Post Olympic

Von Albrecht

Alright alright alright, this is where the story really gets going. (not really, lmao) But hey. It's ye boi.

-rabid

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 The next morning I wake up with a start, suddenly having no idea where I am or why I'm there. I scan the dark room in the early morning light. For a second I think I'm back to fifteen when I slept at my coach's house. The alarm clock reads 5:00. I blink a couple of times. 

Regina.

Might as well get up and try to shower. 

I wander into the bathroom, but I'm not more than three steps inside when I hear a knock on the door. The hairbrush I'm holding clatters to the floor at a cause of my fight or flight instinct, and I yelp when it hits my toe. 

"You alright in there?" I don't recognize the voice, and it doesn't sound like a Canadian accent, or American for that matter. I grab Ireland's stick off the counter and creep toward the door.

"Who is it?" I ask.

"Oh, right, I wasn't at practice yesterday."

"Von Albrecht," I mumble.

"Fenrir Von Albrecht." He says. "But you can call me Fen." I push open the door and,

Oh,

My,

God.

I was never really one to oogle over boys but this boy has my eyes the size of dinner plates. He's got a half smile on, a bit tan, shaggy brown hair and I'm so caught up by it I forget to breathe.

"You good there?" He asks. I clear my throat.

"Yeah, I'm good." I sigh, then stick out my hand. "Nico, I'm your coach." I don't feel very coach-like, he's quite a bit taller than me, and I'm a little delirious. He shakes my hand and I suck in a long breath.

"Alright, so I wandered over because I heard you messing with the shower, and there's something you should know about that before you try it." He looks down at me. This better not be a sexual joke. I'll kill him on the spot. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," I say. Fen nods and steps past me into the dorm.

"So, if yours is anything like mine, it won't turn on right away, in fact, uh." He blinks a couple of times. "Damn, it's still five am?"

"That's what the clock says." I suddenly take a defensive on this guy.

"Wow, I'm off schedule, it's one in the afternoon back home." He smiles and I'm so incredibly happy they force professionals to wear masks now, those are teeth to be protected. I shake my head. No liking him. None. Not allowed. "Alright, so you need to, oh what's the word, splice? No," He takes a second. "Splint, maybe. You need to wedge something in the side of the shower to get the valve to work, or else it's not going to turn on." He leads me into the bathroom and pulls open the shower door, I watch him pull a bobby pin out of his pocket and slip it under one side of the shower handle. "And just take a cold shower." He turns to me. "The hot-cold stuff doesn't work, I've nearly scalped myself a couple of times."

"Thanks." I sigh.

"Did you meet the guys yesterday?" He stops in my door. I give him a once over, light jacket, looks rather expensive, slacks from being in the airport, his hair is loose and his smile is easy. I get a fuckboy vibe off of him.

"Yeah, they're a mess. Nothing I can't fix."

"Ah, well, I mean, dream all you want, kid." Oh, I hate how much he just underestimated me. I push shut the door behind him.

So that's Fenrir Von Albrecht.