Archive of Our Own

Robert and Alicia Zimmermann had always been extremely protective of their only son. They practically interviewed every new friend he made -which didn't happen often- to make sure they were good people. To make sure they wouldn't cause Jack any pain. Alicia sometimes thought Bob went too far. When Jack was inevitably hurt for the first time it would be much harder for him to handle it. She was right.

They kept protecting him anyway, most times coming across new “friends” who were trying to befriend Jack only because of Bob's fame. They prided themselves in scaring them off in the first meeting, making sure they wouldn't use Jack for fame.

Everything was different when Jack and his parents met Kent.

Kent Parson, the blond and short boy, with an innocent expression on his face and a love for hockey to match Jack's. Both Jack and his parents thought Kent would be the one, though in different ways.

Bob and Alicia believed Kent to be the best friend Jack could have, seeing him as a good influence both in hockey and in life. They could see how many things they had in common and how their son was more comfortable around Kent than around anybody else. They started treating Kent as if he were their son, quickly getting to love him as such.

Jack, however, didn't see Kent exactly as a friend. He had, at first, but soon he started developing feelings for him, and Kent reciprocated them. They had a stormy relationship. They always argued when nobody could hear them, throwing insults tough like bullets in between kisses soft like rose petals, and they never apologised enough.

The overwhelming stress of living up to his father's fame, hockey, and Kent, weighed down on Jack’s brain like a ton of bricks. In the end, it got to be too much.

While Bob was in the hospital after his son's overdose, terrified and blaming himself for not realising the seriousness of Jack's anxiety, he ran into Kent.

“I'm so, so sorry,” Kent had croaked, tears gathering in his eyes.

Seeing the confusion on Bob's face, Kent started telling him everything. His and Jack's relationship, how much they fought, the way Kent had treated Jack during so many of their arguments. How he believed he was the cause of Jack's suicide attempt. Jack had been fine before him, after all.

Bob didn't say anything, turning away and leaving Kent standing in the hospital hallway.

He told his wife on a long, tear-filled phone call, both lamenting the way things had turned out. They had nearly lost a son and completely lost his best friend. Ex-boyfriend, apparently.

This is why one would think Bob and Alicia would do more than just turn the page and keep going, they would rip the page straight out of the book and start over, trying to fix everything they'd done wrong.

They didn't.

After a few years they met Jack's new boyfriend Eric, falling in love with him right away, treating him as part of the family with no hesitation. However, they never stopped caring about the boy who had made their son happy for so many years, even if Jack and Kent didn't get along anymore.

Bob would call Kent at least once a month to catch up on Kent's life, trying to show him that he could still trust him, that he wasn't going anywhere. At first Kent was hesitant, still grieving his lost relationship and not understanding why Bob would want to talk to him. After all, he was the cause of Jack's suicide attempt, wasn't he?

Kent stopped questioning Bob's intentions when he got a call right before his first game as an NHL player.

“I know you're worried, son,” Bob had said, “but you've trained all your life for this, you're ready.”

Kent wasn't surprised that Bob knew exactly what he had been worrying about, feeling grateful that somebody understood him so well. Kent took a deep breath, closing his eyes and feeling his nerves melt away like the last bits of snow on a warm spring day.

“Go get them, Kenny,” Bob continued, “I believe in you.”

The Aces won that night, and Kent had never been more proud of himself. Though his happiness grew exponentially when he checked his phone on the way home and found an email from Alicia.

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Congratulations Kenny!!

You were incredible tonight, we had a viewing party at home and everyone is very proud of you! You looked a bit pale, though. Have you been eating enough? Give me a call sometime, I want to catch up with you.

Kisses!

Alicia

Kent went to sleep with a smile on his face that night. Exhausted, but finally happy.

A few months later, Kent was woken up by his phone's loud ringtone. He managed to pry his eyes open and stretch just enough to reach his phone, not awake enough to check his caller ID before answering the call.

“Kent Parson, I thought I had told you to call me!” a familiar voice exclaimed without giving him time to greet her.

“Hi, 'lisha,” he croaked, “yes, you did tell me that.”

Kent rolled over to check his alarm clock while Alicia kept scolding him, groaning when he saw it wasn't even 8am.

“It has been a full month since I sent you that email, and have you called me?”

“No, I haven't,” he sighed, “sorry 'lisha.”

Alicia scoffed, and Kent could almost hear her rolling her eyes at him.

“Of course you haven't. So, Kenny, how are you?” she questioned.

Kent chuckled at her motherly tone, feeling nostalgic about all the times he'd heard her use that same tone before.

“I'm good, I think. You?” he replied, hearing Alicia click her tongue at him.

“Don't tell me that you think you're good, darling, that always means the opposite. Now really, tell me, what's wrong?” her tone had changed to worry, but Kent could still hear the love underneath her words.

Sighing once again and sitting up on his bed, he answered, “I'm a bit of an outcast on my team.”

When Alicia didn't respond, he continued, “It's always been easy for me to get along with people, you know that, but recently I just...” Kent paused, struggling to find the right words, “I can tell they don't really enjoy my company, when the whole team goes out I always stay at home.”

Kent stopped talking when his voice broke in the middle of the sentence, he hadn't realized how badly this had affected him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” came Alicia's voice through the phone, “have you tried talking to them about it? Are they being rude to you?”

“No! No, the guys are great,” he rushed to answer, “but I haven't talked to them about it, it's not like they're trying to leave me out of the team, it's just that they've been friends for years and I'm the only new kid here”

“You know what I want you to do, Kent?” said Alicia with a determined tone, “I want you to stop talking to me and invite someone from your team to dinner.”

“But-”

“Don't argue with me! If your team gets to know you they'll love you, Kenny, so go ahead and call someone.”

Kent was silent for a few seconds, a small smile growing on his face.

“Thank you, Alicia. I will.”

“Goodbye, now, let me know how it goes. Don't forget to call me this time!”

“I won't, I won't,” he chuckled, “goodbye.”

As it turns out, Swoops and Kent have a lot of things in common.

After Kent had seen that Alicia's advice was working and he was feeling more and more like a part of his team every day, he tried his best to keep talking to her and her husband. Emphasis on tried. Despite all his efforts, he could tell that he hadn't emailed her for a month, not even responding to the messages she had sent him. Kent was finding it hard to communicate, feeling exhausted even after small talk in the locker room after practise.

Logically, he knew that he should schedule an appointment with a therapist, he'd been through enough depressive episodes to know when one was upcoming, and difficulty to express his feelings was the most tell-tale sign for him.

Though a therapist appointment meant talking to someone on the phone, and then meeting the therapist and talking to them for an hour, and yeah, he did not have enough energy for that.

He had just settled onto his couch to binge-watch a show when he realised that there was something he could do to avoid calling his therapist. Though he felt more than a bit childish, he grabbed his laptop and started typing.

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: ...help?

Hi Alicia!
I'm sorry if you're busy, but do you still have my old therapist's phone number? If you do, could you call him? I would, but it's a bit hard for me to talk to people at the moment.
Thank you so much, love you!
Kent

He sent the email before thinking twice about it, knowing that if he did, he would never send it.

His own mother's voice echoed inside his head; it's never wrong to ask for help, she said, don't feel ashamed to do it. Even knowing that he had to, he wouldn't be able to talk to his mother. Kent knew that she would become worried, and there wasn't much she could do while living so far away. It was no use worrying her, so he believed asking Alicia for her help had been a better idea.

When, not even an hour later, he received a text from Bob with the scheduled appointment time, he knew he'd done the right thing.

The game had been hard.

Both the Aces and the Penguins had good offense and better defense, so it had been impossible for either team to score for the majority of the game. Players had started to grow frustrated, and with that, they turned to violence. Hard checks were happening left and right, penalties being called every few minutes, only managing to make the game even more frustrating for everyone playing it or watching it.

It was important for the Aces to win if they wanted a chance to win the Stanley Cup for the first time, which meant that the pressure was on, and nobody wanted to be the weakest link. Kent had started the game quite confident that they could win. Yeah, the Penguins were a great team, but the Aces had been practicing more than usual, and the whole team's chemistry on the ice showed immense progress. His confidence had gradually faded as the game progressed and they couldn't throw a single puck past the Penguin's goalie.

Their chemistry apparently was not enough, and the Aces went to the locker rooms having lost 1-0, as the Penguins scored in the last seconds of overtime.

Feet stomped the ground as they walked with their heads down, hands scrubbed at skin as they showered and slammed locker doors, still high off the game's adrenaline but embittered with the results.

Kent was the exception; walking softly, showering quietly and sitting in a corner of the locker room with his knees tucked under his chin. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at the wall a few feet in front of him. He knew that their loss was the whole team's fault, not just his, but he couldn't help thinking about all the things he could have done better, been faster, practiced harder.

His teammates knew how Kent got after tough games, though none of them knew how to help him, so most of them just patted him on the back on their way out the door. Which, honestly, didn't make much of a difference.

Kent was well aware of the fact that if he stayed sitting on the floor for much longer, he'd have a much bigger problem than a sore backside, and it would also be substantially harder to recover from.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he had taken his phone out of his bag and was dialing a telephone number he had memorized many years prior, when he had first realized his need for a parental figure in his life.

“Hard game, eh?” Bob's voice reached his ears, already slightly calming him down.

“Were you watching?” Kent asked, hating how small his voice sounded. He didn't like being weak.

Bob spoke again before his self-deprecating thoughts could make their way up to the surface of his mind again.

“Of course I was watching, you know Alicia and I would never miss a game.”

Kent smiled at that, his mother was normally too busy with her job (which she refused to quit despite Kent's insistence that he could give her all the money she needed), so she seldom was able to watch his games. It was reassuring to know that he had someone who would watch them, someone who could give him feedback and advice.

“Son, why did you call?” Bob's question snapped Kent back to reality, and to the self-doubt that had been clouding his mind since the game.

“I feel like it's my fault,” he finally blurted out.

“...You feel like what is your fault?” Bob questioned, confused.

“Everything!” Kent practically screamed, “I could have trained so much harder during the team's practices, I could have practiced when I went on holiday, I could have worked harder today, and we probably would have won! Now the team doesn't have a chance to win the Stanley Cup, and it's all my fault!” by that point Kent was panting and gesticulating wildly with the hand that wasn't holding the phone, glaring at the wall as if it was his own face.

He then deflated, and continued talking with a voice so quiet, Bob had to strain his ears to hear.

“Why do I always ruin things for other people, Bob?”

Bob could nearly hear his heart breaking at those words. He put on a determined face and let that determination coat his words as he spoke.

“Kent, it is not your fault that the Aces didn't win, you hear me? You are an amazing player and you don't need to practice during your holidays, that's ridiculous!”

Kent chuckled at that, though he still wasn't convinced, and he knew that Bob could tell.

“Never think that you're not enough, son. You're incredible, you're part of an NHL team and you deserve it, okay?”

Kent didn't answer for a few seconds, repeating Bob's words inside his head. You're incredible, you deserve it. You're incredible, you deserve it.

“Okay,” he let out.

“Now I want you to go home and rest, alright? You must be sore from the game,” Bob advised, his tone noticeably lighter than before.

“I will, Bob. Thank you,” Kent's voice had gone back to normal, no self-doubt seeping through his sentence.

“Any time, kiddo. Any time.”

Kent hung up before smoothing a hand down his face and getting up from the floor. He wouldn't let his insecurities completely destroy him, this time. He was stronger than that.

This situation was not Kent's fault.

He had been careful, it was not his fault.

Those sentences were the only things running through his mind as he battled a swarm of people with cameras asking for pictures, asking personal questions, asking “is that man your boyfriend?”.

As soon as he made it to his car, he started it and left the place, before any journalists decided to step in front of his car and risk getting run over just to be the first to get an interview. If you could even call it that.

Kent had left his home that morning as usual, with a snapback and sunglasses to semi-hide himself from the public. That way, he was certain that only really dedicated fans would recognise him, and he usually didn't mind chatting for a few seconds with someone who knew a lot about hockey and his team.

That time it had been different, though

The boy who had approached him was slightly crossing the line between dedicated fan and stalker, though Kent hadn't realised that until the brunette had snatched the snapback from his head and forcefully kissed him in front of a few journalists who frequently met up at that café.

Kent didn't know if he should feel violated for being kissed without his permission (and without a warning) or terrified of all the news stories he could see coming, about 'the first gay NHL star!'.

He could tell that he had started to panic as he drove home because of how hard he was breathing, and he was immensely glad that no journalists had managed to follow him all the way there. He hurriedly made his way up the stairs to his door and fumbled with his keys, hands shaking. When he was finally able to open the door, he dropped his bag and keys on the sofa and went straight to his computer, decided to get rid of this problem before it became viral.

He just needed advice on how to do it.

So, he decided to write Alicia an email, knowing that with all her connections and influence inside the industry as well as her own experience with tabloid drama, she would know what to do.

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: help me again? Urgent!!

Hi Alicia! Sorry to bother you but this is quite important.

I was at a café and a fan decided that he wanted to kiss me in front of reporters, now they all think he's my boyfriend and I came out as gay. How do I stop them from spreading that??

Please answer, thank you so much!

Kenny

He was still heavily breathing, so he decided it would be a good idea to make himself some tea and calm down while he waited for Alicia to answer.

Kent really didn't want the world to know he was gay. He wasn't even gay! However, he knew that the team's owners wouldn't care to understand the difference between bisexuality and homosexuality. If Kent brought them the unwanted kind of attention or they thought he wouldn't be able to play well, they could terminate his contract and his career could be over.

Okay, that wasn't a good train of thought if he wanted to calm down.

He started playing some relaxing playlist from Spotify as he put sugar in his tea, turning to lean against his counter with his eyes closed and sipping from his cup slowly. Yeah, that was better.

He wasn't even halfway done with his tea when his phone dinged to alert him of a new email, his heart rate picking up as he saw Alicia had responded to his message.

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: help me again? Urgent!!

Oh, my Kenny, the things that happen to you sometimes break my heart.

I'm afraid this situation isn't the easiest to get out from, even if you tell the world what happened, reporters are going to ask you if you're gay, and you'll be forced to come out publicly (unless you give some type of “it's none of the media's business who I love” speech, but we both know those never work).

I think it would be ideal for you to talk to your publicist and have a press conference, and I'm sorry to say you'll probably have to come out.

Remember that you have Bob's and my support through everything, and talk to your mother before the conference.

Good luck my darling, love you.

Alicia.

That was the moment when Kent realised just how serious this situation was, and it meant he would be forced out of the closet. Just because a fan had wanted to kiss him.

He slid down the counter until he was sat on the floor, only then did he let all his fury out. His hands trembled and his chest heaved, sobs reverberating like a storm mid-winter. He felt extreme frustration about the whole ordeal because it was something he couldn't control and he couldn't have prevented, and his career could suffer because of it. His mind was filled with disbelief as well, disbelief that somebody would be so selfish and just plain rude to kiss him without his permission. In front of reporters, as well. Kent didn't even remember the guy's name, though he knew that guy might have ruined his career.

Standing up felt as if he had weights tied to his every limb, making his movements sluggish. Though maybe it was the dread he felt, knowing he would have to call his publicist and his mom to let them know what was happening. God, he wasn't even out to his mom.

Kent was aware that he had to be quick or else the news could reach the Aces' team owners before he did, so he braced himself for two of the most uncomfortable phone conversations he'd ever have.

He was shaking like a leaf during the entirety of both calls, terrified that his publicist might hate him or his mother could not support him. His publicist did get slightly mad at Kent, though she knew there was nothing Kent could have done to avoid the situation without being labelled a self-centered brat by those same journalists. Kent's mom was not angry at all. In fact, she wasn't even surprised. Kent could feel how a huge weight had lifted off his shoulders the second he heard his mom's reaction, it being full of love and encouragement.

Kent also remembered how Alicia had said that she and Bob would support him, and he was glad to know he had a group of people -even if it was a small one- to have his back through the dreadful process of coming out in front of millions of people.

His publicist had scheduled an emergency press conference just an hour later, so Kent got changed and spent a good 20 minutes inside his bathroom, trying to disguise the fact that he'd been crying. Once he was satisfied that his bloodshot eyes and blotchy complexion weren't painfully obvious, he took a taxi out to the place where the press conference was being held.

By the time he reached the venue, he couldn't bring himself to be nervous. He was sort of numb, as if he had drained all his emotions in the few hours prior. Kent was determined, he knew what he wanted to say, and he wasn't going to let any questions make him lose his cool. He had this.

The next few minutes seemed to pass by him in a blur as someone put powder foundation on his face (you look like death, Kent, it'll help), and the Aces' staff and the journalists got ready for the conference. Kent sat down on his assigned seat and, once he made sure the cameras were rolling, spoke before anyone could ask him any questions.

“I want to make clear that what happened today was not consensual. I want to highlight that the man who kissed me is not my boyfriend, he is a fanatic who I had never met before, who took advantage of me having my guard down. I don't want any articles calling him my 'secret boyfriend', that is not what he is.”

He took a deep breath before continuing, “Now, any questions?”

The room erupted with questions, so many people like a swarm of bees making so much noise that it overwhelmed Kent for a few seconds. Luckily the team's staff knew how to handle the situation, managing to make them quiet and organized in less than a minute.

The questions ranged from the obvious “Are you gay?” (bisexual, not gay) to the infuriating “How can you play in a team full of men if you're gay?” (that question is ridiculous, and, again, I'm not gay).

He could tell why most celebrities hated reporters so much, they were dense and didn't want to understand what he was trying to tell them. By the time the conference was finished, Kent was emotionally drained. He took another taxi back home and called a takeout place for dinner before checking his phone, he had turned it off before the conference to avoid the swarm of messages and notifications he was sure to get.

His messages showed exactly what he was expecting, all his teammates and friends showing support, some old acquaintances insulting him, and a lot of love from both Alicia and Bob Zimmermann.

FROM: Bob Z
So, so proud of you kid. You did well, remember that we all love you and have your back 24/7.

That text was followed by a string of meaningless emojis, but it somehow made it even better.

FROM: Lisha Z
Crongratulations, my brave boy!! Love you lots.

Alicia's message, though shorter, had the same sentiment as Bob's. With those messages Kent knew that he would be fine; even if he was kicked off his team, even if some previous fans hated him, even if he was still a little screwed up

He would be fine.