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Slide Rule by Anonymous
Fandoms: Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
14 Oct 2026
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Summary
When Shane was outed half-an-hour before the NHL Draft, he thought it would be the worst day of his life. And when he proceeded to slide all the way into the third round, he wasn’t sure how he would survive. Then his new team banished him back to the OHL for two years until he aged out, and Shane burned at the humiliation.
On his good days, though, Shane could admit that it’d made him stronger. He was a better player now, and more comfortable in himself, and more ready to take the NHL by storm. Every time he’d thought that he was finished, he’d been wrong.
So maybe he’d survive playing on the same team as Ilya fucking Rozanov.
~ ~ ~
Shane is outed publicly 30 minutes before the first draft pick is announced. Ilya goes #1 overall to the Boston Bears. Shane is picked #65 overall in the third round… also by the Boston Bears.
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Work Details
Slide Rule by Anonymous
Updated: 2026-10-14
Work ID: 90335621Relationship Tags:
Work Summary:
When Shane was outed half-an-hour before the NHL Draft, he thought it would be the worst day of his life. And when he proceeded to slide all the way into the third round, he wasn’t sure how he would survive. Then his new team banished him back to the OHL for two years until he aged out, and Shane burned at the humiliation.
On his good days, though, Shane could admit that it’d made him stronger. He was a better player now, and more comfortable in himself, and more ready to take the NHL by storm. Every time he’d thought that he was finished, he’d been wrong.
So maybe he’d survive playing on the same team as Ilya fucking Rozanov.
~ ~ ~
Shane is outed publicly 30 minutes before the first draft pick is announced. Ilya goes #1 overall to the Boston Bears. Shane is picked #65 overall in the third round… also by the Boston Bears.
(Approximate) Last Read: 2026/10/15
There was a second person in the room, a young man with a laptop who had introduced himself as Kevin and then said nothing else for the rest of the hour. And there was LeClaire, the head coach, standing against the back wall in a team shirt with his arms folded, not sitting, not participating, just present.
You weren’t supposed to do that on a power play. There was nothing down there. The entire architecture of a man advantage was built on making four men cover five in the space above the dots, and taking the puck behind the net gave the kill a rest and earned you nothing.
Of course Rozanov was watching him. Everyone watched. That was the entire condition of his life now: thirty-eight reporters, a satellite truck, a folder with his surname and a PR strategy. Being tracked was simply what happened to him in a hockey rink. Somebody was always keeping tabs.
Twice it had been a guy Shane had never spoken to before in his life, which was almost restful: no preamble, no story, just a transaction between two people who both understood the terms.
Shane wrote it down in his Notes app, under the hockey stuff, in a way that would have been completely deniable to anyone who found the phone.
He was at his stall with one skate on when he registered that the volume in the room had changed. Krishnan — a twenty-two-year-old forward on a two-way deal who had been extremely normal to Shane for nine days and was fighting for the same roster spot — had said something. Shane had missed the sentence. He got the shape of it from the pause afterward, and from the way two guys laughed and one guy didn't, all three of them carefully not looking in Shane’s direction.
And they were all, always, kind of terrible to him in public afterward. Or at best neutral. The distance was load-bearing. You could not be seen liking Shane Hollander too much if you were also going to find him in the dark.
Shane knew it in the half-second between the release and the net, which was long enough to be certain and much too short to do anything about it. Nine minutes into the home opener, Carmichael chipped the puck off the right wall and sent it to him. Shane took it in stride, cut inside the defenseman’s near shoulder, and shot from a spot where every percentage he had ever been taught said pass.
That was the drill too. You put a hand on a guy’s hip in a corner because your eyes are on the puck and your hand tells you where his weight is, and everyone in the National Hockey League does it four hundred times a season, and Shane had done it himself to a winger in New Jersey on Saturday.