Chapter Text
Nam-gyu has always been angry.
When he was in elementary school, he had a habit of starting fights over what others would deem little things. An insult thrown his way, someone stealing his seat, sometimes even a bad look would set him off. He attended school after school, never staying in one place for a full semester. He was a smart kid mentally, just not emotionally. His mother was an addict who hadn’t wanted kids in the first place, and his father wasn’t in the picture. He never learned to contain his anger at the world because no one was there to teach him. So all he could do was take it out the way his mother took it out on him. At least when he was fighting, he could feel that he had a hand in the outcome.
After being expelled from 5 different schools in 2 years, his mother realized that something had to change. She hated having to move houses and find new dealers every few months. While picking Nam-gyu up from a suspension, she pointed out a flier on the wall that read ‘club hockey-free participation and equipment’. She didn’t understand yet the lasting effect this would have on both of their futures, for better or worse .
It took a little while for Nam-gyu to feel confident on the ice. For a while, he moved like a newborn deer, like it was his first day walking. But after a few months, it was like second nature. Being able to take his anger out without risk of his mothers deranged consequences was incredibly freeing. The first time he skated over to the penalty box, he could feel the large smile plastered across his face, and he knew that this was only the first time of many he would be in this exact position. Despite his constant visits to the penalty box, he was an exceptional player. When he was on the ice, his opponents couldn’t score, plain and simple. He controlled the game. He was stopping passes left and right, not hesitating to make quick decisions, and was able to defend like his life depended on it. And in a way, it did. Hockey was, and still is, his life. And some part of it always will be.
As Nam-gyu grew up, Hockey only became more and more important to him. When he wasn’t playing, he was thinking of ways to become better or training at his local gym. Thoughts of hockey even snuck their way into his dreams. What had started as an escape for his anger had become the source of all his happiness.
When he was in high school, he started getting attention on an international level. Colleges were sending scouts to his games just to watch his performance, and Nam-gyu was both honored and terrified. He had never expected the opportunity to continue playing past the high school level, but he welcomed the option with open arms. He got his first offer early in his Junior year to play in America at a D1 school. When he first read the email, he didn’t believe it was real. After checking the email address, he almost passed out from pure shock. It wasn’t a large school, but it was a start, and that was all that mattered to him.
When an email from Staffield North University, one of the best hockey colleges in the world, appeared in his inbox, he almost threw up. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. A chance to not just escape his mother, but continue something that made him feel like he had a place in the world. He quickly accepted the full-ride scholarship offered to him and started packing his bags. His major didn’t matter to him, only the sport attached to the ‘experience’ that is college. Nothing else was important besides making sure that he left college with an offer from a national league team.
College hockey was much different than anything Nam-gyu had previously experienced. He was forced to wake up at 5:30 am every morning to make it to 6:30 am practices that lasted for 2 hours on the ice and 1 hour in the weight room every morning, unless it was game day. Then, he had classes from 10 am onward that he was required to attend, and, at most, he got about an hour of free time each day. It would be labeled as hell for anyone else, but for him, it was perfect. He didn’t engage in the average college experience that others prided themselves on. He didn’t go to parties, he didn’t hook up with girls, he was all in on hockey, and he didn’t mind in the slightest.
Nam-gyu quickly became the talk of several major sports news publications, often having articles written about his performance, good or bad. Anyone who was anyone in the hockey scene knew his name. There was only one person who rivaled his popularity. A purple-haired center with enough personality to kill, who attended Staffield’s rival school, Solona University. Choi Su-bong, or Thanos. Every time both men played against each other, they would end up with more penalty minutes than minutes on ice. The yelling of Nam-gyu's coach after the game didn’t matter as long as Thanos got what he deserved. That purple-haired brat loved to chirp, and not just normal insults, insults that got under Nam-gyu’s skin to such an extent that sometimes he genuinely saw red. When they weren’t in the penalty box, they were forced to face off against each other on either offense or defense. They were the best of both their teams, which led to them being the ideal matchup.
Present Day:
Nam-gyu was rudely awakened by a loud, annoying buzzing sound coming from the alarm clock in his apartment. He sighed, wiping his eyes with his hand, letting it drag down his face and hit the top of his alarm clock hard. On days like these, all he wanted was to send a message to his coach saying he was sick and stay in bed the rest of the day. But, especially today, that wasn’t possible. Today was their game against Thanos, against Solona– The most important game of the season. Nam-gyu refused to open his eyes, basking in the heat of his bed for a moment more, before rolling to the edge with a groan. He reluctantly opened his eyes and turned his bedside lamp on, looking around the small bedroom. His laundry basket was overflowing with sweatpants, sweatshirts, and black t-shirts, and his dresser had several drawers open from mornings when he was too lazy to close them. The floor of his bedroom had almost all of his equipment scattered across the floor from last night, when he was so exhausted that he didn’t put them back in his bag. His shoulder pads lay next to his practice jerseys and hockey pants near the door to his bathroom.
Nam-gyu ran a hand through his recently washed hair and stood up, starting to make his way to the clump of practice jerseys on his floor. He grabbed one and held it up to his nose, smelling it and immediately throwing it towards his laundry hamper. It smelled like a BLT that had been left in the sun before being abandoned under a couch for half a decade. God, he really had to do laundry. He picked up his other one and decided that it would be good enough for the time being. After grabbing his hockey pants and pads, he exited his bedroom and went towards the front door, where his hockey bag resided. He stuffed all the equipment in and turned back towards his bathroom.
After changing into grey sweatpants, a black shirt, and a black sweatshirt, his stomach started rumbling. He hadn’t remembered the last time he had eaten. He barely had enough money for his apartment, let alone good food. Sometimes, all he could afford was a carton of eggs and some fruit, which in this economy was 40 dollars. He went into his small kitchen, looking at his phone for the time. He was ahead of his normal schedule, but he didn’t mind. The more time he had to warm up and get some practice in before the team arrived at the arena. With that thought, he started quickly making his usual breakfast of somewhat-burnt eggs with some shell and a smoothie with way too much protein powder. He wasn’t the greatest cook, but if anyone asked him, he would say he could make a killer beef wellington. It’s not like they’d find out he was lying anytime soon. And it’s not like anyone was asking him in the first place. He only ever talked on the ice, not in classes, not in the locker room, only during practice or gametime. People either let him down or bored the shit out of him, and he was fine without them.
He quickly ate the eggs off his plate before moving his protein smoothie to a portable container and heading towards the entrance to his apartment. He grabbed his bag and threw it on his shoulder before opening the door to his apartment.
After only a 10-minute walk, he entered the locker room and set his bag down. Only a few people were there getting ready, meaning he’d have the ice almost completely to himself. A few people said some very exhausted good mornings, to which he gave an upward nod in response. Nam-gyu hastily changed into his practice clothes and padding and laced up his skates, finishing off the rest of his protein shake in the process. He stuffed the container into his bag after grabbing his skates and helmet and started walking down to the rink. As much as he hated waking up in the mornings, he loved the feeling of stepping onto the ice.
He skated a lap before sitting down and stretching. When he looked up at the scoreboard that displayed the time of day when it wasn’t a game, it read 6:00. More people should be out on the ice any minute. He skated over to the bench and grabbed a puck, setting it on the ice. He had time for a few shots before the ice got flooded with teammates. He skated with the puck towards the center of the rink, stopping and taking a deep breath in before starting forward. While maintaining control of the puck, he pivoted on his left foot and rotated his body and stick with it, completing a quick and smooth 360 spin. After the successful spin, he pulled the puck back towards his right skate in a sweeping motion, shifting his weight to change the direction he was going. Then, he wound himself up for the shot while approaching the goal line, preparing to take a slapshot before pulling back his stick and quickly crossing the puck to his other side and putting in a beautiful backhand. He let his momentum take him around the net, skating along the back of the goal and stopping in front of it. A light smile overtook his features until he heard clapping coming from somewhere near the team bench. He looked over quickly and saw his head coach watching from the bench. Cohen Mainsey, a retired NHL defenseman who has been presented with a Hart Memorial Trophy, a Calder Trophy, and 2 Norris Trophies.
“Nam-gyu, excellent moves. You’ve been practicing?” He asks, carefully stepping onto the ice. The way Mainsey says his name would have made him laugh a few years ago, but since moving to America, he’s gotten used to the constant mispronunciation of his name. Every time someone says it slightly wrong, he misses his home just a little bit more. Nam-gyu nods to answer his question as his coach walks towards him.
“For your fake shot to backhand, to really sell it, use your body language to your advantage. Drop your shoulder, lean forward, anything that will confuse your defender.” As his coach explained, he visualized the move in his head.
“Thank you, coach.” He nodded, hitting the puck back and forth with his stick.
“Course, kiddo. You ready for tonight?” Nam-gyu was about to respond before a large crowd of overlapping voices stirred his attention. He swung his head towards the locker room, watching as his teammates started ushering onto the ice before looking back at his coach.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Mainsey smiled at his response before turning on his heels towards the bench.
He quickly stopped in his tracks and turned back towards him while the team was about to reach the ice, yelling above the noise, “Make sure the team does stretching together before practice starts. Jordan always forgets, and I’m not telling him again.”
“Yes, sir.”
Practice ended a few minutes early as the coaches didn’t want to tire the team out. They only worked on their breakout plays and getting back into their defense quickly after a turnover. Today was one of the two days this week that they didn’t have weight room, and Nam-gyu was happy that he could go back home and get a little more rest before having to attend classes. Student-athletes were still required to attend classes and get a relatively high GPA to continue playing, and Nam-gyu absolutely despised those rules. He didn’t give a shit about his college classes, but he gave too many shits about hockey, meaning he attended every class without fail unless he was dying of sickness.
When Nam-gyu finally reached home, he threw his hockey bag onto the floor and took his phone out of his pocket. His first class of the day was in 2 hours, meaning he could take an hour nap and watch film of Solona so he had an idea of what their plays were. He walked to his bedroom and collapsed onto his bed. He let out a sigh of relief before grabbing his phone and setting an hour timer, dropping his phone onto his nightstand, and closing his eyes.
Nam-gyu felt an intense wave of relief when he woke up. Most times when he fell asleep, he would have nightmares. Nightmares that caused him to wake up in a pool of sweat and would leave him hyperventilating. It would often take a long time to calm down. Every time he didn’t have to deal with them, he would appreciate his life a little bit more. He turned to his nightstand and grabbed his phone, turning off the alarm. He got out of bed and went into his living room, turning on the small TV he had on the floor. As he clicked through YouTube, looking through highlight reels, he saw a player holding up devil horns surrounded by teammates in celebration. As he looked closer, he could see a few strands of purple hair sticking to his face. He was biting his tongue with his right canines while the sides of his mouth perked up in a smile. The cover of the video was mesmerizing. For how much he hated Thanos, he couldn’t help but admire how good he looked despite being in the midst of a hockey game. It was infuriating. He looked like he was in a Vogue photoshoot, perfectly posed after an hour of hair and makeup. How the fuck does he do this?
Nam-gyu realized that he had been staring at the picture for way too long and clicked on the video. Solona was an extremely good team, but so was Staffield. Tonight was going to be a close game; any small thing could lead to a win or a loss. As he watched the video, more and more Thanos highlights popped up. It felt as though he was the majority of the video, even though Nam-gyu knew that wasn’t true. How was he able to move so gracefully on the ice, making it look as if hockey took no effort? Nam-gyu pushed the stupid questioning aside and continued analysing his play style. He relied on a lot of spins and slow-to-quick movements to throw off his defender, which Nam-gyu knew how to guard, but he still studied every clip to make sure he fully knew who he would be defending. For most players he went against, he would have stopped watching clips by now, but for Thanos, extra care was needed.
After watching the highlight reel for about thirty minutes, he grabbed the remote and turned off the television. He rose from the couch and took his bookbag from the kitchen island before making his way towards the door.
When he got back to his apartment, it was 3 hours until game time. The whole team was expected to be there in an hour, but Nam-gyu wanted to practice his fake shot to backhand body movement a little bit before the game started. Maybe he’d have a chance to use the move during the game, hopefully against Thanos. That arrogant bastard needed to get knocked on his ass.
As Nam-gyu stepped out of the locker room, he could hear the crowds cheering. The rivalry game between Solona and Staffield was the most important game of the season. The stands were always packed, and the tickets sold out nearly as soon as the books opened. Nam-gyu didn’t really care for the crowds. He didn’t hate them, but he didn’t give them the time of day. They could yell all they wanted for his attention, but all he cared about was stopping the puck from making it in his goal. But, even he had to admit, the atmosphere was something else entirely for rivalry games. The crowd’s excitement could be felt from the ice, and that only elevated the teams’ gameplay and need to win. Some people even went as far as to paint themselves teal to show their support. He couldn’t ever imagine himself being that ridiculous.
Quickly after the US national anthem, he stood at his team's blue line, awaiting puck drop. He looked around at the stands for a moment until he felt eyes on him. He looked up towards the center, seeing the other team's first-line center staring at him. Nam-gyu didn’t know what to do, so he stared directly back at the man, challenging him to look away. When Thanos realized, a smile appeared on his lips, and he winked at the man before looking to the ref. Nam-gyu couldn’t help the look of sheer confusion that appeared on his face. ‘He’s only doing it to get into my head,’ He repeated, taking a deep breath as the ref blew his whistle. Game time.
By the time the first intermission rolled around, Nam-gyu had been in the penalty box twice. Both of which were two-minute minors, one for slashing and the other for roughing, each against Thanos. Thanos only had one penalty, and it was for the fight between him and Nam-gyu.
The moment Nam-gyu stepped into the locker room, he knew he was going to get berated by his coaches. He kept his head down and sat at the nearest bench. As he stared at the ground, he saw the shadow of a taller man walk over and stand a few feet from him.
“Nam-gyu, you better explain what the fuck is going on on that ice right now, or you’re getting benched.”
“I’m sorry, Coach. Won’t happen again.” He had to bite his tongue or else he wasn’t going to see the ice for the rest of the game, possibly even longer.
“That’s not what the hell I asked for. Did I ask for an apology?” Coach Mainsey questioned. Nam-gyu could feel his eyes attempting to burn holes in his forehead.
“No, sir.”
“So answer my question. What the fuck has your panties in such a twist that you can’t play right?” Suddenly, seeing the ice didn’t seem nearly as important. He lifted his head, looked directly at his coach, and said
“My panties aren’t in a fucking twist.”
“Oh, is that right?” His coach laughed sarcastically, “Because what it seems like is that you let that Thanos kid in your head before the game even started.”
“Get your head out of your ass and play for your team and not for you. I don’t care if you hate him; act like he doesn’t bother you at all. Draw the penalties from him, not the other way around. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” He bit out, barely stopping himself from making this a full-fledged argument.
Coach Mainsey walked away and towards the whiteboard on the wall, but Nam-gyu didn’t care what he had to say. He couldn’t listen even if he wanted to.
As he started walking out of the locker room, a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Everyone else on his team had already exited the locker room, so it was just him and the head coach. Mainsey spoke quietly but with enough force that it sent a chill down Nam-gyu’s spine.
“You are our best defensive men and the best in the entire league. Act like it.”
Nam-gyu hesitated for a moment before responding. His anger from their earlier interaction took over, “Then start treating me like I am. I know what the hell I’m doing.”
Coach Mainsey’s eyebrows raised in shock. “You want to get benched the rest of the game?” Nam-gyu was in too deep to back down now, and he didn’t want to anyway.
“Only if you want to lose.”
“Don’t give that to me. Never to me.” He paused for a moment, continuing after a few seconds, “Use that anger and hit the shit out of Thanos without drawing 2 penalties in a period. I don’t mind one per period, but two is too much, and we both know that.”
Nam-gyu took a deep breath, calming down enough to know his coach was right. He nodded his head in response and walked out of the locker room.
Nam-gyu had only been in the penalty box one time since the conversation with his coach, and it was now the third period. The score was 1-2, Staffield was down with a minute on the clock. They needed to send it to overtime to win it, and his shift had started 20 seconds ago, meaning he was ready for anything. The other team had just sent a shot over the goal, hitting the glass behind the goal. He went behind the goal and took possession of the puck, looking upwards for an open pass. He passed it up the ice to his left wing, following quickly on his right. The LW passes it forward to the Right wing further up the ice, who is promptly stopped by his defenders. He passes it back to the left wing, pulling it out to give them time to plan. The puck was currently on the right side, so Nam-gyu went to the left so as to not give the puck more defense. Their Left Wing quickly swung the puck around to the player next to him, and Nam-gyu saw his opportunity. His defender had dropped far closer to the net than he should have, as Nam-gyu was still an incredible shooter from the outside. Nam-gyu yelled for the puck, getting it seconds later. As his defender tried to make up for his mistake, Nam-gyu rattled off a slap shot to the high right of the net. He swears he can hear the entire arena hold its breath.
…
When he hears the goal buzzer going off, echoing off the arena walls, he throws both his hands up in the air in celebration. He is soon bombarded by the rest of his team, almost tackling him to the floor. He could hear the crowd cheering loudly in celebration, almost causing him to cover his ears from the noise. The rush of pure dopamine goes entirely to his head. He scored the tying goal, hopefully sending them to overtime; Staffield just had to hold Solona to the 2 goals they already had. Nam-gyu just needed to focus for the 30 seconds left on the clock.
As the energy from his goal died down, the game went back into play. Thanos traded with a second-line center and immediately started skating towards the neutral zone for puck drop. Nam-gyu had never seen Thanos like this; He looked panicked and extremely pissed off, but only for a moment before his expression slipped into his cocky, eccentric self. Nam-gyu didn’t get enough time to process this before the puck was dropped, and Thanos was skating towards him into his offensive zone.
Nam-gyu kept his eyes trained on Thanos as they skated; His team had already fallen back on defense near the net except for the person on puck, so he focused on the player who could do the most damage.
As the puck got closer, Thanos started calling for it, yelling at his teammate. Nam-gyu edged a little bit closer, expecting Thanos to get the puck sooner rather than later. It was passed to Thanos quickly after, and he immediately pulled back a bit, making space between him and Nam-gyu. Nam-gyu pushed a bit forward, far enough to make a recovery if he passed, but close enough to give an adequate amount of pressure.
Thanos paused for a minute, looking at his offense in front of him before a smile overtook his features. He started heading to his right towards the closest wall, and Nam-gyu followed. He had the opportunity to check him and clear the puck if he could manuever this right. As he was about to check Thanos against it, Thanos spun away from him, leaving him to hit the wall. Not hard, but enough to disorient him and leave Thanos without a defender for a few moments; and a few moments was all Thanos needed.
When Nam-gyu turned back, he saw Thanos lining up for a slap shot. He attempted to dive in front of the shot, but he was too late; the puck had already gone past where he could deflect it. He clashed against the ice with a thud, feeling his body scream at him from the contact.
Moments later, he heard the end-of-game buzzer. He was holding his breath, silently praying to whatever gods above that the puck didn’t go in. As he moved to his knees, he looked up and saw Thanos smiling down at him.
“Say bye-bye to the NHL, Pretty boy,” He said in Korean, bringing his hands up to his head and making devil horns with his index fingers. Seconds later, he saw the goal light illuminate, signaling that the puck had in fact gone in.
Nam-gyu felt his face heat up from rage and an unidentifiable feeling. He fucked up. He let Thanos score the game-winner in the biggest game of the season. He might as well say goodbye to the NHL because what team would want someone who can’t handle the pressure when it comes to the big moments? He was about to follow Thanos and make him regret his words when he felt a hand on his shoulder, grounding him from a decision that would have probably led to a suspension for at least a few weeks.
“Leave it. You did what you could.”
“I could have fucking guarded that. I should have-” He hit his helmet with the butt of his stick.
“Nam-gyu-” Jordan grabbed the stick harshly, stopping Nam-gyu as he swung at himself again. “None of us could have guarded that.”
“I should have been able to.” He whispered, his voice barely audible.
“I know.”
Nam-gyu turned his head back to look at Thanos one last time. When he turned, he noticed his eyes already on him, his lips in a smile, but his eyes telling a different story. For a second, Nam-gyu could have sworn he saw a twinge of pity before his victorious expression flickered back. He pitied him. Thanos pitied him. Nam-gyu could feel his skin crawl, goosebumps covering his arms. He didn’t want to be pitied. He shouldn’t need to be. Thanos saw him as less. Less capable, less of a hockey player, less of a person. Pity is just thinly veiled superiority, the truth only visible when someone is willing to pull back the curtain. All people have felt when they look at him has been pity. Pity for the son of an alcoholic drug-addicted mother, pity for the kid failing school, pity, pity, pity. When he was school hopping in his elementary years, the principals looked at him with sadness and what they viewed as understanding. The entire time they were looking at him, Nam-gyu only saw condescension. He was less in their eyes, always had been, always would be. And he just proved them all right. He had his shot, his shot to finally be something, and he lost it.
He
lost
.