Hughes Brothers Imagines

With A Broken Heart

Based in Jack's rookie year

Based off of I Can Do It With A Broken Heart by Taylor Swift (I changed some lyrics to fit in more)

The lights refract *the Devil's colours*

Off *his* silhouette every night

I can show you lies

Jack frustratingly slammed the door as he walked into he and Carla's apartment. Another night, another game, another moment of frustration. He couldn't get the play right. 

Carla ran in and saw her boyfriend sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. She sat next to him and rubbed his back softly. He jumped but leaned into her touch after a moment. In that moment, no words were spoke. Just the two of them together.

'Cause I'm a real tough kid

I can handle my shit

They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it"

And I did

Everyone Jack knew told him how to make it in the league. Fake it. Fake happiness if need be, but never let them see inside. Never let them break down the mental walls inside you. Handle your shit off camera, off the ice. But don't let them see inside.

And that's what he did. For the last three months, he's faked everything. Interviews are all fake words he makes up on the spot when really he wants to tell the press to go shove their cameras up their asses. On the ice, he plays with a smile when the puck hits the net when in reality he wants to stay focused and show the fans that he's worth it. That he can do it. That he deserves it.

Lights, camera, bitch, smile

Even when you want to die

*They* said *they'd* love me all *my career*

But that *career* was too short

"Do they hate me?" Jack asked Carla quietly after a few minutes. She gave him a confused look.

"What?" He looked at her, his eyes pleading for an answer. "I-I don't know, babe. I'd like to think that they do not, though." 

Jack bit his lip and looked away. "When I was drafted, they said they would cheer for me even if my rookie season went to shit." He mumbled. Carla hugged him tight while he closed his eyes tight.

I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday

Every day

I'm so obsessed with *the hockey fans*, but *they* avoid me

Like the plague

Carla sighed before speaking. "This is a rough patch, okay?" She spoke softly, her hand rubbing Jack's arm.

"They hate me, Car. They avoid me on social media whenever I'm mentioned." Jack muttered into her shoulder. "Nico and the guys have told me they don't hate me but what else am I supposed to think?" He sighed. "It's like I'm the plague."

As the crowd was chanting "More!"

I was grinning like I'm winning

I was hitting my marks

'Cause I can do it with a broken heart

"All they want is for me to go out on the ice more and more while my body is breaking down from the ice time." Jack ranted. "I smile like I'm happy, but I'm hitting the end, Carla."

A frown formed on Carla's face as she heard this. "Oh, Jack. Don't say that." Her hand played with his short hair, which he's currently growing out.

"But I'm better." He sighed. "I can play with a broken heart."

You know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart

You know you're good, and I'm good

'Cause I'm miserable!

And nobody even knows!

Try and come for my job

After a bit, Jack sat up and sighed. "They all say they can do my job better than me." He concluded. "But they can't. I'm good. Because I can do this with a broken heart."

***

This was really weird and I don't like how I wrote it but yolo.

WC: 613