ANGEL CHIRPS

31: [OCT 12, 2016, 6:29 PM]

The hotel room is warm and the colors are welcoming, but it's not enough to turn Angel's anger away from himself.
In his bag, along with his clothes, Angel had brought notebooks and pencils. On the plane earlier, he had stared at a blank page for ages. Tomek had been looking at him and his paper expectantly, but he eventually gave up and went to sleep, leaning on the wall of the plane instead of Angel's shoulder like he would usually do. It ended up frustrating Angel further.
He goes over the printout of the roadtrip schedule again. Victoria, then Calgary. Then back to California to face Oakland. Tomorrow, breakfast at eight, skate at Victoria's practice facility at ten.
Angel sighs and places the paper on the desk. It's early, but Angel already feels exhausted. He's not in the mood for food and had turned down an offer from Tahnay to go out for dinner.
Angel unzips his bag and pulls out the blank notebook along with a pencil. He vaguely remembers one of his childhood counselors to write down what he feels and to visually organize his mind. In theory, it'll help Angel recognize what is wrong and destress him a little. He writes:

Shit. Shit. Victoria, bus leaves early. Tired. Very tired because of last night against Edmonton. Tomek used to play for EDM thats when we met during allstar game. Didn't really get to know him bc too busy with self. I was kind of stuck up but we clicked well during the game. I miss him so much and I do love him but I'm just so afraid that

The tip of the pencil catches on the paper and it rips. Growling, Angel breaks the pencil in two, the wood splintering. He buries his face in his hands. No, that didn't help. It just made him feel worse.
There's a rhythmic knock on his door and Angel appreciates the distraction.
Angel opens the door to a concerned looking Skyler Iwata in sweatpants and a hoodie much too big for her.
"Can we talk?" Skyler asks, soft.
It's strange seeing her like this. She's usually upbeat and bright, but her youth has somehow disappeared. Her hair is tied back into a tangled bun, much like her hair when she spars and trains with Angel.
Angel nods and lets her into the room, though unsure. "What's up?"
"About last night..." Skyler says. She takes a seat on the bed and begins fiddling with her fingers, pulling and popping the joints nervously. "I'm still feeling bad."
Angel nods. He sits next to her, watching as she lets out a groan and flops backward on to the mattress.
"I don't think the new lines are working." Skyler says and she sounds defeated. "I was talking to Brendan on the plane. She was trying to reorganize the O-lines but nothing seemed to click."
Angel nods again. "Yeah, I guess. We lost two of our best centers, of course we can't bounce back that quickly."
A beat of silence.
"Angel?" Skyler says, her voice cautious.
"Yeah?" He twists to look at her, but her eyes are focused on the ceiling, not him.
"What's wrong?"
Angel frowns. "What?"
"I mean, why aren't you talking with Turk?" Skyler asks, point-blank. "Are you two okay?"
"We're fine," Angel says, defensively. It's such a bad lie.
"Look, Angel..." She sits up and pulls her legs to her chest, pushing her face on her knees. Her voice is muffled as she continues. "I can't stand to lose any more of my teammates. You have to make up with him before tomorrow's game, reform our defense."
"I... I can't." Angel says. "I'm sorry."
She shakes her head, laughing. It's almost resentful. "Why the hell are you saying sorry to me?"
Her words burn into his heart and it hurts. He wants to explain that this is the best choice for everyone, that this is really for the team. Tomek's career deserves to go on without scars from Angel's past.
Angel is left alone in his room. That didn't help, either.