𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨 • 𝗔. 𝗕𝗔𝗡𝗞𝗦

𝑇𝑊𝐸𝑁𝑇𝑌 𝑆𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑁

[a l e x i s]

—"Alexis Stansson will move in to take the draw for team U.S.A."

My stare hardens when I meet his eyes. Drawing a thin line down his face moving back up to meet his amber eyes. His expression stills and his actions slowed and his hands stiffen on his hockey stick. And that's when I know it had worked.

The whistle blew right on time as I'm bumped my shoulder against his, effectively pushing him over. I skate through centre swirling past the enforcers passing it down towards Averman who takes it into his hold.

But just as he gets ahold of the puck he's knocked down. "You gotta be kidding me." I sigh softly as I slowly make my way towards the Iceland player. My speed picking up as he skates further down towards the goal. Goldberg prepping in position as he hold out both hands moving side to side as he watches the Icelandic boy move in closer.

Guy moves in, trying to shove the bigger male down. His body forces against the boards as Guy is pulled to the side.

—"back behind the net, Goldberg cuts it off for U.S.A. Here comes Dean Portman. Dribbles it out to left... and he's hit hard it or eh glass by Gunnar Stahl."

Dean groan painfully as he falls to the ice. Clutching his stomach in pain. "Puck is still in U.S.A zone. There's a shot from the blue line. Stick save by Goldberg. Good save."

I sprint beside Luis as we create our diversion. I come up to left as he leads right. Our shoulders nudging the Iceland player who takes it out alone. As he tries to shove Luis off his right shoulder I take the puck out off his cradle. I take it down to their side and blue line shot it from there. The blare settles into my ears as we all cheer in excitement. After multiple hugs and pats on the back from my teammates we return to the beginning position.

Just as we begin Averman gets pushed down to the rink. Sliding down his back tripping, Jesse as he falls, displaying the perfect domino effect. Iceland goes up to the goal, tripping Goldberg off his feet. Circling the goal before shooting it to the net.

—"he scores! Iceland gets a one-to-one tie."

—"hey! Too slow, big boy." Olaf smiles as he passes the goalie with a shit eating grin. Goldberg groans in an annoyed tone— slamming his stick against the post, skating after the blonde. Just to be pulled back by Dwayne and I.

"Take it easy." I repeat as I hold his shoulders back.

"Don't listen to him." Dwayne encouraged. Plastering a scowl across his usual smile. "Besides that guy'll kill you." I snort. Barely keeping my palm on his shoulder anymore.

He nods understandingly. "Well, at least hold me back like I'm gonna kill him."

His feet shaving up the ice as he "tries" to get out of our grips. Both Dwayne and I laugh and his stupidity with, cheeky grin tucked into our dampened lip.

"You're a dumbass Goldberg. You know that?" The goalie just smiles. Swinging a friendly arm over my shoulders, hitting my helmet as we return to the rink.

A smile, when I was younger my mum had always told me that, a smile is the best way you can hide. You can hide your pain. Hide your anger. People believe your happiness, but have troubles believing your sorrows.

"Fake it til you make it." She said.

But the truth is, I'm not even sure I can. Why is it so hard to find happiness but it's so easy to find sadness? I can't even tell you myself, I'm sure no one can. It just manages to slip past my fingers, as it barely skims the palm of my hands, and just as I think that I have it, it crumbles. And yet sadness stick to my skin like duck tape. It can never go away. It only returns to haunt you again.

—"you alright?" Jesse comes up to my side. Nudging me gently. "Just thinking." My lips curling into a subtle smile.

Russ takes centre. I skate up a few feet behind him. "You got this Russ." They'd hour from the sidelines. His face falls into an upturned smile. His smile lacking the vibrancy it usually held, he just nods subtly. They back him up against the boards. His shouts being drained out by the cheers that cascaded over the stadium.

"Get off him! That's enough." My hands go up to their arms, trying multiple failed attempts to bring them off the poor boy. His shouts and his pleads fill my ears, they press their elbows to his neck. Squeezing the air from his lungs as they push him back further.

I felt my heart ache as the refs hold my waist pushing me away from the scene. The I celand player remain in front of him. Their fists meeting with his hip bones, spitting slurs and curses over him. Their bodies vulgar over his beaten figure.

Small tears fall from his waterline, a small whimper leaves his mouth. His body limp as he struggles to return to his feet. "Get off me." My hands go up to their forearms trying to pull them off. I feel the light burns around the thin texture of my skin as I pull myself further out of their palms.

Adam moves in front of me. Placing two hands around my torso. "Get your fucking hands off her." A delicate smile reaches my face as it pulls at my cheeks. I wrap my shoulder under his, propping Russ over me. His legs giving out, his skates shuffle against the ice, trying to protest against my actions. His muffled words refuse my hand as we near towards the sidelines. "The ref should've of bloody called something." My words harsh and bitter on my tongue as it slurs through my teeth.

"Are you okay Russ?" Coach asks hurriedly. Russ swallows thickly before nodding sharply. His kissses his teeth before giving him an reassuring smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine."