SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL, J.HUGHES

TWENTY ONE

JACK'S POV

Happy Halloween eh!

Tonight was shaping up to be one for the books, and I couldn't have been more relieved that Luke took the reins on this one. Initially, I thought hosting the party at my place was a solid idea, but as the date got closer, the idea of managing it all? Yikes.

Thankfully, Luke's enthusiasm for Halloween knew no bounds, and he stepped up to the plate, suggesting we rent out a nearby restaurant for the festivities. It was a stroke of genius, really. Not only did it alleviate the stress of hosting at my place, but it also meant no neighbor hassles or post-party clean-up. Total win-win.

As Gab and I put the finishing touches on the decorations, I couldn't help but marvel at how smoothly everything was coming together. Luke had already started blasting cliché Halloween tunes, setting the mood for the night ahead.

Our trio costume idea was a stroke of brilliance, if I do say so myself. Channeling our inner Phineas and Ferb with Gab as Candace was a stroke of genius. Sure, we were missing Perry the Platypus, but Gab's stuffed version would do just fine.

And let's talk about waking up at the crack of dawn, shall we? It should be illegal, especially after that whirlwind away game against the Sabres in Buffalo. We got on the ice at 2 pm yesterday, and by the time we got back home, it felt like we'd been through a marathon. A 24-hour trip filled with sweat and exhaustion was not how I envisioned spending my day, but hey, it's all part of the game.

Despite feeling bone-tired from the early morning start and the late-night return, I rallied for the Halloween party. It's not every day we get to let loose and have some fun, right?

I made sure to extend an invite to Morgan for the party. She's practically become my go-to partner for events around town. The guys on the team have pretty much accepted her as part of the gang, especially after seeing how tight we were last season. And when I say "tight," I mean it in every sense of the word.

We haven't seen each other in two weeks, but we usually send each other snaps and I saw her ig story, she's been really busy with this Burberry things and it's honestly so fine, we have our own private life and it goes like this.

"Hey oh, where's the party at?" Holtz booms as he strides into the room, a pack of beer in his hands.

I grin, setting down the lights and jumping off the chair to greet him. "Hey bud," I say, giving him a solid fist bump.

He and his girlfriend strut their stuff in their classic Star Wars getups, ones we've seen a zillion times, but they still nail it every single time. It's practically a tradition by now.

Once Holtz makes his grand entrance, the rest of the crew piles in one after the other. Nemec, Ethan, Timo, Doogie, Lazar—you name it, they're all here. And get this, we managed to snag a date that works for everyone's families, so we're throwing down on the 30th instead of the 31st. It's a rare sight to have the whole gang here, and it feels like forever since we all kicked it like this.

"So, I convinced Jack to wear the Phineas costume because, let's be real, he's way shorter than me," I overhear Luke telling Bastian and Bratt.

With my beer in hand, I'm trying to tune into Nemec's story, but Luke's voice keeps pulling me in.

I spin around, a tad annoyed by his comment. "Come on, Luke, that's not even true," I shoot back, the frustration evident in my tone.

"I chose to be Phineas on my own, because he's the man," I add, shrugging it off.

Luke rolls his eyes, and Bratt chuckles. "Well, you are shorter than him," he chimes in, stirring the pot.

Sure, I'm not towering over anyone like Luke, but I'm not exactly short either. Just your average guy.