Bridge over troubled waters

22| So You

Bailey

Corey has been gone for a few days for a few away games and promo stuff but he's finally back home. I hate to admit how much I missed him, but I felt like a dog without it's owner when he's away. I couldn't wait to just see him again so I could feel whole again.

So once he wakes up from a late flight from Arizona I come over to his place. I bring some breakfast with me as I let myself in and head to the kitchen.

"Foods here" I yell out.

"Just a minute" he yells back.

So I set the food on the table and sip on my orange juice. Finally he comes out from his room and his eyes land right on me. I turn my head to the side trying to read what he was doing.

"Come here" he insists as he grabs my wrist. He pulls me to his room and I follow him in there.

I stop walking when I look at his bed sitting against the far wall. Above his bed was the skyline painting of him and I from the art show and I thought I was going to pass out. I cover my mouth as I look up to it.

"Corey... you didn't" I whisper.

"I had to. As soon as I saw it I knew that I needed to have it. An original from the great Bailey Mitchell's first art collection. I was surprised when they said it was out for auction because out of all of them I figured that was the one you wanted to keep. So I made sure to have the highest bid so it went to someone who could truly appreciate not just how beautiful this is on the eyes but in my heart too" he explains.

I walk over to it and smile when I see it on the wall. I'm so happy it ended up with someone I know will appreciate what I was trying to say. What I thought was a disaster ended up being exactly what I wanted it to be.

"You spent 150 grand on my painting" I ask.

"I would have spent more if I had to. You support me all the time and I want to show you that I support you too. I believe in your paintings and in your pictures, but most importantly in you. I remember you taking art classes and hating them in high school. You could never figure out how to do the grades because you were never meant to be creative in a way people tell you to be. You're beautiful all on your own and now I have a reminder of that. That is if you let me keep it" he says.

I look up at the painting and smile as I see us looking out over the city. "I want you to have it. I want you to be able to look at it and get as much joy from it as I do. It means a lot to me, but it only does because of you. And knowing that it fell in your lap makes me feel at ease" I insist.

"Are you sure? Because I have no problems giving it back. I know it's special to you" he claims.

"It's only special to me because you're special to me. I want you to keep it" I promise.

"Well then thank you. I can't wait to get ready for bed every night and look at it and smile" he insists.

We leave his room to get our grub on. There wasn't much on tap for today. I was taking a little art break and can hopefully pick up photography again. I was here for pictures too and I got a few but I haven't gone on a photo shoot in a while. I was itching to get back into it with my trusty camera and the snow still falling in the city.

With the team getting home so late last night Corey had no hockey obligations. Quite frankly it was too cold outside to willingly go outside so we find something in our places to keep up preoccupied. It doesn't take much for us to make something out of nothing so I'm sure we will entertain ourselves somehow.

"Can you teach me how to draw" he wonders and I smile. He's never taken interest before but maybe like everything else this has changed too.

"Okay. But only if you take me skating" I bargain. I haven't been in years.

"Easy. Deal" he insists.

So I go over to my place and grab some note pads and drawing pencils and lots of erasers. I set up a little shop at his place and attempt to teach him how to draw. I start him off with tracing something simple to get the jist of it. Once he gets the hang of tracing I have him free hand it but while looking at a picture copying it over. Honestly he wasn't too bad, I wasn't laughing at him and trust me if it was bad I would laugh. But he actually has a good steady hand which I'm assuming came with his in natural hockey instincts. He works on drawing a flower and I start to sketch up a painting idea I had. I know I was on break but my brain never really does take a day off. At least this way when I come back I'll have ideas of what to do.

"I so wish I had your talent" Corey claims as he erases something else he didn't like about his drawing.

"Me? You're the hockey player who makes millions doing what he loves" I accuse.

"I know I'm lucky. But your paintings are so... you. When I play it's not just me, I don't win games by myself and I most certainly don't lose by myself either. Everything I do is a reflection of those around me.

But your paintings and your pictures are so you. 100% original Bailey Mitchell content and I wish I had that. I wish I could rely on myself and know that it'd going to be enough" he sighs.

"Corey, you have to know that you're a good player, but you're a kick ass person too. You are strong and smart and passionate. There's not another goalie or player like you" I argue.

"You're just saying that because you have to" he accuses.

"I don't have to tell you shit. I could tell you anything and you would believe me. But I don't tell you just anything, just everything you need to hear. And you need to know that you, Corey, are an incredible person and this team and this city is lucky to have you" I insist.

"I'm lucky to have you" he counters.

"Let's not start this argument that never really has a end. Let's focus on your flower. How is it going" I wonder.

He shows me the paper and I smile. "See! That's really good and you did it all yourself" I insist.

"I did have a pretty great teacher" he smirks.

"I would have to agree" I smile.