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    The first sound Ilya hears is a thin, discordant symphony of beeps and whirs. Something vibrating. 

    The next thing he hears is…wet. A sort of shaking, gargling sound, that feels like the ugliest crying he’s ever heard. And through it, Shane’s voice. 

    “I’m with him now, mom. He’s— he’s not fine. He’s not. I know—”

    Ilya wants to ask who's not fine, but he can’t feel his own body, his mouth, enough to ask.

    “Yeah,” Shane is saying, only slightly calmer. “I know. He wasn’t breathing—"

    Ilya knows there's a link, between the clinical musicality of medical settings, Shane’s audible, awful distress, and his own physical incapacity. It’s just, it’s so tenuous, and the air around him is so thick, so heavy. It would be easy, to sleep, a little. 

    -
    Footage of the last game between Ottawa and Montreal is everywhere; it’s breached containment from the sports world, and now it seems like everyone is baying for Montreal’s blood. Except, Ilya is oblivious. Not exactly blissfully so, but as the fight for accountability within the league rages on without him, Ilya just wants someone, anyone, to tell him what happened.

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    24 Oct 2026

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    Ilya's therapist has been telling him to try and be more open with people, so he's trying that.

    Did you know that people have deep conversations at bars? Hidden under the noise of the crowd, it's easy to feel like you can finally talk about that one thing you couldn't before.

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    20 Oct 2026

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    Ilya used to not miss anything when he returned to Moscow during the off-season. He was standing in a convenience store, some July day in 2015, flipping through the newsstand, when it hit him that he didn’t particularly care about anything going on there. He was counting down the days before he could get on his flight back to Boston, as if there was anything there to greet him on his return. Maybe it wasn’t Boston he was missing. The realization is not welcome.

    “Do you think you will stay in Boston?” Shane asks, stroking Ilya’s upper arm. His touch is soft. Ilya wants it endlessly.

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    20 Oct 2026

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    “Cap needs to get laid more,” Drapeau muttered.

    “Cap needs to get laid, period,” Comeau added.

    “Dude, I bet he’s still a virgin.” Drapeau said with a snort. “You think he’s ever even seen a woman naked?”

    A couple of players standing around them chuckled.

    Shane felt his jaw tighten. He wanted to respond, to tell them off, to stand up for himself, but he couldn’t. Because there was some truth to what they were saying.

    He did need to get laid more.

    ⎯⎯⎯ 

    Or, Shane Hollander hasn’t seen Ilya Rozanov in three months. Which means he hasn’t gotten laid in three months.

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    17 Oct 2026

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    “Why the fuck do you care what happens to Rozanov?”

    Shane doesn’t answer.

    He’s already running for the Raiders’ locker room.

    ⎯⎯⎯

    Or, Ilya has a panic attack in the Raiders' locker room after getting a phone call from his brother telling him about his father’s death.

    Language:
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    17 Oct 2026