Post Olympic

BONE ZONE 2: TU Munich, Hudson

Okay so I wrote both of these when I was in a nostalgic mood, so enjoy them on this nice fall day, and let's get to it. 

okay also, these didn't happen at the same time.

-rabid

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MUSIC - Superstars -Christian French

 TU Munich.

Unknown teller:

Everyone knows Fenrir.

I mean it.

We've seen his games, we've seen him around campus, we've seen him.

As a sophomore, Von Albrecht got into college early off of smarts, then joined the hockey team off of talent.

Raw. Talent.

This boy is insane in the classroom and on the ice, I know it for a fact. Everyone knows Fen.

Rumor has it, and I don't know him personally, that he's signing with an NHL team soon. That he's going big.

"Good morning, class," My 1 pm lecture is about to begin, and I've had my eyes on the door. Aha. there she is.

My roommate stumbles up the stairs and flops down next to me.

"Have you seen them yet?" She whispers to me the second she sits down.

"Who?"

"The hockey team, they're going mad."

"What?" I open my notebook and pull a pen out of my hair.

"They're in rollerblades and jerseys, rumor has it he signed this morning!"

"Today?" I whip around to look at her and she grins.

"Von Albrecht, you're interrupting the lecture."

"I know," I look down to the front of the hall. He is, in fact, wearing roller blades, but instead of the TUM jersey, he's got on a Wolves jersey. 18.

"Care to explain why?"

"Yeah, the guys and I went down the slides in roller blades, it was a good time,"

"Well, since you're already up here, can you do this equation," Fen rolls backward, staring up at the board. He drops his bag and picks up a pen.

"Yeah, I think so," He shrugs.

"He signed, look, that's his jersey," she elbows me and I elbow back.

"I can read, jeez," I laugh. Fen starts to write down numbers.

"You know what's funny, Mr Hoffmann," he stands back and then erases part of the equation. "You inspired my choice in number, you see, the Wolves program hasn't really retired many numbers, so when I saw that eighteen was open, I picked it on impulse," He wipes off a couple more numbers and rewrites them. "You always say that eighteen is your favorite number because it's the amount of groups on the periodic table, so, I picked it. That seemed like reason enough."

"Are you trying to flatter your way out of this equation?" Mr H asks him. Fen sets down the marker.

"No, not really," I look at his numbers and his arrows, he's right, he just got there in the absolute wrong way.

"Von Albrecht, that's not, wrong, but how did you even?"

"Dunno, kinda did my own thing," He shrugs, and rolls backward away from the board.

"Care to explain it?"

"No, I mean, if I did it wrong, I shouldn't explain it."

"You did it wrong, but you did it in eight less steps than the right way," Mr Hoffmann is staring at the board.