey, so of course he is going to spend his time trying to seek out more of it. It’s fun to win. It was always exhilarating to do something no one thought he could do.
Now, he loves being the best and loves being better even more. That's where he's expected to be.
But it doesn’t mean it didn’t take sacrifice.
Nobody saw the hours he spent studying. Nobody knew how vicious he was, how meticulously he had mapped out everything. Nobody knew the way he carved out parts of himself that he deemed weren’t helpful, how he learned to compartmentalise. How he had created a person who had the strength to shoulder the mantle of ‘Canada’s Golden Boy’, of ‘Montreal’s Saviour’, of ‘Shane Hollander’. He made it look effortless. He has always acted like he doesn't really care as much as he so deeply, so obsessively, so viscerally does. He wants to be the best more than anything. Anything outside of what is supposed to be inconsequential.
He loves his mom. He really does. But once he was so good he was an anomaly and when he so clearly wanted more, she doubled down. She wasn’t wrong in her assessment; she wanted him to have a future in the sport he was so obviously in love with. Hockey became a thing they shared. It probably wouldn’t have occurred to Shane to pursue it in the way she did. He just wanted to get to the top of the game. She saw the bigger picture though; Asian-Canadian, polite and introverted, likely to be shoved aside, even more so undermined.
Shane didn’t think about it. He has always wanted his game to speak for itself, and if it couldn’t then maybe he didn’t need to be heard. He’s never given much thought to any other reason people might not want to listen.
When his junior league coach didn’t put him on the first line even though Shane was leaps and bounds above anyone, he didn’t think about it. When people would ask pointed questions about his eloquence, his heritage, he didn’t think about it. When buzz started building about him and only his teammates got interviewed, he didn’t think about it. When after that, his locker room was filled with far more cutting and specific slurs, he didn’t think about it.
Until he did. That was a bad day.
It was a simple question; Japan and Canada were competing in a World Cup for a snowboarding event. 16-year-old prospect, NHL projected first round pick Shane was asked who he would be going for. He did not give a single shit about snowboarding, nor did he know either of the competitors so the question caught him off guard.
“Canada, obviously.”
The corner of the reporter’s mouth quirked wryly before flattening out,
“You don’t feel conflicted at all?”
Shane abruptly understood what the real question was but he answered the question he was asked.
“Uh, no? I was born here and I grew up here. I’m going for Canada.”
As the words left his mouth, he realised he shouldn’t have to justify his nationality.
It stuck with him even as he held himself back from what he wanted to say. He couldn't risk it.
He wanted to punch something.
Instead, he made a promise to himself.
If and when I win, I'll only want it or deserve it because I earned it. No more, no less. It'll be honest and it'll be mine.
-
Eventually, he is Captain of the fucking Montreal Metros, fuck you for asking. Not to mention he has been competing for Canada his entire life, shoring up the hardware. He is most of the reason they’re so good, and yet commentators still get to question if he is 'Canadian enough'.
Shane had always defied expectations, he always tries to exceed them. The thing was the expectations got higher and higher. He met them nonetheless, but in his mind, he wasn’t excelling - he was passable. He did what was he was supposed to do. If he did it better, well then he just raised the bar for the next time.
There was no level of excellence that wouldn’t invite critique. Shane loves hockey, loves being good at it, but the part of him that loved it for himself is overridden by the people who want him to be good for them.
Chirping is not his strong suit, as Ilya never forgets to remind him, but despite common rhetoric, he can play aggressive. He used to have to. He spent many years as a half-Asian kid who hadn't hit his growth spurt yet still excelling in a violent, prejudicial sport. Safe to say, he can handle himself if need be. But his mom (and life writ large) taught him it was better to be unshakeable. That it was far less effort to play clean and let people lose their minds trying to goad him into losing himself when he knew he wouldn't. So now, the mean streak in Shane is tied with this psychotic zen state he can either ascend or descend to. And he somehow made his brand. Only Ilya knows better.
His parents think that now he’s above it all. No. Shane has been in the trenches with everyone else, he just channels it differently. He’s precise, he’s careful, and above all he’s controlled. He’s technically perfect even while he's been feeling completely unhinged. That’s what people expect from him. He has to fit this hockey robot mould because otherwise he is not the anticipated caricature that everyone and their mother has questions for and even worse would expect him to politely and rationally answer. Shane has always hated the questions but especially now that a good portion of the answers can be blamed on a stupidly entrancing Russian fuckboy who has somehow seized the means of production on his hockey, his libido, and worst of all, his heart, and hasn’t let up since they shook hands (twice) outside that rink in Saskatchewan.
His mom would say he wouldn’t lie like that, but Shane has been a liar for a long time. He’s not sure he remembers how to be honest, except by accident. The only person who knows anything other than this tightly controlled iteration of Shane, the only person who he can’t help but be himself with, is Ilya. And Shane can’t possibly tell Ilya how much that vulnerability costs him. If Ilya knew how much Shane is willing to put on the line for whatever scraps he can get of him, he would probably run. But even though Shane has tried, he can’t help doing it anyway, he just hopes Ilya isn’t watching close enough or doesn’t care enough to call him out.
He does what he does best and goes full tunnel-vision. He knows he’s not charismatic, he knows he’s not the kind of person normal people want to be around, but he does know hockey. He gives his all, outworks everyone, leads with dedication in lieu of camaraderie, is boring and analytical, but he’s not selfish and he always pulls everyone up with him. He doesn’t think he can be loveable, but he is damn sure he can be consistent. And he knows he can win.
But after, he thinks about the fact that Ilya loves competition. Shane is good at competing. He can be that for him. He has always met expectations. The only expectation Ilya has ever had was that Ilya expected it to stay casual. Shane has well and truly missed that mark.
-
He’s standing in the locker room, champagne everywhere, his teammates letting loose. They don’t get here without him, he knows that in the back of his mind. But he was always expected to win. The exhilaration wears off pretty quick, and now all he feels is just relief that he didn’t let himself fuck it up, and the desperate need to shower. He cringes as he grabs his phone with liquor soaked fingers but grins when he sees a blue dot next to Lily's name.
FUCK YESSSSSSSS!!!! OH MY FUCKIHG GOD BABY
u are best player i have ever seen don't tell anyone
congratulations <333333
hockey prince
i am so proud of u
я тебя люблю я тебя люблю я тебя люблю
my boyfriend is so hot he has 3 fucking Stanley cups
when shd i kiss the ring? everyones saying u have dynasty
i will find a ring now? or different one 😈
will kiss both
maybe we try for heir tonight
i am luckiest man alive because u somehow chose me
Shane doesn't know what to say. He's sitting in this loud ass bar biding his time to leave, feeling emotionally overwhelmed in the best way. He's so stupidly gone for Ilya, and it's obviously not the vibe Ilya was going for but... luck.
Shane is good at what he does because he tries. He is good at new things because he perfected the old ones. Ilya, who has had to keep so much all bottled up all the time, intrinsically understood how much Shane cares. Ilya can see him right down to the core of who he is, so Shane knows 'luck' as what it is to the both of them. Catch and release, risk and reward. They have sacrificed and nearly lost so much to have this love, to have this security. Ilya isn't lucky, he earned this. He deserves every last bit.
Shane maybe falls a bit more embarrassingly in love.
Down to his bones, he knows Ilya gets it, has been in the same place, has fought for and achieved the same thing. It’s not some higher-power's talent. It’s not the Metros, it’s not the management, it’s not because of what he looks like or who he loves. He is who he is and he is one of the best there ever will be.
Shane famously hates losing. They can call it whatever they want, Shane knows what he gave to get here.
But in the end, he got Ilya. He won.